Coming Home to Ottercombe Bay: The laugh out loud romantic comedy of the year. Bella OsborneЧитать онлайн книгу.
it had been when she was a child; the only changes she could spot were that the walls had been painted yellow, when they used to be blue, and there appeared to be the addition of a corkboard with a variety of pieces of paper and notes pinned to it. She spotted the last postcard she had sent from France and her good mood quickly faded when she remembered the disaster of her French boyfriend Guillaume.
Daisy looked down at her rucksack. Everything she owned was in it, apart from the motorbike. That was it. All her worldly goods in one package. She pulled back her shoulders and gave herself a mental shake. This was the way she liked it. No ties, nothing to keep her in one place or hold her back. She was as free as a bird and that suited her just fine. Aunt Coral ferried a large tray with a teapot and a pair of fragile-looking cups and saucers to the table and sat down opposite Daisy. She pointed at the rucksack. ‘You’re not planning on staying long, then?’ There was a sadness in her eyes as she poured their tea.
‘No, sorry. I need to leave straight after the funeral.’ Daisy broke eye contact and picked up the delicate teacup. She didn’t know where she was heading next. She had been staying in a hostel in Canterbury, hopping from one job to the next, when Aunt Coral had telephoned. It had seemed like an ideal opportunity to make it a permanent departure from Kent. As to where she was going next, she had no idea, but she wouldn’t be staying in the small Devon town any longer than was absolutely necessary.
‘Well, you can’t leave directly after the funeral, I’m afraid, because there’s the will and—’
A knock at the door was simultaneously accompanied by frantic barking from the garden making Daisy feel she was under attack from two different directions. Aunt Coral calmly got up and headed for the front door. As soon as Daisy heard the high-pitched voice a bell started to ring in the deepest recesses of her mind.
The visitor’s Devonshire accent was strong and her voice got louder and faster as she approached. ‘OhMyGod. I can’t believe it’s actually you. I mean I hoped it was when I saw the bike because I don’t know anyone with a bike like that. Not round here. And it is you, you’re here!’ A young woman with long straight dark hair flung herself at Daisy and hugged her tightly. ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she said, sitting down without taking her eyes off Daisy, which was quite disconcerting.
‘Tamsyn,’ said Daisy, recognising her. ‘It’s lovely to see you. Do you still live next door?’
‘Yeah, with Mum and Dad. They’ll be thrilled to see you too.’
‘Tamsyn has been a wonderful help keeping an eye on Reg while I’ve been at work. Reg has kept every card or letter you have ever sent from all your travels and I think he’s read them all to Tamsyn a few times over. And you know how he always liked to tell stories and you featured in quite a few of those too.’
‘Not the fantasy ones with dwarves. You weren’t in those,’ said Tamsyn, her face deadpan.
Daisy wasn’t sure how to respond, but thankfully Aunt Coral started speaking again. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without Tamsyn these last few months. She’s virtually one of the family now. Aren’t you, Tamsyn?’
‘OhMyGod. Does that make us sisters?’ said Tamsyn, jigging about excitedly in her chair – the same action being mirrored at the back door by the dog.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Daisy with a chuckle. Tamsyn was joking, wasn’t she? Here was a prime example why people should leave home and explore the world, thought Daisy. Staying here had turned Tamsyn into Ottercombe Bay’s answer to Phoebe Buffay from Friends, blurring the line between adorable and certifiable.
‘Where are you going next?’ asked Tamsyn, wide-eyed, cupping her tea with both hands. Daisy wished Tamsyn would blink more often – it couldn’t be good for her eyes. Daisy spotted Aunt Coral also looking at her intently; she felt under pressure to say something and oddly the need to impress.
‘Um, I’m not sure. Abroad again probably …’ She didn’t have the money right now but her long-term plan was definitely to travel more extensively. ‘South America,’ she blurted out. It was somewhere she had always wanted to go but living hand to mouth meant it was only ever going to be a pipedream.
Tamsyn’s mouth dropped open. ‘Wow, you are my absolute hero.’ She turned to Aunt Coral who gave a proud nod.
Daisy felt awkward and it showed on her face. She dropped her gaze to her teacup. She began to recall more about Tamsyn as her brain rearranged her archived memories. She remembered the little girl who followed her everywhere, who went beachcombing with her and liked to collect shells but screamed if she found a crab. She remembered sitting on the edge of the pavement watching the carnival procession together. She remembered them as gawky teenagers swigging cider behind the beach huts. She remembered a friend.
‘You not going to the carnival tonight?’ asked Daisy.
Tamsyn grinned. ‘I was on my way out when I spotted the motorbike.’
‘Sorry,’ said Daisy. ‘You shouldn’t miss it for me.’
‘Uh, no way. You’re far better than any crumby old carnival. I was only going to get a look at the men in uniform.’
Daisy recalled the officious bloke in the high-vis top. ‘Really?’
‘Oh, yeah. Police, firefighters, lifeboat crew, they all have floats in the carnival now.’ At the mention of lifeboat crew Aunt Coral and Daisy exchanged looks.
‘It’s a shame my brother couldn’t make it for the funeral,’ said Aunt Coral, her nose twitching slightly. Daisy noted the offhand reference to her father.
‘Dad’s really sorry. He sends his love though,’ said Daisy, who had hoped her father would have made the effort to attend but given he lived in Goa it was never really on the cards. Aunt Coral nodded her understanding.
‘Oh, I remember your dad. He rescued me once when I built this amazing sandcastle with a moat and I was so busy trying to keep the water out I hadn’t noticed the tide creep in and it was all around me and he waded out to save me,’ said Tamsyn, as she machine-gunned the story out.
Daisy smirked. ‘I remember that day. It was only ankle deep; you didn’t need rescuing at all.’ Daisy laughed.
Tamsyn pouted playfully. ‘Huh, I could have been swept away – the current here is very strong.’
Before she realised it, Daisy was deep in conversation as the memories flooded back. And for a change they were pleasant ones she was happy to recall. Time seemed to whizz by and Daisy was vaguely aware Aunt Coral was now walking around wearing pyjamas. She checked her watch, causing Tamsyn to look at the kitchen clock.
‘Crikey it’s late,’ said Tamsyn, making Daisy grin at the old-fashioned turn of phrase. ‘Mum and Dad will be wondering where I am.’ Getting to her feet Tamsyn gave Daisy another huge hug. ‘I am pleased you’re home,’ she added, then turned to Aunt Coral and kissed her cheek. ‘Bye. See you tomorrow.’
‘Yes, thanks Tamsyn.’
‘Tomorrow?’ asked Daisy as the sound of the porch door being vigorously shoved announced Tamsyn’s departure.
‘She comes around most days.’
‘Doesn’t she work?’
‘Oh yes, good little worker is Tamsyn, but it’s all a bit erratic at the beach café. They have school kids working there in the summer, pay them next to nothing and only have poor Tamsyn for the lunchtime rush.’
Daisy pondered this. She’d always thought her lack of being able to land a decent job was because of her frequent moves but it seemed even if she’d stayed locally she’d have been no better off. Her thoughts were invaded by a disgruntled-looking Bugsy rushing into the kitchen. He marched up to Daisy and shook himself. Daisy offered him a finger to sniff and he promptly wiped his nose on it.
‘Ew!’ Daisy recoiled, pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her hand. Bugsy looked quite pleased with himself, he even gave