Jasmine smiled. 'It just needs work. It’s a shame neither of us can come and help you get stuck in at the moment.'
Tilly laughed. 'It genuinely does look better now, but I'm sitting here thinking I came here via a Facebook post, so what should I expect? I had one phone call with a woman in a hospital corridor. There’s so much work to do. What have I actually done?'
Jasmine made a wincing face. 'Have you done anything legally yet?'
'Not yet. The ball is rolling regarding putting solicitors in place and all that stuff, but it's not anywhere near. I could pull out, technically. That's the bit that keeps going round my head.'
Jasmine held up a hand. 'Right, here's what I think. You don't decide yet. You give it a proper go with a deadline. Give it a few more weeks, and then you'll see if the place fits. If, at the end of it, you're standing there thinking I want out, then you ring the solicitor, and you pull the plug before completion. You'll have lost some Dettol money and gained a very weird story. I don’t think you owe that Margery woman anything. She wasn’t quite honest with you.'
'I guess that’s a plan. To be fair, she’s got a lot on her plate.' Tilly nodded.
'Put a date in your phone. You're a woman who likes an exit plan.'
Tilly looked at the screen and smiled. Jasmine had always been the sensible one, and she loved to lecture. ‘I might.’
Pia got on board. 'It’s a good idea. Tils, put a date in your phone right now while we watch.'
Tilly tapped the calendar on her phone. 'Okay, yep, done. I’ll regroup in a few weeks. I guess I don’t owe anyone anything.'
Jasmine smiled. 'You do not. You might love it once you settle in a bit more. At the end of the day, you’ve flown around the world to get there, so youhaveto give it a go. Anyway, send some more photos. That bedroom looks lovely already. Honestly, put some nice sheets on that bed, dress it up, and it could be in a magazine.'
'Okay. I’ll regroup in a few weeks. I suppose, as you say, I don’t owe anyone anything.'
‘You don’t, and you’re there now. Okie-dokie, ladies, I have to shoot. Chin up, Tils.'
Pia nodded. 'Yep, chin up. You’ll be fine. It could be a lot worse.'
Tilly chuckled. 'Thanks, you’ve made me feel more positive, actually. You’re right, the views are great, and it does have potential. The Properlies to the rescue. See you both. Thanks.'
The call ended, and Tilly felt a bit better about what she’d gone and done. Now that she’d made a decision to dig in for a few weeks and see what happened, at least there was some sort of end point, or beginning point as the case may be, to her new start by the sea.
14
Tilly was on her way to the tram stop about five or so minutes' walk from the Boat Shed. As she walked along, she mulled over what the girls had said and decided that she would follow through and stay on Darling to see what was what. Thinking about getting a part-time hospitality job to see her through whatever happened, she wondered if she would have any chance of getting something locally. To be frank, finding a job right away would suit her well, give her a bit of breathing space to get the shed up to speed and allow her to ease into living back in Blighty. As she turned down a small road and then went left at the end, she checked her maps and then spied an old Victorian timber tram shelter set into the pavement. Just underneath a gabled roof, a small digital sign flickered over a bench where an elderly man with a tartan shopping trolley and a woman with a wicker bag on her lap sat chatting.
Approaching the shelter, Tilly stood adjacent and looked up at the digital sign as it flickered through its rotation.
Darling Bay — 4 mins. Darling Main — 9 mins. Castle — 18 mins.
A bell sounded from somewhere down the road, and a moment later, a tram appeared in the distance. Widening her eyes and devoid of jet lag, Tilly couldn't believe how beautiful the old tram was. She'd read about it and seen pictures, but in real life, it razzle-dazzled and then some. Lovely old timber painted white, cream and dark blue, sliding windows on both sides and a bell hanging from a braided rope inside the roof.Darling Tramways Co.painted in gold along the side. It came to a slow stop at the shelter, and a handful of passengers got off. A woman in a uniform with a white polo shirt with blue epaulettes, navy trousers and a matching waistcoat beamed. Her hair was in a thick plait over one shoulder, and she greeted the man with the tartan trolley as he got on.
'Morning, Mr Cooke. Down by the horn again?'
'Just a little look, Shelly love. Not as much as last week.'
'Anything for the collection?'
The man opened the lid of his trolley and held out something on the flat of his hand. Shelly peered down and nodded in the manner of a woman who had been shown a great number of pebbles in her time.
'That's a nice one. You take care now. Storm coming through, they said. Have you heard?'
'Of course. I’m going to batten down.'
'Quite right.'
Mr Cooke shuffled off down the tram and sat himself down by a window, settling the trolley between his knees. Shelly turned to the woman with the wicker bag, exchanged a few quick words about somebody called Margaret and waved her through. She turned to Tilly as Tilly stepped on. 'Morning, my lover.'
'Morning.'
