Beulah seemed vaguely appeased.
‘I know you’re very independent and quite capable of coping on your own, darling. We all say those things, and we all mean them, up to a point. But there are times when it can be’ – she paused, searching for the right word – ‘cathartic to not be quite so independent, to let someone else look after you for a while. She left a dramatic pause. ‘Which is why I’m here.’
She reached for the dripping pistachio ice cream, which Carrie was still holding.
‘You don’t mind if I finish it, do you? It’s one of my favourites and I’ve hardly had a morsel all morning and it was such an early start.’
‘Howdidyou know where we were, Mum?’ Jules asked, brushing ants from her skirt.
‘Pure luck,’ Beulah said, sitting down on the bench next to Carrie and biting into the waffle cone. ‘I was walking through Yarmouth thinking what a beautiful little place it is and then I saw you both. What are the chances of that? I thought. My own beloved daughter in a shop all these miles from home and we just happen to bump into each other.’
‘I would say the chances of that are pretty negligible,’ Jules replied drily.
She used all her remaining energy to glare at Carrie, who shook her head vehemently.
‘Dearie me!’ Beulah chortled. ‘You think that we’re in cahoots, Caroline and I. Nothing could be further from the truth.’
Jules stared up at her mother.
‘The only other explanation is that you’ve been stalking us.’
‘I prefer to call it shadowing,’ Beulah murmured.
‘You’re not a spy, Mum.’
‘If you insist on knowing every last detail, I bumped into that lovely lady who looks after the cottage, Rita. I was standing at the front door trying to get a phone signal to call you when she arrived with some eggs and said that you’d come here. It’s only a few miles down the road so I thought I’d try to surprise you.’
‘You’ve certainly done that,’ Jules muttered.
‘And isn’t it a lovely place?’ Beulah extolled, swivelling her head from left to right. ‘Such fabulous energy.’
Jules rolled her eyes.
‘And talking of energy, that cottage of yours is very special; the way it sits in the landscape with the hills on one side and the fields leading down to the water on the other. It nestles. Do move on to the bench, Julianna. You’re making me anxious sitting there. I mean, it’s obviously very grounding and you must need earth energy, but those ants look as if they might bite. This bench has plenty of room for the three of us.’
Beulah extended a hand and Jules allowed herself to be helped up to perch on the end.
‘I can tell it’s a healing place,’ Beulah continued, ‘although it’s obviously got a way to go so far as you are concerned.’
‘Thanks, Mum! You know just how to make me feel better.’
Beulah reached some sticky fingers up to Jules’s face and stroked her cheek.
‘I must come over and introduce myself to the spirits of Hideaway Cottage.’
‘There aren’t any spirits, Mum.’
Beulah frowned.
‘That’s not what Caroline told me.’
‘I-I just told your mum about the blanket I found in front of the range and the tea caddy under the floorboards with the little lock of hair and the baby’s rattle and…’
Sorry, she mouthed at Jules.
‘Oh, there are definitely spirits,’ Beulah insisted. ‘Welcoming ones. I felt they welcomed me as I stood in the garden. They have welcomed you, Julianna. You just won’t acknowledge it.’
‘Talking of welcomes,’ Carrie said tentatively, ‘do you have somewhere to stay, Beulah? Guy and I have a spare room if you haven’t booked in anywhere.’
