‘I will.’ Judith Klein nodded with a smile. ‘And am I allowed to relay the news about the party in the barn to my customers and anyone I bump into?’
Morgan placed her hand on the top of Judith’s arm. ‘Just hold fire for a day or two love until I get the go ahead from the fire chief, then be sure to flag down Mrs Calloway when she’s passing and tell her. Word of mouth will spread quicker than wildfire. Although, I’ll be sure to put up some posters up and get Reverend Townsend to mention at the Sunday service as well.’
Judith Klein laughed. ‘We ought to count our lucky stars we have aMrs Calloway. Every town should have one. Where would we be without her?’
Morgan smiled. ‘I know, bless her. Anyway, I must be on my way. Katherine will be wondering where I’ve got to.’
Judith Klein nodded. ‘And I’d better get this windowsill clean so I can get back inside. The wind is starting to pick up. Be careful it doesn't blow you over Morgan.’ Judith looked down at Morgan’s walking stick as she spoke.
Morgan nodded with a smile and turned away. People were so kind not to mention her disability directly. She was always so very aware of her walking stick. She knew as soon as she was advised by the doctor to use it continuously, she would never get used to having it permanently glued to her hand. To her, it wasa beacon alluding to her physical weakness—and she hated to think of herself as weak, especially after the strength she’d found to carry on with life after losing Bren.
She sucked in a ragged breath. There she was again, thinking about Bren and how quickly and cruelly he was taken from her. She’d blocked those memories these past three decades, deciding to only think about their good times. They hadn’t had many years of marriage, but the ones they’d shared together had been wonderful, and she’d eternalised them, seeing them in the rose-tinted glasses they deserved every time they were called upon.
The seafront came into view and Morgan gasped when she looked out at the sea. It was gnarly and choppy and as grey as wet slate, a dark ominous swell of power. The view was nothing like the majestic double-blue sea-sky view that normally greeted the residents when she looked out to see. It was January after all, and she supposed the weather couldn’t be the calm idyllic seaside weather they wanted all the time.
Tammy’s Tearoom came into view, a welcoming warm honey haze of light beaming from within in the cold stark grey morning. A gust of wind made Morgan falter mid-step and she pushed her cane firmly between the cobbles until it passed, drawing her scarf tighter around her neck as she continued on.
The blue door she’d pushed open so many times over the years going into Kathy’s Cafe, the name the tearoom had once been when Katherine had run her business from there, got closer, and Morgan counted down the steps to get to it. The seagulls circled and squawked not far away, still looking for food or enjoying the excitement of soaring on squally winds.
Pushing the door open, the tinkle of the bell was a welcome sound, it signified she’d made it to the finish line. Strolling in gusty winds would be no mean feat for an able-bodied person,but to someone with a disability, it was another small win, a way of sticking a proverbial finger up at her disability.
She fought to close the door against the wind until a large body was suddenly by her side closing the door for her. She looked up into kind familiar eyes shrouded by bushy salt and pepper eyebrows. A strong arm went around Morgan’s shoulders, and she was actually glad of the support it gave her. She hadn’t realised until it was there how weak she felt after being battered by the wind in her short pit stop and conversation with Judith Klein as she walked from The Cheese Wedge and Pickles to here.
‘Morgan, are you alright? You must be made of strong stuff to attempt walking the seafront this morning. This weather front is here for another couple of hours yet,’ said Ned.
Morgan’s head nodded voluntarily, even though she didn’t feel alright, for a start her legs felt like wet spaghetti. ‘I-I just need to sit down for a moment.’
Ned guided her over to a table already being used. It had a plate of half-eaten breakfast on it and half a steaming cup of tea on it. ‘Here, sit there.’ Ned fussed over her until she was sitting down, then he settled into the chair in front of the breakfast. ‘Didn’t you listen to the weather report on the local radio station?’
Morgan shook her head. ‘I must confess, I didn’t. I usually leave that to Brett.’
Ned’s brow pulled together. ‘Didn’t he tell you about the storm that’s brewing?’
Morgan shook her head. ‘When I left, he was sitting in his armchair listening to the local news, but he never mentioned the weather.’
Ned grimaced. ‘I suppose it’s understandable he doesn’t always pass on the news or weather report with his dementia.’ Morgan smiled thinly and nodded, feeling a natural reaction toprotect her brother-in-law—her ward. ‘How’s he been lately? I haven’t seen him in the pub all week?’
‘He’s actually been good mentally, although he’s recently had a bit of a flare up with his arthritis, so he’s taken it easy this week.’
Ned’s eyes flicked across Morgan’s face, before dropping down her body to her cane and then up to her face again. Morgan shuffled shyly in her seat. If Ned had looked at her with such concern five years ago, she would have been burning up from a menopausal blush right about now. ‘And how areyoucoping, looking after him? Is Pippa and Oliver helping you out enough with things?’
Morgan’s brow lifted. She knew Brett and Ned had been good friends all their lives, but right now, he appeared to be more concerned about her well-being than Bretts. She nodded. ‘Yes-yes, Pippa and Oliver are faultless. Even though Pippa is suffering terribly with morning sickness at the moment.’ Morgan’s hand lifted swiftly to her mouth, and she gasped. Pippa wanted to keep her pregnancy secret until she was past the first trimester, Morgan had promised her she wouldn’t tell a soul, so why had she let it slip to Ned of all people, she hadn’t even told the girls at their city meal?
Ned gasped and his mouth curled up into an open smile. ‘Pippa pregnant?’
Morgan lifted her index finger to her lips making a shushing sound. ‘Please don’t tell a soul Ned. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.’
‘The secret is safe with me Morgan; you know I have your back with anything.’
Morgan blinked, letting Ned’s comment sink in. He reallydidhave her back—he always did. Why had she not noticed until he’d pointed it out himself? Morgan always praised herself on her intuitive skills with people, a skill she’d acquired workingalongside her sister and brother-in-law in the public house and brewery industry for the last couple of decades.
Tammy came over to the table with a smile on her face and a pen and notebook poised in hand. ‘Good morning, Morgan. What’s it like out there? The wind seems to have picked up in the last half-an-hour.’
Morgan glanced out of the window, she couldn’t see the sea from here, but the red and white striped awning above the shop opposite was lifting up and down rapidly with the strength of the wind.
‘Very, very blustery.’ Morgan suddenly remembered her meeting with her friend Katherine and looked around the tearoom for her, she was surprised by how busy it was considering the weather. ‘Has Katherine not come in yet?’
Tammy’s face lit up. ‘Katherine is back in the bay?’
