Verity didn’t know what to do. The shock of possibly losing the van was swamping her. ‘I just can’t think… Oh no! Ava. She’s meeting me in Amsterdam.’
‘Let’s get you warmed up and you can have a think about what you’re going to do.’
Looking out of the window, Verity saw a steady stream of cars driving towards them. ‘That’s a lot of people up at this time in the morning.’
‘They probably either work off the island or are catching one of the early ferries.’
Once they’d left the causeway, Sam drove straight towards Lighthouse Lane. He slowed down as he approached the rainbow-coloured cottages then swung into the first driveway. ‘Here we are.’
Verity’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe it. ‘You have to be kidding me.’
Sam parked the car. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You live here?’
‘I do.’
‘This is unreal. This is my cottage.’
‘Have you had a bang on the head, too?’
In her excitement, Verity grabbed his arm. ‘When I was a child my granny used to tell me stories about this cottage and I said I was going to live here one day. I can’t believe this.’
She stared at the whimsical, cosy storybook cottage. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘This cottage has been in the Wilson family for as long as anyone can remember.’
‘My granny…she’s been here.’ Verity pointed to the oak porch with the blush-coloured roses tumbling all over it. ‘She always told me the roses around the door were stunning. How long have they been here?’
‘For as long as I can remember.’
‘Wilson. The W has to be Wilson.’
‘Like I said last night, I don’t think it’s possible. Have you any more information to go on?’
‘Only the date stamped on the postcard. Oh, and the picture of the puffins that’s been hanging in Granny’s house for years and years. There was a message written on the back of it in the same handwriting as the postcard. It said, “The summer of 1972”.’
Sam’s eyes shot up. ‘My grandfather died the summer of 1972.’
‘I’ve got a gut feeling about this, I think my granny and your grandfather knew each other. She went into so much detail about this cottage. She’s been here.’
‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’ Sam climbed out of the car then did the gentlemanly thing and opened the passenger side for Verity.
‘You’d best come in and see if it lives up to your expectations.’ Sam put the key in the lock and opened the door.
Verity stepped inside and was surprised to see Sam put his finger to his lips.
‘Can you hear that?’ he whispered.
‘I can’t hear anything,’ Verity whispered back.
‘That is the sound of the worst guard dog in the world. Not one bark!’
Verity stifled a giggle. ‘Jimmy will be too busy dreaming about shoes.’
Hanging up her rucksack on the coat stand in the hallway, Sam led the way into the living room, pulled an armchair towards the open log fire and quickly lit the fire. ‘I’m glad I got the fire ready yesterday. Take a seat and I’ll get you a towel, a jumper and some tea. Then you can tell me all about this postcard.’
Verity was standing in the middle of the room, amazement no doubt written all over her face as she spun around taking in everything. ‘This is surreal.’
