A Home In Sunset Bay. Rebecca PughЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Above the familiar stretch of golden sand in Sunset Bay, the sky was a brilliant blue, and within this blue the resident seagulls swooped and dived like miniature stunt-planes as they called to each other in morning merriment. The sky was their playground and they took advantage of it, gliding together with their wings spread wide, slicing with precision through the air. On the horizon where the sea met the sky, Mia could see a smattering of white blobs, sailboats she realised, which looked as if an artist had smudged them into the distance with his fingertip. This early in the morning, and with it only being mid-June so not yet in the busiest throes of summer, she had the entire beach to herself and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
She maintained a steady pace as the sea rushed up to kiss the soles of her trainers and remained focused on the point up ahead near the craggy rocks where she’d stop, turn, and head back in the direction she’d come from. This had become a habit since she’d relocated to the seaside town, but she felt as if she’d been doing it all of her life.
It was invigorating, jogging alongside the sea as it frothed and rolled and sprayed, and when she was alone like this, she felt like the beach belonged to her. She loved the feel of the sea breeze buffeting her cheeks, and found the song of the circling seagulls strangely comforting. Nothing could beat beginning the day in this way, which was why she didn’t mind waking up that little bit earlier to ensure she had time to do so.
When she’d moved to Sunset Bay, she remembered thinking to herself during that first morning on the beach, ‘I could get used to this,’ and get used to it she had. The town thrummed through her veins and she thrived on the very essence of it. It was a delicious slice of seaside paradise which came with the added bonus of a busy seasonal fair on the pier, coupled with the sweet scent of doughnuts, the bustling Christmas market when December rolled around and, last but by no means least, Dolly’s Diner, which had been handed down to Mia by Grandma Dolly when she’d sadly passed away. Life had always been brighter and felt so much more exciting beside the sea, so Mia had shot down there like a whippet as soon as she’d been able to.
As much as she loved the town she lived in, there were times when she’d gaze out across the ocean and wonder what else was out there. She lapped up holiday tales from the locals eagerly, desperately trying to picture their descriptions in her mind. As they recalled their vibrant cocktails sipped at the poolside and the unbearable, sweltering heat they’d had to endure, she would imagine herself in the same scenarios and feel a deep yearning in her chest. There were days when the urge to leave and go exploring for a couple of months was so overwhelming that she’d fling open her wardrobe doors and greedily seek out her suitcase tucked away at the back, hidden in the shadows of her hanging clothes. Her fancy ideas of jetting away were replaced with the reality of her responsibilities soon after.
‘Good morning, Mia!’
She spotted Jack Nelson up ahead and waved his way. Jack, like many of the older generation in Sunset Bay, had been close friends with Grandma Dolly, which was how Mia had come to know him. When Grandma Dolly had passed away, the townsfolk were devastated, but they’d supported Mia through it all, bringing pies and stews to the cottage. ‘We’re here if you need anything,’ they’d all told her with sincerity in their eyes while lingering on the doorstep. She often crossed paths with Jack early in the morning, their meetings always accompanied by his bouncy black Labrador. Willie honed in on his first victim of the day. He greeted everyone in the same frantic manner, and to Mia’s dismay he began bounding towards her with his hind legs kicking up the sand.
‘Willie! Down boy!’ yelled Jack, shielding his eyes with his gnarled hands. He brandished his walking stick in the air and wiggled it about with a fierce determination, as if that would stop Willie in his tracks, but it didn’t work and they’d both known it wouldn’t. Once Willie set his mind to something there was no stopping him.
Mia braced herself as the blur of black fur continued towards her, quickly closing the distance between them. His ears flapped and his tail wagged manically. ‘Willie, no …’ she whispered in horror as she braced herself for the inevitable impact. Given the speed Willie was running at, he’d send her flying if he didn’t slow down or stop, the latter being preferable, but her quiet wish went unnoticed and Willie took the final leap. His front paws slammed into her chest with such force that she flew back onto the sand and landed with an almighty ‘Ooof!’
‘Bloody dog!’ Jack roared, approaching as quickly as his little legs would carry him. ‘Never listens to a word I say.’ When he finally reached Mia’s side, he tugged Willie back by his collar and held a hand towards her to help her back onto her feet.
‘Oh, he’s fine!’ Mia laughed as she accepted Jack’s hand and returned to an upright position. She brushed her backside free of sand as Willie whined beside his owner. His strength tugged Jack’s hand back and forth as he tried his best to keep a tight grip on the collar to prevent another tumble. ‘He’s just happy to see me, aren’t you, boy?’ She gave Willie’s head a good scratch, unable to be angry as she looked into his chocolate-drop eyes, then tightened her long, brown ponytail and smiled at Jack. ‘Well, I’d better carry on,’ she said brightly.
‘Righto, Mia. I’ll be in for my breakfast soon!’ Jack patted his stomach then whistled for Willie to follow him. The two of them headed back towards town while Mia jogged in the opposite direction, smiling to herself. It might have only been a simple life in Sunset Bay, but it was a life that made her feel endlessly content.
***
Fighting against the temptation to stop and walk, Mia pushed herself onwards and jogged back across the stretch of sand, hurried beneath the pier and followed the uneven path that led back up to town with the rocks crunching beneath her trainers. When she arrived at Honeysuckle Cottage, she leant against the fence and allowed herself a few moments’ break while she waited for an oncoming stitch to pass. It seemed the delights of Dolly’s Diner were taking their toll on her fitness, no matter how often she exercised.
The street on which Honeysuckle Cottage sat seemed a world away from her childhood home in Richmond, London, which had been a three-bedroom, modern townhouse complete with garage and a large, neat driveway. Her mother, Marnie Chapman, was a stickler for tidiness and believed that everything had its place. Each and every item was dusted and polished to within an inch of its life. Mia didn’t mind tidiness at all, but there was something obsessive about how her mother handled the cleaning; quite obsessive was how Marnie Chapman handled everything, come to think of it.
In contrast, Honeysuckle Cottage was crammed and cramped with shelves full of knick-knacks, and rooms positively bursting with charm and character. Honeysuckle Row itself was a closed-in, quiet cul-de-sac, with three cottages either side of the road and two sitting snug at the bottom with the sea visible behind them.
Beneath the ground-floor windows, troughs filled with an abundance of wildflowers hung sweetly. They were wild, free, and vivid in colour, blossoming beautifully in the sunshine. She’d always preferred this to the identical, bland townhouses of the street she’d grown up on. The lack of order and neatness was more charming than untidy, exactly how you’d expect a cottage by the sea to appear.
After stepping inside, picking up a pile of post and discarding it on the rickety table beside the front door, Mia hurried up the stairs. The only thing she had on her mind was a cold shower. Afterwards, she dried her hair, tugged on her Dolly’s Diner uniform and smoothed it down against her thighs. She slipped on the white plimsolls and left the cottage, ready to begin another day in Sunset Bay. Leaving Honeysuckle Row, she headed towards the busier part of town, where the Cobbler’s Pub, Minnie’s Cornish pasty shop and the newsagents could be found nestled along the street.
When she approached Dolly’s Diner a short time after, she eyed the white exterior and tried to picture it years ago, back in 1951 when it had first opened its doors to the public. Grandma