Little Kiosk By The Sea (22 page)

‘Neither. Connections to both those families appear to have died out. But we do have cousins here for sure. I’ve met with them.’

‘If the link has died out, how come?’ Jessica asked.

‘Great-uncle Lance.’

‘Impossible. He died in the war,’ his mother said.

‘Like Grandpa Randy, he met and fell in love with a local girl,’ BB said. ‘She was pregnant with a baby girl when he was killed. He never knew, so couldn’t have told Grandpa who would, I know, have done his darnedest to find her and help.’

‘So is our great-aunt over there still alive?’ Jessica said.

‘She’s dead but her daughter, Elisabett James, is very much alive. She has a family too. Elisabett is two years older than you, Mom. Her daughter, Cousin Patricia, is in her forties and so is her brother Oliver. Haven’t met him yet. He lives somewhere called Cumbria.’

‘Did you take photos when you met them?’ Marilyn asked.

‘I forgot. Too excited. I’m seeing them again soon. Will take some and email them to you.’

‘Make sure you do. Tell them anytime they want to visit, they’ll be more than welcome.’

‘They’ve already issued the same invitation to you,’ BB said. ‘So hopefully you’ll all get to meet soon. I’m here for another couple of weeks if you want to come over?’

Marilyn shook her head. ‘Too much going on here for the next month. We’ll arrange a visit for next year. Now, tell us about the boat you’ve found.’

For the next five minutes, BB talked about
Chevalier
, filling them in on its history and saying how much he was looking forward to sailing her back to Southern Carolina.

Fifteen minutes later, he cut the Skype link having been caught up to date by Marilyn and Jessica with things going on back home and sat back, a smile on his face. Marilyn and Jessica were already talking about a holiday in England next year and he was definitely going to hold them to that. He wanted them to meet Rachel too.

With Rachel away on holiday, he’d got into the habit of spending more time in the cottage, enjoying the freedom of having time on his own in such delightful surroundings. It was like a second home to him now. The day Johnnie had introduced him to Rachel had been a fortuitous one for him.

Briefly he wondered if Johnnie had managed to contact Rachel before she went away. Somehow he doubted it. She’d been in a hurry to go. Said something about a lucky cancellation in the hotel of her choice somewhere down in Cornwall. Hopefully she was having a good time, he’d thought she’d looked rather strained before she left.

Before he closed the laptop down, BB checked his emails. Johnnie had arranged for him to crew on
Chevalier
tomorrow in one of the Regatta races and he lived in fear of it being cancelled. No email to that effect, so an early start in the morning. Couldn’t wait.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

HARRIET

A perfect early evening during Regatta Week and the Lewis family were together on the terrace, each enjoying the moment in their own way.

Harriet, looking out across the river to Kingswear, remembered long ago years when she’d stood here waiting for the Red Arrows to show off their aerobatics. Frank, his binoculars trained on the yachts returning from racing out in the bay, thought about learning to sail, while Ellie was curled up in one of the ancient cane chairs flicking through a glossy magazine.

Earlier they’d been in town soaking up the atmosphere of Regatta Week and watching the dinghies sailing on the river. Harriet couldn’t get over the number of activities that were available all week.

The town bustled with life from early morning to late at night. The river, chock-full with boats of all sizes including two tall ships and a naval frigate, was a sight to see, particularly at night when many of the yachts were dressed overall. Harriet couldn’t remember it ever being so crowded.

‘Regatta’s grown so much. We always had the funfair, the slippery pole, crabbing competitions and fireworks, but now there is so much more. As for the street entertainment, it’s amazing.’

‘Think I might take up sailing,’ Frank said, the binoculars now fixed on one particular yacht making its way up river. ‘Looks more exhilarating than golf.’

‘That reminds me. I need to organise getting the old dinghy in the garage checked out so I can teach Ellie to sail,’ Harriet said. ‘Want me to teach you, too?’

‘Not dinghy sailing,’ Frank said. ‘I fancy something bigger. Like that one.’ And he pointed to the sleek thirty footer he’d been concentrating on.

‘Mmm,’ Harriet said. ‘Moorings are hard to come by these days. They’ll have to be quick to pick up their moorings,’ she continued. ‘I think all movement on the river is forbidden while the Red Arrows are doing their display.’

‘How long before they start?’ Ellie asked.

‘About quarter of an hour,’ Harriet said, glancing at her watch. ‘Feels strange being out here with just the three of us waiting. Amy issued an open house invite every year to watch the Red Arrows. This terrace and the garden were always crowded with her friends. Next year I’ll organise a BBQ.’

Hearing her mobile phone inside on the kitchen table give a short ring indicating she had a message, she said, ‘I’ll fetch the jug of Pimms from the fridge and see who that was.’

Harriet read the message from BB and quickly texted a reply before going back out to the terrace. She paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Her heart had always belonged to Dartmouth, to this house even, and right now life was just about perfect.

Ellie was pointing out something to Frank in the magazine she’d been reading and they were both laughing. The two of them had always shared the same sense of humour and could cry with laughter over something that Harriet found only mildly amusing. Both great practical jokers, Harriet had learned early on to be very alert on 1
^st
April, or suffer the consequences. Inevitably, one or the other of them always managed to fool her.

She was so lucky to have met and married Frank. He’d adored Ellie from the beginning. As far as he was concerned, she was his daughter. End off. Nothing had changed for him when she’d announced she needed to find the woman who was effectively her stepmother and learn about Oscar.

‘I wish she didn’t feel the need to do it, but I do understand,’ he’d said. ‘I’m just glad I don’t have to compete with him in person. If he were still alive, I might feel different.’

Struggling with tears Harriet had hugged him. ‘Love you.’

Standing there watching her favourite two people in the world, Harriet sent a silent ‘Thank you’ skywards. Amy had been right to force her to return and live here.

Ellie’s determination to track Vanessa Harford down was difficult to accept, but subconsciously Harriet knew fighting her on the issue was pointless. It was something Ellie had to do, leaving her with no choice but to accept and support.

‘BB has invited us for drinks at seven o’clock on Sunday evening. Wants to celebrate and say thank-you to all his new friends for a great summer,’ Harriet said, moving out onto the patio with the drinks.

‘Me too?’ Ellie said. ‘I don’t really know him.’

‘Of course you’re invited as well,’ Harriet said. ‘Next week we must start organising your birthday do. The 5
^th
of September will be here before we know it.’

‘Listen,’ Frank said. ‘I can hear planes out at sea.’

Seconds later, the nine low-flying small red aircraft of the Red Arrows screamed past them in formation, going up river, and the display started.

Both Ellie and Harriet had their hands over their ears in a futile effort to lessen the incredible sound. The sky was soon riddled with red, white and blue vapour trails as everyone held their breath watching the planes performing a tightly choreographed dance in the sky together before moving apart and doing separate tantalising manoeuvres. One last dip of the wings and they were gone, disappearing seawards as quickly as they arrived.

‘Wow,’ Ellie said. ‘That’s left me on a high – goodness knows how the pilots feel. Should think their adrenaline is off the scale for weeks after a performance like that. At one time I thought two of them were going to clip the tall ships masts, they were flying so low.’ She shook her head. ‘Wow. And wow again.’

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

BB

With an hour to go before his party, BB mentally checked his list, hoping he’d not forgotten anything. Champagne and wine in the fridge – tick. Beer and red wine on the terrace table with glasses – tick. Nibbles consisting of large packets of crisps and tortillas – tick. Cheese and biscuits – tick. Mini pasties – tick. Florentine biscuits to go with the coffee he planned to offer before everyone left – tick.

He hoped everyone he’d invited would come. So many new friends he’d made over the summer months but, having promised Rachel it wouldn’t be a large crowd, he’d tried to keep the guest list small. He guessed there’d never be more than eight or nine of them on the terrace at any given moment during the evening.

Johnnie had phoned to say he’d pop in early while Sabine babysat Carla before going home to let Sabine come. Harriet had said she, Frank and Ellie were looking forward to it. To his delight, Elisabett and Patricia had promised to drive over from Kingsbridge for the evening. BB smiled to himself. Introducing his English relatives to his friends promised to be the crowning event to an exciting few days.

Regatta Week had been amazing. The atmosphere in town, the thrill of crewing on board
Chevalier
in a race where she was placed second overall but first in her class had confirmed she was the boat for him.

Everything was now going ahead for him to buy her. Just a week or two whilst Johnnie helped him sort out the formalities – and he transferred the dollars – and she’d be his.

A knock on the open front door and Johnnie called out, ‘Hello?’

‘Come on through,’ BB shouted.

‘First to arrive, am I?’ Johnnie said. ‘Haven’t yet got used to planning my social life around the demands of Carla.’

‘No worries. We can have a glass of champagne together before everyone arrives. It gives me time to thank you personally for everything this summer.’

As BB poured the drinks, Johnnie noticed a picture postcard of the Scilly Isles propped up on the mantelpiece of the sitting room.

‘Rachel?’ he asked, indicating the card.

‘Yeah. She’s having a great time down on St Mary’s.’

‘Any idea when she’s due back?’

BB shook his head. ‘Not a clue. Ah, Harriet, Frank and Ellie are here. Let’s party.’

Elisabett and Patricia were the next to arrive, followed within minutes by Owen. BB made the introductions with a happy smile on his face.

‘Meet my newly discovered English relatives,’ he said. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to say that. My Dartmouth summer has been just perfect,’ he continued. ‘I’ve found the English Connection and, thanks to Johnnie,’ he raised his glass in Johnnie’s direction. ‘I’ve bought a boat. Mission accomplished.’

Johnnie raised his glass. ‘Cheers to that. Time for me to go home now and for Sabine to party. Bye, everyone. Thanks, BB.’

‘Bye,’ Harriet said absently, looking across the terrace to where Ellie and Patricia were talking together and helping themselves to nibbles. She turned to Frank.

‘Am I imagining it? Do you think there is a certain likeness between those two? I mean I know Patricia is a bit older but … ’ Her voice trailed away as she continued looking. ‘They look so similar to me.’

‘Mmm, they’ve both got the same shaped faces and neither of them are tall,’ Frank said. ‘They’ve both got brown hair too. Maybe that’s what makes them appear alike.’

‘No, it’s more than that,’ Harriet said. ‘I wonder how their connection to BB came about.’

‘Why don’t you ask BB or Elisabett if you’re interested,’ Frank said.

‘I’m probably imagining things that aren’t there but I will later. Oh good. Sabine’s here.’

Once Sabine had a glass of champagne in hand, BB took the three of them across to introduce them to Elisabett and Patricia, who was still talking to Ellie.

‘So pleased you found some relatives,’ Sabine said. ‘Is it a connection to the Holdsworth family like you were hoping?’

BB laughed. ‘You remember our first conversation. No not the Holdsworths. A much more recent connection than that through my Great-uncle Lance.’

‘How come?’ Sabine asked.

‘Operation OverLord down on Slapton beach. He and my granddad were GIs and Uncle Lance met the love of his love before he was killed. One Florrie Widdicombe, the mother of Elisabett.’

‘My father is a Widdicombe,’ Ellie said, unable to contain herself. ‘I wonder if we’re related.’

Elisabett looked at Frank. ‘I thought your name was Lewis. You certainly don’t look like a Widdicombe.’

‘That’s because I’m not,’ Frank said.

‘No, I meant my biological father,’ Ellie said quickly. ‘He was somebody called Oscar Widdicombe. He’s dead now. Maybe we’re related too?’

‘Told you,’ Harriet muttered to Frank. ‘Not just round faces.’

‘I can see more research coming up for everyone,’ Sabine said.

‘Not necessarily,’ Harriet said. She took a deep breath as everyone looked at her.

‘When Oscar and I were planning our wedding, I discovered his grandfather had a sister who had been cut off from the family because of an affair during the war. Her name was Florence Widdicombe. Apparently she was always called Florrie. Oscar and Amy never met her.’

Everybody looked at Harriet in stunned silence for several seconds, before the noise of the front door slamming closed made them all jump.

‘Hi, BB. I’ve come back early especially for your party. Hope there’s still some champagne left,’ and Rachel walked out onto the terrace to join them.

Harriet stared in disbelief at the woman and clutched at Frank’s arm as the words, ‘Vanessa Harford,’ escaped unbidden from her lips and she fainted.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

HARRIET/SABINE

The next morning, as Harriet stacked her breakfast things in the dishwasher and Frank drank his second cup of coffee, Ellie wandered into the kitchen and said, ‘I’m going to visit Vanessa this morning.’