FIVE
‘Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.’ Mark wiped his hands on a rag. ‘If you want ter get ’er back on the road, it’s gonna to take a whole new transmission, and I won’t be able ter get ’old of one for a few weeks at least. As I said, vintage American parts aren’t easy to come by.’
‘A few weeks?’ Ellie looked at him, unable to process what he was saying. ‘But I’ve got to be back in London by then, more or less. We’re supposed to be on a road trip!’
Mark shrugged apologetically. ‘Sorry. I’m amazed you made it this far, to be honest. Take it you didn’t ’ave a mechanic look at it before you bought it?’
Ellie hadn’t, but she didn’t want to explain why. She shook her head, hating the fact that he probably thought she was some stupid woman that didn’t know anything about cars. She didn’t, in fact, but normally she would never have bought a second-hand motorhome with an almost dead transmission – whatever that was. How to explain that she’d been in a desolate painkiller-and-surgery-induced fugue when she’d bought it?
‘No, I didn’t,’ she said, curtly. ‘How much will it cost to fix?’
Mark gave her the number, which made her flinch.
‘I mean, she’s vintage, so if she were restored and repaired, she’d ‘ave decent resale value,’ he explained. ‘People love these Airstreams now. I restored a motorhome last year for a woman, she wanted to use it as a food truck. What I’m saying is, I’m ’appy to do it. But it’s gonna take time and money, and you might not wanna do it.’
‘I can afford it,’ Ellie retorted. ‘It’s not that. It’s the time.’ She turned to Fee. ‘You had a whole route worked out. We didn’t plan to be stuck in the back of beyond.’
She knew it was a rude remark as soon as she’d said it, and Mark’s face showed that he thought so too. She wanted to take it back, but the moment had gone, and anyway, she hardly knew the man.
Fee frowned. ‘Well, it is pretty nice here. Why don’t we go down to the beach and have a think about it? Mark, can we let you know when we get back? We’ll just be an hour or so.’
‘’Course.’ He shaded his eyes from the sun. ‘I’ll be ’ere. As I said, Esther Christie sometimes takes in guests at her cottage. It’s down near the cove.’ He gave them the address on a piece of paper. ‘If you’re going into the village, give ’er a knock and ask.’
‘Okay. Thanks. We’ll see you soon.’ Fee took Ellie’s arm and steered her towards the garage gateway. ‘Be nice,’ she muttered, under her breath, so that only Ellie could hear. ‘This guy’s helping us out, you know. He didn’t have to let us stay here last night. He could have turfed us out of Marilyn, but he knew you were spark out in the back.’
Ellie sighed. ‘I know, I know.’
They walked up the road and left onto a narrow lane which led out onto a small high street. As Fee had described, there was a welcoming-looking café in the middle with a small bakery opposite and a sign above another building that proclaimed it as a Shipwreck and Smuggling Museum. Along the street a little, they passed a butcher’s shop and an antiques shop with a ‘Closed’ sign in the window. There was also a small art gallery, a couple of houses and what looked like a catering business at the end of the street.
‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ Fee asked. ‘Cobbled streets! Independent businesses! I like it.’
‘It’s okay,’ Ellie agreed, reluctantly. She was more of a city girl at heart, though she could see that Magpie Cove was very quaint.Chocolate box appeal, she thought, remembering a phrase from one of the daytime property shows she’d been watching since she’d been at home. Wasn’t that what it was called?
‘Well, I like it.’ Fee took Ellie’s arm. ‘And… ta dah! Not bad, eh?’
A horseshoe-shaped yellow sandy cove opened up before them, with the sun sparkling on the sapphire-blue water. Ellie had to admit that it was breath-taking. Craggy cliffs rose around the cove to the right, and a rocky escarpment led out into the water on the left. Ellie could just see beyond it into another cove where a few houses dotted the shore. In the cove in front of her, one beach house sat to the right where the sandy cove met the mainland.
Ellie stared out at the brilliant blue sea. A group of people were bobbing around, midway out towards the horizon. ‘Okay. Yes, it’s really nice.’ Ellie gave Fee a grudging smile. ‘But I can’t see us staying here for weeks, can you?’
‘Well, let’s find this Esther what’s-her-name.’ Fee waved the piece of paper Mark had given her under Ellie’s nose. ‘She might have some kind of amazing place that might change your mind.’
They followed Mark’s directions and found the cottage. Ellie knocked on the door, and then again, louder, when no one answered. A man’s head with a bushy white beard appeared out of the window above.
‘Can I ’elp you?’ he shouted down.
‘Is Esther here? Mark Gardner told us to come and see her about bed and breakfast,’ Ellie shouted up to him.
‘Naw. She’s down at the beach, ’avin a swim. Be back dreckly,’ the man answered in a broad Cornish accent. ‘If I were thee, I’d go an’ find ’er at the cove.’
‘Right. Okay, we will,’ Fee replied, waving. ‘Thanks!’
‘Yer welcome, maid.’ The man nodded to them. ‘Mind ye, I dunno she’ll be wantin’ ter take in any more lodgers.’
Fee frowned. ‘Oh. I see.’
‘But ask ’er anyways. She might ’ave some suggestions for ye.’ The old man smiled kindly. ‘Take care now.’ He closed the window.
‘Well, that’s a good start.’ Fee rolled her eyes. ‘Come on. I’ll buy you an ice cream.’
