‘I don’t have a problem with that. But how about a text next time? Just to let me know if you’re going to be later. We agreed if you got a mobile phone you would keep in touch.’ Eva wondered how many times she had given the ‘keep in touch’ speech. Even she was fed up with the sound of her own voice saying the same thing over and over.
Their wrestling match now over, Jamie got up from the floor while Hamish, tired out by his exertions, flopped dramatically on the floor.
‘Mum?’ Jamie came and stood beside Eva, almost the same height as her now, his blue eyes fixing her with a challenging stare. ‘Have you thought about it yet?’
Eva’s heart sank. ‘Er, not properly yet.’
‘I need to let them know by next week. All my friends are going; I’ll be the only one not going,’ he pleaded, his face settling into a petulant pout.
‘I know that, but –’
‘Then why can’t I go?’ he demanded.
‘Let me think about it and I promise we’ll talk later, okay?’ She knew she was stalling. But how could she just say yes to a trip that meant her son would be hurling himself off cliffs, diving into water and God knows what else. The weekend trip, organized by his football club, might promise to be a great team-bonding adventure but the very thought of it made Eva come out in a cold sweat. And she wasn’t sure how she would cope with him being away. Apart from the odd sleepover she’d never been separated from him. Eva could almost hear Paul’s voice telling her not to worry, just to relax and let him go. But he wasn’t here now and it was all down to her.
Eva plumped up a pillow, switching to a safer topic. ‘Are you hungry?’ Jamie’s face broke into the cheeky grin she knew so well and Eva felt her heart melt. ‘Why don’t you pick up your things in the hall and go for a shower and I’ll get something ready to eat.’
‘Okay.’ He slouched off but stopped and turned at the door. ‘I meant to say – I saw a light on in Mac’s place when I was coming home.’
Eva nodded. ‘There was a removal van there earlier today. The new people have moved in.’
‘Who will it be?’
Eva smiled at how young he could suddenly sound, as if she would always have the answers. ‘I don’t know. But I guess we’d better stop calling it Mac’s place.’
Eva heard Jamie and Hamish thundering up the stairs as she went into the kitchen to heat the lasagne she had made earlier. Switching on the oven, she wondered how her new neighbours were and hoped everything was going well for whoever it was. After all, she knew how difficult moving day could be.
***
A cold January day, it had snowed the day Eva and Jamie moved in to West Sands guest house. It had been the day her confidence had suddenly crumbled and she questioned whether she could really do this. As she unlocked the door to their new home, Jamie was sobbing miserably with a streaming cold and Eva could have quite easily dissolved into a pool of tears herself. Suddenly it all seemed such a grown-up thing to do, move into a big house and be responsible for it all, not something a twenty-six-year-old widow with a young child could do.
After her husband Paul had died, everyone seemed to have an opinion as to what Eva should now do with her life, not least her mother. Although she had been visibly upset at Paul’s funeral – he was impossible not to like – Eva had sensed a quiet sense of satisfaction from her that it had all gone wrong just as she’d predicted.
She had wasted no time in seizing her chance. ‘Come home, darling. Let me look after you.’ Which in Helen Devine’s language translated to ‘let me take over your life again’. The way she had when Eva lived at home. Sometimes it had felt as if her mother had controlled Eva’s whole life. Suggesting suitable friends, the right clothes to wear, or where to go on holiday.
From the depths of her despair Eva managed to look up just enough to see her mother’s clutches coming towards her and knew she had to act quickly. Her priority was finding somewhere she and Jamie could feel safe and rebuild their lives together. But she also had to think of a way of supporting them in the future.
Randomly searching the internet for property, she stumbled on one for sale in St Andrews already being run as a guest house. Eva remembered one of her favourite childhood games of playing hotels and felt something stir within her. Could she turn that fantasy from all those years ago into a reality? A business that would let her be self-sufficient and be there for her young son – it sounded perfect.
The money from Paul’s life insurance meant she was able to put in an offer and when it was accepted, Eva was elated and horrified all at the same time. Helen’s reaction to her daughter’s idea had been less idealistic. ‘Do you like plunging toilets and cleaning carpet stains?’ she had asked. With her mother’s caustic words ringing in her head, Eva stood in the hall that first day trying to comfort Jamie, terrified she had made a huge mistake. Overwhelmed and exhausted, Eva had a sudden desire to crawl into a warm bed and sleep for a week.
And then out of that dark moment, Moira MacKenzie appeared at the door like a beacon of light, bringing hope – and a pot of home-made soup – to Eva. Wearing layers of bright clothes, her copper-red hair piled haphazardly on top of her head and bangles jangling at her wrists, something about her presence immediately put Eva at ease.
She’d felt guilty for doing it, but it was impossible not to compare Moira to her own mother. Of course Eva knew her mother loved her. But it was a neatly wrapped kind of love that came with air kisses. She wasn’t the type of woman who made you want to lose yourself in a big-bosomed hug the way Moira MacKenzie did.
Moira and her husband Donald were both retired academics and ran a second-hand bookshop in St Andrews. The two women chatted comfortably as Moira helped Eva to unpack and settle Jamie into his new room. Eva wasn’t sure if they would have made it through those first few days without her and had counted her lucky stars a thousand times over the years that the MacKenzies were her neighbours. Kind, caring, and just a tiny bit eccentric. Eva loved them. Although their own children had grown and left, their house was always full of grandchildren and friends coming and going.
Eva’s heart sank the day Moira told her the house had been sold. A few weeks later Eva tearfully waved them off, happy for them but secretly wishing things didn’t have to change. The house had lain empty for a few weeks and it had been difficult to see it sitting silently. It was only then Eva realized just how much she had depended on the MacKenzies’ presence next door. How since they had left, a sense of loneliness seemed to have engulfed her.
***
What kind of an idiot buys a house without seeing it first? An idiot like me, thought Ben Matthews knocking back a couple of painkillers with a mouthful of coffee. Leaning against the window he looked out at the view from his new front living room. In the distance he could see the swell of the dark sea. He ran his hand through his hair, realizing this was going to take some getting used to. The world felt quiet here, so different from the constant noise and buzz of the city.
He had left London ridiculously early this morning. The journey had been long and hard; only the thought of the removal van a couple of hours behind had spurred him on. He had finally arrived in St Andrews in the early afternoon and headed straight to the solicitor’s office where he’d dealt with a barrage of legal documentation and polite questions as quickly as possible. Armed with keys and directions to his new home he drove through the town, only stopping to grab a few groceries. From what he could see, the cobbled streets and historic architecture looked charming and quaint and, more importantly, as different from London as he had hoped.
He found the house easily enough: the last property in a row of impressive Victorian houses facing the beach. He’d climbed out of the car, rolling the tension out of his shoulders as he took in his new surroundings. The house itself sat well back from the road, the front lawn flanked by a gravelled driveway on one side and overgrown flowerbeds on the other.
He