Eva had exchanged emails with both guests, one male and one female, so she was able to deduce when she opened the door to a lady it was Miss Havers who had travelled from York. She carried a pile of books under one arm and a canvas bag in the other. In her sixties Eva guessed, with grey hair tucked behind her ears and rimless round glasses. She had a distracted air as if she was trying to remember something.
Eva had ushered her in out of the rain and showed her to her room, deciding to give her the front room that Sarah had recently vacated. Eva made sure she had everything she needed and Miss Havers had made it clear she was quite happy to be left alone.
‘You all right, Mum?’ Jamie broke into her reverie. ‘You don’t look so good.’
Eva knew she must look pretty awful to warrant a comment from her son. ‘I’m fine, just tired, that’s all. How’s your macaroni?’
‘Awesome.’ He smiled with a nod of his head. Eva tilted her head, hearing sounds at the front door.
‘That’ll be our next guest,’ she said to Jamie. ‘Can you stay here with Hamish? I’ll go and see to them.’
Eva pasted her best smile in place and swung opened the door. ‘Good evening,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Welcome to West Sands guest house. You must be Mr Hargreaves?’
‘Doctor Hargreaves actually,’ Eva heard him mutter as he marched through the door carrying with him a briefcase, a wet umbrella, and a sense of entitlement. Over the years, Eva had learned to recognize problem guests. Thankfully, they were few and far between. Most of her guests were lovely, simply looking to relax, enjoy one or two nights away from home. But every now and then there was someone intent on never being happy. You could almost sense it – a look of derision that said nothing you do will be good enough.
At first Eva had agonized over these people, thinking it was something she was doing wrong. But time had taught her there was no pleasing some people and so it was with a sense of gloom that she now identified this guest as one of those people.
‘I’m terribly sorry, Doctor Hargreaves. How was your journey?’
‘A nightmare. I really don’t know what’s wrong with this country – why is it you can’t travel from one place to the other without encountering some form of roadworks?’
Eva tutted sympathetically. ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry you’ve not had a good journey.’
‘And the blasted rain hasn’t stopped for hours.’ He shook his wet coat, clearly irritated by the weather too. Eva hung up his coat and asked him to sign a confirmation sheet with his details and located the keys for his room before leading the way upstairs. His beady little eyes darted about like a bird’s as if he was looking for something.
‘Do you do food?’
‘We only serve breakfast but I can recommend a good choice of restaurants, which are all very near. I can let you see some of their menus if you wish.’
‘I can assure you I am not going back out in that rain.’
Eva knew her job was to soothe the harassed traveller but she was pretty certain even if his journey and the weather had been perfect, Doctor Hargreaves would still find something to complain about.
‘Your room does have tea and coffee making facilities,’ she said politely pointing to the kettle and china cups on the table. Eva had also left a welcome tray with some fresh fruit and shortbread biscuits. ‘Your room has colour TV and there’s a CD/radio alarm. I’m usually about but my mobile number is on the information sheet if you need anything –’
Eva wasn’t sure how it happened but Hamish appeared out of nowhere, charged into the room, and took a flying leap on to the bed. Dr Hargreaves’s face turned puce and Eva thought for one terrible moment he was going to have a seizure of some sort.
‘Hamish! Off now! I’m so sorry.’ Eva hauled Hamish off the bed.
‘You – you have a dog in here?’ he said in horror. A sudden terrible thought dawned on Eva.
‘You’re not allergic, are you?’
‘What? No,’ he replied gruffly. ‘But I can’t stand dogs, especially in a bedroom.’
‘Of course, I’m so sorry. He’s a family pet and this should never have happened. He won’t bother you again I can assure you.’ Oh dear, this was not going well. ‘Come on, boy, out of here.’ Eva gently shoved him out into the hall, trying to think of a way to compensate Dr Hargreaves for his upset. Inspiration came to Eva in the form of food.
‘I’m so sorry again. Seeing as it’s just a terrible night and you don’t want to go back out, please let me bring some food to your room, as a way of apology. I have home-made soup and bread and some local cheese if that’s acceptable?’
‘Very well,’ he harrumphed turning his back on her.
Eva found Jamie looking sheepish in his bedroom with an equally guilty-looking Hamish sitting beside him. ‘How did that happen?’ she snapped. ‘Actually, you know what, don’t tell me.’ Now wasn’t the time for a cross-examination about how Hamish ended up in a guest’s room – that was a conversation for another time. ‘Hamish hasn’t been out for a walk today. Can you take him out now please while I make some food and get the guest settled?’
‘Yeah, all right. Come on, boy,’ Jamie agreed, knowing Eva’s tone wasn’t one to be argued with.
In the kitchen, Eva took a deep breath and set about heating some home-made soup and defrosting bread she had in the freezer. She had discovered the joys of making bread shortly after she’d moved to St Andrews. There was nothing like the aroma of freshly baked bread drifting through the house and her guests seem to love it. She heard Jamie leave by the front door as she started to assemble a tray with the improvised meal for Dr Hargreaves.
With the bread defrosted, Eva began to cut slices of cheese, wondering if she had a temperature. The pain in her head had intensified and she was feeling distinctly hot and bothered. A gust of wind rattling against the window made her jump. She lost concentration for a split second and the knife slipped in her hand, slashing across her finger. Damn! She didn’t need to look to know it was a deep cut.
She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea hit her. She quickly grabbed a tissue, wrapped it round the wound, and fetched the first-aid box. She dressed the wound, washed her hands, and hurried upstairs with the tray before Dr Hargreaves wondered where she had got to.
***
The captain of Ben’s flight back to Edinburgh had just warned passengers to expect a bumpy landing due to high winds. Ben didn’t care if the plane flew backwards just as long they landed and the sooner the better. An urgency to see Eva consumed him. He needed to speak to her, to hold her. He wanted to hear all about Jamie’s trip. He smiled thinking how happy she would be to have him home.
As the plane began its descent through the thick blanket of grey cloud, Ben reflected on the last two days. It had been busy and painful at times, but now his sense of relief was palpable.
The hardest part had been taking that first step into the house again. The memory of the day he had led his mother out of the house to take her to the care home was as crushingly painful as ever. All the years she had lovingly looked after Ben, now in a cruel reversal of roles it was her trusting him. He didn’t know exactly what her brain was able to compute – it seemed to change every day – but he hoped with all his heart she didn’t realize he was taking her to a place full of strangers to care for her.
The house had looked more or less the same when he walked in. Everything was neat and tidy, but tired and worn-looking. Before the tenants had moved in Ben had decluttered the house, leaving only the large pieces of furniture. He’d taken a few bits and pieces and personal items but everything else was stored in the attic.
He’d walked from room to room and at first the rush of memories had overwhelmed him. But instead of blocking them as he’d