‘It is. This car is rammed. I’ve even had to shove stuff into the footwell of the front seat.’ Callie blew out a breath and lifted her hair from the back of her neck. ‘Phew. I’m hot.’
‘Sorry you had to do all the carting stuff down to the car.’
‘Couldn’t be helped. You couldn’t do it, not with your leg.’
Frida grinned. ‘Not with my leg! You make me sound about forty!’
Callie put her hands on her hips and stared her daughter down. ‘Oh, and that’s old, is it?’
‘Geriatric.’
‘Well, get in the car then and your geriatric mother will haul her ancient and groaning body back up the track and lock up. It’s the only thing I’m not going to miss about this place, this steep hill. At least at home we’re on the flat.’
‘Yeah, and usually two streets away cos we can’t find a parking space.’
Callie groaned. ‘Don’t remind me. And I’m not looking forward to the M5 on a Friday in August either.’
‘Mum?’ Frida hadn’t moved; she was still sitting on the ledge of the tailgate, her injured leg stretched out.
Callie gave the shoe bag another shove so there was a remote chance the boot would close. Glancing at her watch, she reined in her impatience; the sooner they hit the M5 the better. The traffic would only get worse. As if to taunt her, the scent of the white roses around the front door of the cottage drifted down, reminding her of the day she’d arrived at Sea Haven House. She’d had to battle the traffic that day too. It seemed in another lifetime, so much had happened. Looking up the track at the white gate and the pretty front garden she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave but Frida seemed keen to get back. ‘Yes, Fri.’
‘Have you seen Johnny since the accident?’
‘I popped into his ward after we’d cleared A&E to check he was okay. He said they’d kept him in for obs and I managed to escape before his mad family came to collect him. Said he was being kidnapped and taken to the family house in Exeter.’
‘Did you thank him?’ Frida examined her nails intently, her voice casual but Callie wasn’t deceived.
‘Yes, course I did.’
‘He was pretty awesome.’
Callie nodded. The relief when Johnny had been blown into the beach hut and had taken control had been amazing. Not a very feminist or independent-thinking notion but true. ‘It must have been hard for him.’
Frida looked up. ‘What do you mean?’ She lurched to her feet and tried slamming the boot shut. It closed on the third attempt. ‘You mean the rain?’ She pulled a face. ‘It was a pretty major storm.’
‘It was more than that. He’s got some trauma from his days as a correspondent. He’s spent his working life reporting from wars and earthquakes. It’s left its mark.’
‘Wow. That’s awful. He was dead brave then. I mean, he knew the wall was in danger of coming down and he still came looking for you.’
‘Us. He came looking for us.’
‘No, Mum. He came to rescue you. He battled his mental health and came foryou.Are you sure you thanked him? Seems to me it’s a lot to be thankful for.’
‘You can thank me now, if you like.’
Callie wheeled round. ‘Johnny!’ He was standing on God Almighty Hill’s pavement with Verity, the vicar.
He walked slowly up to stand in the parking space. ‘Hi, Callie.’ He nodded to Frida. ‘Hello, Frida. Hope you’re okay?’
Frida gestured to the bandage revealed by her denim cut-offs. ‘Yeah, I’m good. How are you though?’
Johnny rubbed a self-conscious hand over his head. ‘Absolutely fine. No ill effects. Not from the bang on the head that is.’ He grinned. ‘Can’t say the same about being looked after by my mother and her sisters. I rang Verity and she rescued me.’
‘I bet they loved having you at home,’ Callie put in.
‘Possibly a bit too much. They send their love.’ He gazed penetratingly at her. An awkward silence dropped.
Verity puffed up the track to join them. She looked from Johnny to Callie and back again. ‘Tell you what, Frida, I really fancy an ice cream.’ She nodded to the girl’s leg. ‘I have it on very good authority that it has miraculous healing properties.Especially when you have two scoops, a flake and sprinkles. Do you think you can make it down the hill?’
