the sole which had begun to ooze blood. She could see the corner of something protruding from her flesh. Reaching out with shaky fingers she grasped it as firmly as she could as it was already wet with her blood and pulled hard. A sharp hiss passed her lips as she turned the object over on her palm.
It looked like part of a seashell. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and as her gaze dropped to the ground beneath the last step, her eyes widened in surprise. Hopping carefully down the last few steps, she kneeled down close to the ground.
In front of her was a neatly arranged circle of pretty seashells, all of them perfectly shaped and intact, with the exception of the one she’d had the misfortune to step on. Tiny little fan shapes and miniature conches, all in delicate shades of pale pink, peach, cream and beige. There was not a hint of dirt or seaweed. It was as if someone had gone to great lengths not only to pick the most pleasing shells but had also taken the trouble to clean them too.
Inside the small circle of shells was a posy of wildflowers. She recognized them, as most of them grew abundantly along her cliff. Long green stems and tiny bud like flowers and bells in white, purple and pink, all hand-picked, were arranged neatly and tied with several long blades of grass. It was sweet, the whole thing was simple and almost childlike, but what a strange thing to do.
Her brow folded into a frown as she tried to figure out who would leave them and why? If it was a welcome to the neighborhood kind of gift, why hadn’t they knocked on the RV and spoken to her in person?
Pulling her phone, which she’d been finally forced to get on account of all the building works about to commence on her property, out of her pocket she snapped a couple of pictures before leaning down and carefully collecting all the shells, so Bailey didn’t cut her paws. It was fortunate she’d missed the whole thing when she’d bounded energetically down the stairs and leapt off the last step.
Lastly, she picked up the small bunch of flowers and headed back up into the RV, almost forgetting her injured foot as she contemplated the strange gift. She placed the flowers in a world’s greatest mom mug she’d found in the cupboard and filled it with water. Leaving the shells on the table beside the mug, she turned and saw the bloodied footprints she’d left along the floor.
Wincing slightly at the mess, after all, as cozy as it was, the RV didn’t technically belong to her, she grabbed a cloth and wrapped it around her foot to stop the bleeding as she cleaned up the mess. Once that was done, she found a small first aid kit under the sink. It didn’t take long to clean and cover the small wound as it wasn’t deep. Slipping her sneakers on, she grabbed her keys and went in search of her dog.
It was easy to find her, she wasn’t too far from the same spot she’d been playing in a few days earlier, only this time she didn’t have a ball, she was just rolling around in the grass, like she would if Ava was rubbing her belly.
‘Bailey?’ Ava called out and watched as she scrambled to her feet, dashing over as she panted happily. ‘Crazy dog,’ she shook her head in amusement as she bent down and rubbed her fur. ‘Wanna go for a ride?’
Bailey’s ears pricked up and she barked loudly.
‘Need some supplies,’ Ava stood and headed toward the truck with Bailey dancing along at her heels. ‘You’re going to have to wear the leash though.’
It was almost comical the way Bailey skidded to a halt and glanced up at Ava reproachfully.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Ava shook her head, ‘it’s only until the locals get used to you. You’re like the size of a small pony.’
Climbing up into the cab of her truck she left the door open and leaned out.
‘You coming or not?’
Not needing to be told twice Bailey leapt up into the truck and settled next to Ava as she slammed the door closed and gunned the engine.
She took a slow leisurely drive down the winding cliff road toward the town, with the windows down as she breathed in the sea air. She parked by the docks and took her time buying supplies. Work