‘If you join the queue of cars going that way’—he pointed to the right —‘they’re just starting to board the ferry. Oh, and good luck.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Verity, smiling. Placing the tickets on the passenger seat, she gave him a nod of appreciation before making her way to the ferry. ‘Puffin Island, here we come!’ she said to herself, excitement fizzing inside.
She joined the long line of vehicles driving towards the ferry. She stared at the colossal vessel in front of her. She’d never seen a ferry this close. There were stewards along the way waving flags, directing them onto the ferry and into the next available parking space.
The large ramps made a clanging noise as she drove over them onto the boat, manoeuvring carefully through the tightly packed vehicles. Taking the next available space, she parked the van and gathered everything she might need for the ferry ride. Just before she stepped out of the van, she pinged a text to Ava.
Change of plan for me too! But I’ll still be there before you! I’ll tell you all when I see you. X
With her phone still in her hand, Verity jumped as the steward knocked on her window, encouraging her to vacate her vehicle as quickly as possible. Over the tannoy, an announcement sounded. ‘Please take all your belongings you need for your journey as there will be no return to your vehicle possible during this sailing.’
Purse, check, Kindle, check, phone, check. Verity had everything she needed. Once the van was locked, she slipped the keys into her rucksack and turned to follow the long line of passengers who were weaving through the parked vehicles towards a flight of metal steps at the far end of the ferry, with a sign reading,To the deck.
Verity immediately recognised the car parked opposite her as the four-wheel drive belonging to the handsome stranger. Her pulse began to race, knowing he was actually on the same ferry as her, though at the minute he was nowhere to be seen. Verity couldn’t resist a peek inside his car as she walked past. The interior was immaculate; it looked like it had just been driven off the showroom floor. The only thing visible inside was his suit jacket hanging up in the passenger window. Walking past the steward who was directing the passengers towards the stairs, she asked, ‘Excuse me, how many passengers are on this ferry?’ She wondered how difficult it might be to track down the stranger.
‘One thousand five hundred passengers, four hundred and seventy-three cars, two hundred and forty-seven cabins, seven hundred and eighty-six beds, three hundred and thirty-seven reclining seats, a self-service restaurant, a bar, a café, a gift shop, two cinemas, a video game arcade, a children’s playroom, a reading lounge and WiFi. These ferries cover forty-five thousand miles per year,’ the steward finished in a rush before she finally came up for breath.
‘Wow.’ Verity was impressed. ‘I’m guessing that’s not the first time you’ve said that this week?’ she replied, smiling.
‘I’ve lost count. It’s that way to the deck and everywhere is signposted once you’re up above.’
Calling her thanks as she was swept along by the crowd, Verity was soon up on deck, where she found a cabin with rows and rows of seats, most of them already occupied, huge windows looking out over the water. At the back of the boat was an outside deck where passengers were leaning against the safety rail waiting for the ferry to set sail. The queue to the café was already long and even though Verity was feeling hungry she found herself a vacant seat in the cabin and made herself comfortable.
Hearing her phone ping she looked at the screen to find a message from Ava.
Tell me more!
I’m chasing a secret romance on an island full of puffins!
After slipping her phone back into her rucksack she glanced around the cabin, but the handsome stranger was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. Feeling a little disappointed she turned towards the window and thought about what exactly her plan should be when she arrived on Puffin Island.
She’d boarded the ferry on a whim, chasing a secret and a romantic dream, excited at the prospect of exploring the island her granny had told her about. The burning question was: would anyone remember her granny? It was probably unlikely but she remained hopeful that she might find some answers and a new connection to the grandmother she’d loved so deeply.
The horn sounded and the ferry slowly began to move, the gulls still circling above. The rain had stopped for the moment but if the colour of the sky was anything to go by, that wasn’t going to be for long. Taking a glance towards the queue at the café Verity saw that it wasn’t dwindling fast, so with nothing but time on her hands, she pulled out her phone and Googled Puffin Island again. She knew from her granny’s stories that the causeway was the main route on and off the island, and that it was closed at certain times of the day when the tide was high. According to the online timetable, the next time Verity could cross the causeway to Puffin Island would be just after two o’clock that afternoon.
Verity wondered whether village life on the island was exactly like in her granny’s stories. She smiled to herself. Whenever she’d had a sleepover at Granny’s she’d always wanted to go to bed early so she could listen to the next instalment of what everyone got up to on Puffin Island. The tales started coming back to her now. Beachcomber Bakery, which made and sold delicious cake. The ‘to die for’ (according to Granny) afternoon cream tea from the tearoom on Lighthouse Lane. Verity racked her brain trying to remember its name but eventually gave up and Googled ‘tearoom on Lighthouse Lane’. And there it was: the award-winning Café by the Coast. The thatched Grade 2-listed cottage, offering traditional clotted cream teas, tasty sandwiches and scrumptious cakes, lay at the end of Lighthouse Lane overlooking Blue Water Bay.
As with Puffin Island itself, Verity couldn’t believe the tearoom’s owner, Betty Rose, was real, but there she was, proudly standing in front of the teashop on the front page of its website. In her seventies now, Betty apparently hadn’t quite retired, still working three days a week alongside her granddaughter, Clemmie, to welcome thousands of tourists every year. According to their website, to avoid disappointment it was recommended to book a table in advance to sample the delights of their award-winning cream teas. So that’s exactly what Verity did: booked a table for one at three o’clock that very afternoon.
The picturesque Lighthouse Lane, the main street of Puffin Island, had camera-worthy credentials and had no doubt graced countless postcards, keyrings and chocolate boxes in its time. Pastel-painted houses and timber-framed buildings lined the gently winding cobbled lane, with its numerous bespoke shops and boutiques including a second-hand bookstore, Beachcomber Bakery, and Puffin Pantry, a delicatessen that sold local jam and chutneys alongside meats and cheeses.
The lane took its name from the lighthouse just off the harbour adjacent to Puffin Island, which guarded shipwreck shallows. Docked in the nearby bay, The Sea Glass Restaurant, with its spectacular glass bottom that showed the clear blue waters underneath the tables, was a favourite place to dine for locals and visitors alike. The next street, Anchor Way, also cobbled, offered the finest in fashion, and all seaside essentials. The B&B, along with Smuggler’s Rest, the island’s hotel, was located here, a stone’s throw from the pub, The Olde Ship Inn. Anchor Way led into a small square where you could discover local whimsical contemporary art in the gallery, and aged treasures in the antique shops.
Puffin Island had one hundred and sixty residents, and attracted over six hundred thousand visitors a year – and Verity was about to become one of them! Moving on to Google Earth, Verity zoomed in on the map to follow the small path leading from the end of Lighthouse Lane to Blue Water Bay, which had a sandy shore, clear blue water and a breathtaking scenic coastline. Across the bay, was the harbour and further on the sand dunes which led you to another secluded cove, Castaway Cove, where the rocky coastline leading up to the cliffs housed the forty-three thousand pairs of puffins that made their home on Puffin Island between April and June every year. As Verity zoomed in further she noticed an isolated cottage, which looked exactly how she’d always pictured the cottage that often featured in Granny’s stories.
According to her granny, Cliff Top Cottage, nestled amongst the puffins’ dens, was the most beautiful and sought-after cottage on the island, with stunning views over the harbour. Taking a glance out of the ferry’s window, Verity saw that the coastline was diminishing in the background and the ferry was gathering speed. Once more, the heavens opened and the rain began to lash against the water and window. The sea looked choppy and Verity’s stomach flipped. All of a sudden, she began to feel a little queasy and her whole body felt warm. Her stomach churning, she turned towards the café, finding the queue was now only five people deep. Taking her chance, she left her rucksack on the chair and slipped her phone into the pocket of her shorts.
‘A bottle of water please,’ said Verity, once she’d reached the front of the queue. Only an hour ago she was ravenous but now she was doing her best to hold on to last night’s ready meal.
‘Anything else?’ asked the shop assistant with a smile.
Verity looked towards the menu on the blackboard behind the assistant, then scanned the sandwiches in the glass cabinet. Her stomach lurched and she felt herself pale. ‘I’m not quite sure, I’m suddenly feeling very unwell.’
The assistant looked sympathetic. ‘Is it your first time on a ferry?’
Verity nodded. ‘I was feeling absolutely fine five minutes ago but now…’
‘Try and stay distracted, I always find nibbling on a biscuit helps to take off the edge.’
