‘Mmm, very nice.’
‘Aunt Morgan must have added magic spices to what I already cooked because I didn’t make anything special.’ She took a bite of her own cooking. It didn’t taste as if it had been altered and she was surprised by how good it was. She had been in too much of a dither to appreciate it when she’d sampled it earlier, before she’d plated it up for the evening’s diners. She was pleased Oliver was enjoying it.
‘I’d love to see Ginger again. Will you bring him in here after you’ve eaten? I’ll save him a piece of meat.’
Pippa looked around the busy pub at the customers. Some were regulars she hadn’t spoken to in ages. Shedidneed to do the rounds and catch up. The rest were the ramblers who were staying at the hotel, which was attached to the back of the pub. She hadn’t intended staying down here for the remainder of the evening, but Pippa thought it would be nice to catch up with old friends from the community, plus Ginger would adore the attention. ‘Yes, why not?’ Her answer seemed to please Oliver because his face brightened considerably.
They sat side by side in silence as they ate and listened to Brett continue to entertain a couple of ramblers sitting at the other end of the bar, telling them tales about how the village used to hold maypole dancing at the annual fete, amongst other things, up until there was a period in the village when there were not enough volunteers so it just naturally came to an end.
Oliver turned to Pippa. ‘It’s so sad. I remember my mother telling me about all the community gatherings coming to an end in a telephone conversation when I was living with my father in the US. This town needs to do all of those fantastic things again and bring the old traditions back so the younger generations get to enjoy them as much as we did. There are more and more traditions being lost these days.’
Pippa nodded. ‘I agree. I was at uni when the maypole dancing stopped. I also remember my mother telling me she and a couple of other people were trying to get volunteers, but there just weren’t enough.’ The thought of her mother rallying the community as she always used to make her chest tighten. She felt fiercely proud of her, yet so very sad.
Oliver placed his hand on top of hers, which was resting on the bar. ‘Are you alright, Pippa?’
Pippa drew in an astonished gasp and quickly pulled it away, dropping it into her lap. She pushed away her sad face and plastered a smile on her lips, which didn’t reach her eyes as she nodded a little too eagerly. ‘Yes, I’m experiencing a touch of nostalgia is all.’ She stood up. ‘I-I think I’ll call it a night. I’ll see you next time you’re here, Oliver.’
Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heels and headed for the door, which would take her out to the stairs leading up to the living quarters above the pub.
Nodding her head to acknowledge faces she recognised as they turned towards her as she passed them, she said her hellos, made promises to catch up another time, and then her goodnights. But as she reached the door, the eyes she felt burning into the back of her head belonged to none other than Oliver.
Act – 2 Chapter six
The sea water shimmered, looking too beautiful in Pippa’s opinion for such a cold morning. She shivered as a breeze parted the hair at the nape of her neck and blew down the back of her scarf, raising goosebumps across her skin. She shivered and pulled it tighter around her neck, then dug her hands into the deep pockets of her woollen duffel coat.
Ginger raced through the frothy waves lashing at his legs oblivious to the low temperature, his tail wagged furiously, showing his ecstasy at being in the natural environment.
Pippa’s tummy pinched with a pang of guilt. He got nowhere enough exercise in the Irish town she’d called home for the last two years. Walking through the concrete streets where she’d chosen to live over there didn’t appeal very much to either one of them at seven in the morning. Here, 7 AM took on a new life.
Pippa inhaled the cool sea air, relishing the refreshing saltiness. She hadn’t realised how much she’d actually missed living on the coast until now. Spotting a piece of driftwood, she stooped down and snatched it out of a bed of seaweed, then watched as a small crab it was concealing scurried to find a new hiding place further in the bobbled green tangle of algae.
‘Ginger. Fetch.’ She threw the driftwood and Ginger raced off after it, quickly flanked by a black Labrador which hurtled past Pippa’s legs, almost knocking her flying. ‘What the—’
She looked over her shoulder for the owner of the dog and saw Oliver jogging towards her. That’s when she realised the black Labrador was Jess. Oliver’s eyes flicked from Pippa to their pets, but they were a little wide, showing Pippa he was a little worried about the welcome Ginger might give his pet. Pippa followed his gaze, and she too found herself a little nervous in case Ginger was suddenly spooked by this new dog coming from nowhere to go after his stick. She’d never socialised him with new dogs that way before.
Before Jess reached Ginger, Oliver whistled his pet and called her name. ‘Jess. Come here, girl.’ To Pippa’s relief, Jess did as she was told and came bounding towards them, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth, which Pippa swore was part of her zany smile. Oliver grabbed her collar and swiftly attached the lead to it before patting her back. ‘Good girl.’ He straightened with a grimace. ‘Sorry about that. I was running to join you with Jess at my side, but then you threw that driftwood and she went after it, too. It’s her favourite thing to do on the beach.’
