“Well, he was… erm… a little disturbed, I think because I was later than he expected.”

“Oh dear, I’m sorry. He’s my brother and we run the place together. My hubby died a while ago and I moved back here. The farm was my dad’s and it’s Jim’s really now and I just run the guest side of things and the vegetable shop.”

“Oh it’s okay, it had been a funny day anyway and he wasn’t rude.” With her tongue firmly in her cheek Pauline had decided she liked this woman and didn’t want to embarrass her. After all the strange welcome had in the end lifted her mood.

“Well, if you need anything just let me know and if you do speak to Jim just take him as you find him. He’s as good as gold really.”

“You don’t have as strong an accent as your brother.”

“No, I lived near London while I was married. I taught up there, it’s nice to be back though.”

Pauline clattered round the kitchen filling the kettle and searching for cups and coffee. When the drink was made Dolly opened the back door.

“It’s a lovely morning, do you mind if we sit out here. There’s a little table and we can watch the water. I did miss it when I was away and I can sit and watch it for hours.”

“Oh, yes that would be lovely. Can I book for an extra time, maybe another ten days on top of the week I already paid for?”

“Yes, I should think that’s fine. I’ll check the book and if there’s a problem I’ll let you know. Have you got your mobile number?”

“Oh, crikey. Yes, that was one of the things that happened yesterday you see. I lost my phone,” (Another lie joined the tangle and already this new relationship was tinged with small guilt) “I’ll have to order one, the booking form said you have WiFi… is that right?”

“Yes, you should be able to get a signal in any room and even out here if you’re in luck. I can pop back if there’s a problem; otherwise I’ll make the booking. Anyway, I’ll leave you to get on. I hope you have a nice stay and anything you need just let us know. Are you a writer or a painter or…”

“No, no. Why do you ask?”

“Oh it’s just that usually people who come on their own, they’re arty types wanting peace to work. It’s none of my business of course but I just wondered you know.”

“Oh I see. No, I’ve been through a bit of a stressful time and I just thought a break would do me good; you know, a change of scene. I’m used to being on my own.” As she said it Pauline didn’t feel the little tug of guilt; this at least wasn’t entirely a lie, as she felt that she had in an emotional sense been on her own for years. She had always hidden the problems of her marriage, even from her friends. She had felt so lonely for so long, even when George was in the room with her, because there was such a chasm of dislike and distrust between them that was impossible to bridge.

Dolly, perhaps noticing that Pauline was rather distracted by her thoughts, quietly took her cup back into the kitchen. “You sit there and enjoy the sun my dear, I’ll let myself out.” And with a flap of her hand to wave goodbye she was gone. Pauline leaned back against the wooden bench and watched the gulls follow a fishing boat, diving into the white wake and screaming with excitement in the clear morning.

Chapter 7

First things first. Pauline logged on with her Macbook and ordered a new phone. Then she picked out some clothes. What she had managed to bring with her would do for a few days but now she had achieved the first part of the journey she would be able to handle more luggage. Her wardrobes had been full but she wanted none of the wrappings of that downtrodden and lonely woman. She felt no regret for leaving behind her the soft armour of gowns worn to events she had never enjoyed. Nor for the sweaters and skirts with invisible stains of violence and hurt which were gone from the fabric but still vivid in her mind.

After toast and more coffee while she surfed and shopped she left the cottage and headed down the narrow road towards the village. The embankments were high and overgrown with tall grasses and wildflowers. The dopey murmur of bees and the zip of smaller insects filled her ears and the frantic scuttering as smaller creatures fled punctuated the regular slap, slap of her shoes on the hot tarmac. Once or twice she had to make sure she walked very close to the bank to avoid oncoming traffic and she found herself wondering how the injured rider was doing back in the hospital.

She bought some bits and pieces at the little supermarket and with a quiet chuckle picked up a couple of bottles of wine from their small selection, after all every bugger wants wine, don’t they?

As is the way of these things the walk back seemed shorter and in little more than an hour she was back in the garden drinking cold orange juice and clicking through the online editions of the papers. At first she found nothing and assumed that no news was good news. Surely if the man were dead it would be mentioned somewhere and then she spotted a tiny article. It reported simply that ‘yet another’ sheep related accident had put a motorbike rider in hospital and posed the question, ‘When was something going to be done about the animals wandering loose along the roadsides?’ The rider wasn’t identified and when the article was published he was simply in hospital in a serious condition. So, not dead then. Well, not at eight thirty that morning, but it still didn’t sound good. No matter; even if the police did try to find her again she was sure that the obfuscation had been enough to cover her tracks.

The endless blue of sky and sea curved in a great arc before her. Warm sun stroked her shoulders, easing the tension and smoothing away the worry. The drama of yesterday was a world and a lifetime since and she would let it go…

The narrow road beyond the farm was dusty with a messy mixture of earth and sharp sand. Pauline followed in the footsteps of the small caravan of holiday makers who trod this way most of the morning. The dunes seemed higher now she was amongst them. The long grass whispered and sang and called her on towards the louder melody of the ocean and then there it was. Dancing white waves and heaving billows of deep blue and sapphire and violet. She paused and gloried in the vision. Wind whipped and pulled at her hair. Sounds of children and gulls were whisked past her ears and on and away into the ether. She filled her lungs and eyes with it and let her mind whirl into the past, when the beach meant nothing but pleasure; sun tightened skin and the cold shock of a run through breaking surf.

Slipping and slithering she came through the dunes and onto the light sand and then the line of pebbles at the tide line. She slipped off her sandals and felt the squidge of sandy mud between her toes and she grinned. This was truly wonderful. George had never liked the beach and after several tries early in their marriage she had given up the fight and now realised just how much she had missed this wild, warm, wonderful world.

A tiny recess in the rocks offered shelter and she leaned against the warm hardness and shuffled her bottom into a comfortable place. She heaved a great sigh. The distant sounds of pleasure tickled at the edges of hearing and the soughing of the vegetation in the dunes was mesmerising. She laid her head back against the stone and closed her eyes.

Drifting and drowsing she started visibly when a quiet voice invaded her peace. “Penny for your thoughts? They must be nice if the expression on your face is anything to go by!”

“Oh, Dolly! Hello!”

“Sorry if I disturbed you.”

“No, it’s fine. I was almost asleep and that wouldn’t be a good idea really. I haven’t put on any sunscreen yet. I hate the stickiness.”

“Yes, me too, but they tell us we have to do it don’t they? I saw you there and thought I’d just pop up and let you know I booked you in for the extra time and I’ll be in tomorrow morning to tidy for you.”