Nell laughed, a low, gravelly sound, its lack of pretension seeming to match her persona. Feminine but without frills, she had an oval face and strong jaw line that were softened by middle age. She’d freed her chestnut-brown hair from the bucket hat, and it sat loosely on her shoulders. Mattie was glad for the sunglasses shielding her eyes so Nell wouldn’t clock her checking her out. When was the last time she’d done that with awoman? Not since before Kenya, so at least fifteen months, if not longer. Clearly, the sea air was already having an effect.
“Now, what can I get you to drink, Mattie? White wine? Lemonade? Iced water?” asked Angie.
Thankfully, the question took Mattie’s focus away from Nell before she was caught outright ogling. “Wine would be lovely, thank you.” She looked at the closest flower bed infused with pink and peach rose blooms. “They’re wonderful. People here clearly take pride in their gardens.”
“We do, although I’m a novice. I can kill a plant simply by looking at it, whereas Nell is a green goddess.” Angie looked rueful. “My skills are more suited to the kitchen.”
“Do you mind if I take a photo to send to my best friend? Shona’s always telling me to ‘take time to smell the roses,’” Mattie said.
“The white ones by the gazebo will make a better picture and they smell delightful,” said Angie.
“Great, thanks.”
Mattie took numerous photos, some with herself in the frame and others without. She chose one with her goofy face to send to Shona alongside#smellingtheroses. Shona would laugh at it, and Mattie liked it because the scarred shell of her right ear was covered by her hair. She’d purposely grown the pixie cut longer on that side since Kenya, but otherwise her appearance was similar to that in the viral footage she was infamous for. For a while, she’d played with the idea of colouring it, going for something radically different from its natural light brown, but she couldn’t face having to sit in a salon for hours on end every few months. Who had the time to sit still for that long?
“Help yourselves to food,” said Angie.
Nell forked some chicken onto her plate. “Some roses don’t smell at all. It’s something to do with being mass-produced for their appearance and longevity means they have the fragrancebred out of them. I read about it in a newspaper a while back.” She frowned at Mattie, as though momentarily distracted. “Or maybe I saw it on TV.”
Oh no. Here it comes.I know you from somewhere. Wait, aren’t you that woman off the TV news?As a broadcast journalist regularly on nationwide TV news bulletins, it came as part of the package. Before Kenya, the event that served as an unwelcome landmark in her career, it hadn’t bothered her so much. Since then, it’d been different, with regular recognition and way too many comments aboutthatstory.
Purposefully, Mattie focused on Angie as she spoke. “The white roses definitely smell and I told Shona so.” She was determined to prove that she’d be able to take time to smell the roses for the whole five days of her break. No schedule, no deadlines, no demands on her, no stress, and definitely no work. “I’m planning on taking lots of photos. I used to come to this area of Devon for family holidays when I was a kid. I absolutely loved it, so I’m indulging in a trip down memory lane. We didn’t have a video camera back then so this is the closest thing to touching the past I can get. Of course, there’s the danger that everything’s changed and my memories will be spoiled.” The thought of that possibility created an ache in her chest.
“This area is like most places. Some changes are for the better, others not,” said Angie. “I’m allowed to say that as someone who’s lived on and around the South Devon coastline their whole life.”
“Please tell me that the steam train is still running! I’ll be heartbroken if it isn’t,” said Mattie.
“Fear not, it is!”
“My brother and I used to watch from the beach and count how many carriages there were.” That memory, bittersweet and tinged with sepia, made her eyes water.
Angie returned her grin with one of her own, equally as wide. “My late dad was a steam railway fanatic. He talked as reverently about cylinders and boiler pressure and coal capacity as I did about Duran Duran.”
“Seeing as you know the area so well, maybe you could help me with my mission?” Was it a mistake to take total strangers into her confidence? Keeping people at arm’s length when it came to her personal life was so much safer. But even if Angie and Nell had recognised her, she sensed they were far less likely to be interested in her “celebrity” status. She could do this.
“Try me,” said Angie.
“To be honest, it’s a needle-in-a-haystack. My family used to stay at a guest house in Paignton.” Mattie pointed vaguely in the direction of the bigger town along the coast. “I’ve got it into my head that I’d like to find it, just for old times’ sake, but my brother Simon and I can’t remember exactly what it was called. It was more than thirty years ago, and our parents passed away a while back so we can’t ask them.” Sea View? Bay View? She’d looked it up but there were a fair few other guest houses with similar names. Besides, there was no way the original proprietors would still be there – they’d be pushing late eighties by now – so any newer owners might well have changed the name.
“Tell us what you can remember. Nell works locally so she might be able to help too, although she’s a relative newbie. She’s only lived here for fourteen years,” Angie said, winking at Nell.
Clearly it was an in-joke. As the two women tossed around ideas, Mattie let her eyes drift over the freckles just below Nell’s collarbone again. Delectable. And her curves? Divine. Nell pinged her gaydar, without a doubt. Not in a blatant way; quite the opposite. But a holiday fling wasn’t remotely on the agenda. Just to be enjoying Nell’s attractive presence was gift enough. Nell’s direct gaze caught hers, eyebrows drawn in confusion.Damn. Had she been that obvious with her perusal? She glanced away, hoping that she looked more nonchalant than she felt.
“A top-up?” Angie asked, bottle of wine in hand.
Mattie smiled as she held out her glass and took another, hopefully more discreet, glance at Nell’s slender legs. Not even a day old, and this trip was already turning out to be unexpectedly pleasant. She could handle a bit of attraction in a beautiful setting without acting on it. Couldn’t she?
Chapter 2
Pull yourself together. Nell repeated the mantra under her breath as she strode into the kitchen and snapped the radio on. Three large glasses of wine – at least one too many – alongside the sun and heat of the day had knocked her out of kilter. Getting ready for work tomorrow should be her priority, instead of floating around the house aimlessly. That meant ironing a shirt and making lunch to take with her. She peered at the contents of her fridge. Smoked salmon left over from yesterday, a chunk of mature cheddar, two rashers of bacon. Toss a salad together with lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber and radish she’d grown in the garden and add the salmon. That’d be enough.
Her mind drifted back to the unexpectedly sociable evening as she sliced the juicy tomatoes. She couldn’t fathom how Angie did her job. Strangers traipsing through her home all the time, no privacy, no proper down time. It’d drive Nell mad, but Angie was a social butterfly, as gregarious and extroverted as Nell was private and introverted. Meeting Angie’s guests was something that happened from time to time, especially during the summer months. Some were interesting, others less so. All were ships passing in the night, and it was an easy way of socialisingoccasionally without venturing away from her comfort zone. Normally, she didn’t give any of them a second thought.
But Mattie was one of the more interesting “ships,” it had to be said. She grinned at the memory of Mattie’s startled look when she’d caught sight of the gaping secateurs. She’d bordered on goggle-eyed Scooby-Doo style. Before joining them for drinks, Mattie had changed into skimpier shorts and a sleeveless top with a lower neckline than the sporty T-shirt she’d been wearing on arrival. They lent a more feminine and softer air to her. There was something familiar about her face. Perhaps they’d crossed paths in a work capacity? No, she’d remember. A stranger, then, one with an easy-going manner, charming and confident. And that voice! Itwasvaguely familiar. Rich, smooth, beguiling.
The knife slipped and Nell swore as the tomato she’d been slicing slithered out of her grasp.Focus. That, or there’d be sliced finger salad for lunch. Staffing levels were already depleted, and she didn’t need to be adding to it. There was so much to do this week. Ideally, she’d delegate the monthly community meeting to George, but he’d been signed off-duty for seven days with concussion thanks to a cricket mishap. He was supposed to hit the ball, not the other way around!
Fingers crossed it’d be quiet but, in the midst of the school summer holidays and at the height of the tourist season, she doubted it. Just the sheer weight of extra people added to her workload and tourists tended to let their guards down, becoming more carefree and careless. That said, the number of visitors was nowhere near as high as the heydays of the 1970s and 80s, according to Angie. Mattie might face a rude awakening when her rose-tinted childhood memories collided with today’s reality. And the chances of her finding that guest house she was attempting to hunt down? About as minimal as Nell’s crime prevention budget being increased. At least there’d been nochatting about jobs, which had suited her just fine. Revealing she was a police inspector tended to make some people twitchy.
