and we both know how difficult that can be.’
I wasn’t just explaining this for Sophie’s benefit. I was hoping that she would pass the information on to Sam and that he would realize my friendship with Joe was a result of shared experiences and a similar background, rather than picking a side over an old hurt.
‘Difficult?’ Sophie questioned.
‘Yes,’ I said, my face growing hot, ‘difficult. We haven’t all got a perfect family dynamic like the one you and Hope enjoy. Some of us struggle to work with our nearest and dearest.’
Sophie shook her head and sighed.
‘So, the farm’s in trouble, is it?’
‘Yes,’ I said, hoping I wasn’t speaking out of turn and that if she did tell Sam, then it wouldn’t go any further, ‘it is, and the last thing Joe needs is more local resentment. Not that I really understand why he’s facing any. Things are hard enough for him right now.’
‘I know you probably think we’re all wrong to be looking out for Sam,’ Sophie sighed, ‘but there was more happened the night of that crash than any of us really knows, Tess. There must have been.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, for a start, if it was all so cut and dried then Sam would have been arrested and charged, wouldn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ I agreed, because I couldn’t deny it, ‘I suppose he would . . .’
‘And he’s always been such a cautious and conscientious lad.’
Another customer arrived, cutting our conversation off again, but it didn’t stop me wondering if Sophie was right. Was there more to what happened than either Sam or Joe were prepared to admit? And if that was the case, would it ever be possible for either of them to truly leave the past behind and move on?
*
My head was starting to spin again so I took myself off for a walk along the beach before heading to the cottage. I hadn’t been back all that long, when someone rapped sharply on the door.
‘Sophie,’ I said, surprised to see her. ‘What’s up?’
‘Well,’ she said, stepping inside as I opened the door wider to let her in. ‘I was thinking over our conversation while I was closing up and I wanted to come and apologize.’
‘Apologize,’ I frowned. ‘What for?’
‘For making you feel as though you had to tell me about your friendship with Joe for a start,’ she said, as we sat together on the sofa. ‘It was never my intention to pry, but there’s still so many loose ends to do with the crash that, whenever Joe Upton’s name is even mentioned, it sets us all on edge.’
‘I see.’
‘Sam’s grandmother was his last living relative,’ she went on, ‘and she died, leaving him the pub, just a few weeks after he came out of his coma. Being witness to the way he’s had to cope and the extent of what he’s been through, has perhaps made some of us a little too forthright in his defence.’
‘He’s obviously been through a lot,’ I conceded, ‘but then, so have the Uptons.’
‘That’s true.’
‘Thank goodness Sam has Hope,’ I said, thinking that at least he wasn’t entirely alone in the world.
Sophie’s face lit up.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘they think the world of each other.’
That was more than obvious.
‘They’re very lucky,’ I nodded.
At least their relationship was one thing I had found in Wynmouth that was just as it appeared to be. I let out a long breath, thinking of my first kiss and wondering if I was in for any more memory-altering surprises during my stay.
‘That was a long sigh,’ Sophie commented. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘What makes you think anything’s wrong?’ I shrugged.
‘Let’s call it a mother’s intuition,’ she said, making me tear up a little. ‘Let me make us some tea and then you can tell me.’
She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘But only if you want to,’ she hastily added, making me smile.
*
‘Have you ever,’ I found myself asking, once we were settled with mugs of tea and a packet of Rich Tea biscuits, ‘discovered that something you wholeheartedly believed in, something you had total faith in, was a complete myth?’
‘You mean it was a lie?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I suppose I do, whether that was something that someone had told you, or something you had fooled yourself into believing.’
I was thinking mostly of Mum’s diary, and my parents’ less-than-perfect marriage, but there were also thoughts of my first kiss with Joe and how that hadn’t turned out to be picture-perfect either.
‘Sort of,’ said Sophie, dunking a biscuit.
‘Sort of,’