Starting Over in Cariad Cove, page 1
Starting Over in Cariad Cove
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Darcie Boleyn
Copyright
Cover
Table of Contents
Start of Content
For my family, with love always xxx
Chapter 1
Hannah Marlowe pushed her hair off her face and blinked.
What time was it?
The hotel room was flooded with golden July sunlight, the curtains fluttering softly in the breeze, and she could hear birdsong from outside. She reached for her smartphone and saw that it was just after eight, so she closed her eyes and pulled the duvet up to her chin, hoping that she’d drop off again. Unfortunately, her brain had other ideas and after ten minutes of trying to relax, she gave in and sat up.
The room was very pleasant, and from what she’d seen of the rest of the hotel after her arrival last night, the rest of it was too. As a freelance travel writer, she’d stayed in a lot of hotel rooms over the years but not in this part of the world. The Gower Peninsula in West Wales had never really appealed and so she’d jetted off to foreign climes instead, visiting historical landmarks including the Parthenon in Athens, Machu Picchu in Peru, the pyramids in Egypt, and more modern sites like the Grand Canyon Skywalk in Arizona, the Burj Khalifa in Dubai and The Vessel in New York. She liked to get as far away as she could for as long as she could and her contacts in magazines, newspapers and online publications meant that she was able to do so.
Over the years, she’d learnt a few tricks like the importance of selling articles in advance of each trip, landing press trips to destinations where companies wanted publicity and keeping her out-of-pocket travel expenses as low as possible. There were ways to manage expenses and also, whenever things had got tight, Hannah had rolled up her sleeves and worked, whether it was helping with the grape harvest in France, vegetable picking in Zurich or cleaning hotel rooms in Lanzarote. The advantage of working said jobs had given her a wider range of experiences where she got to see the destinations from a different perspective, as well as giving her more to write about. But now, she was in Wales for four weeks spanning the end of July and the beginning of August, courtesy of two online publications who wanted articles on the Summer Festival at Cariad Cove. Initially, these jobs hadn’t been hers and had been commissioned from another writer, but when that writer had fallen pregnant, she’d recommended Hannah as her replacement. The fact that Hannah had a sterling reputation as a reliable writer – who produced good quality articles and met deadlines – meant that the editors didn’t mind the change. Hannah knew she was lucky in that she had regular offers of work and didn’t struggle to make ends meet like some writers did, but then she could jet off at a moment’s notice because of her lack of ties and this worked to her advantage. Plus, her domestic expenses were low and so she spent some of what she earnt on travelling for work and securing more jobs, and the rest went into her ISA to top up the inheritance her mum had left her.
She stood up, stretched, then pulled her green silk kimono on over her short pyjamas. At the window, she pushed open the curtains exposing floor to ceiling windows and her jaw dropped at the view.
‘Bloody hell! It’s gorgeous.’
The hotel was nestled in the cove with cliffs and trees in one direction and the beach spreading out for as far as Hannah could see from her first-floor room. She opened the curtains at the other window and found that it overlooked the hotel grounds and the winding road she’d driven along last night. Everything looked fresh and green and the grounds were bright with a rainbow of summer flowers. An elderly couple were sitting at a table in the grounds having breakfast, the hum of their conversation and the clinking of their cutlery reaching her ears.
She returned to the window with the beach view and gazed out at the sea, following it with her eyes until she reached the cliffs at the far end. If she remembered correctly from what she’d read, the cliffs separated Cariad Cove from Barddoniaeth Bay and when the tide was out, it was possible to walk from one beach to the other. She’d thought that the names were lovely, cariad meaning love and barddoniaeth meaning poetry, and knew that she’d find a way to weave both into her articles along with their meanings and possibly some history too.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday lunchtime. She’d been too tired when she’d arrived last night and declined the night receptionist’s offer to find her some supper. But now she needed to eat, so she’d dress and go down for breakfast before deciding upon her plans for the day.
* * *
‘Please let me put your shoe on, Beti.’ Will Hopkins fought the urge to check the kitchen clock again, knowing that seeing how late he was running wouldn’t help him to get his daughter ready faster.
‘Don’t like them anymore, Daddy. I want new ones.’
Beti folded her arms over her chest and scowled at him. Will had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling. In her blue and white checked summer school dress with her soft brown curls in bunches and her white ankle socks, his daughter was incredibly cute. Too cute for her own good at times because she often ended up getting her own way and Will knew that wasn’t a good life lesson.
‘Beti… we’ve been through this,’ he said, trying to reason with her. He had always tried to appeal to her sense of logic, wanting to treat her with respect and patience, however difficult she was being. Most of the time, he was lucky, and she was happy to get ready in the mornings but some days, like today, she made things challenging. ‘You can have new shoes for September. There are only three days of term left and there’s no point getting new shoes now as you’ll grow out of them.’
Beti sighed then held out her foot. ‘OK go on then. But do you promise, Daddy?’
‘I promise,’ he replied, sliding the black leather shoe onto her foot then fastening the buckle. ‘Right, go and grab your cardigan and I’ll get our packed lunches out of the fridge.’
‘OK, Daddy, did you put my apple in because—’
‘I did!’ He cut her off before she launched into a monologue about what her teacher said about the importance of eating fruit.
‘Good. Miss Dix will be pleased.’
Will listened to Beti climbing the stairs to make sure she was doing as he’d told her then he opened the fridge and reached for the lunch boxes. He loved being a dad but school mornings could be challenging when he used up so much energy, especially when he knew that he had a whole day ahead of him teaching teenagers, so he was glad that the summer holiday was almost upon them.
He got out the lunchboxes – his clear one and Beti’s purple one – and set them on the table then filled their water bottles. Once he’d loaded lunch boxes and bottles into his and Beti’s rucksacks, he checked that he’d turned everything off and went through the hallway to the front door.
‘Beti?’ he called then waited. ‘Are you ready?’
No answer.
‘Beti?’ He looked up the stairs and listened. What on earth was she doing now?
‘Daddy…’ His daughter appeared on the landing, a frown on her face. ‘I had an accident.’
‘What do you mean you had an accident?’ Will dropped the rucksacks and shot up the stairs, his heart hammering with fear. He knelt in front of Beti and cupped her face, staring at the red splotches all over the front of her school dress as cold fear gripped him. ‘What happened? Are you bleeding?’
‘No, Daddy, I wanted to paint my nails to make them more pretty and I spilt the nail varnish on my dress.’ Her eyes widened as if in disbelief at how this terrible thing had come about and Will suppressed a groan.
‘It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re all right,’ he said, as he led Beti to the bathroom. ‘I’ll get you a clean dress and we’ll try to get the nail varnish off this one later.’
‘Yes, Daddy,’ Beti said, ‘I really have no idea how it happened at all.’
Will shook his head. ‘I’m sure you don’t.’
‘We’d better get a move on, Daddy, or we’ll both be late for school.’ Beti gazed up at him, her eyes wide with innocence, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
‘Yes, we better had, and I’m sure Miss Dix won’t care if your nails aren’t painted.’
‘Miss Dix always has painted nails. She’s very pretty. You should marry her, Daddy, and then you’d have a lovely wife.’
‘If only it was that simple.’ Will left Beti in the bathroom while he went to get her another dress. Whenever Beti talked about him getting a girlfriend or getting married, she made it sound so straightforward. He adored her innocence but often felt guilty that she didn’t have a mother around. Didn’t have
Chapter 2
In the dining room of the hotel, Hannah helped herself to some things from the breakfast buffet then she carried her tray outside to the garden where she’d seen the elderly couple sitting earlier. There were other people out there now – all adults, as the schools didn’t officially break up for another few days. Hannah had checked because she wanted to know when the hotel’s busiest times would be.
She’d only come to Wales for the summer festival because an acquaintance she knew from the travel writing circuit had contacted her out of the blue and offered her the jobs and the room that was booked. The woman had confessed that she’d got pregnant on her third round of IVF and wasn’t up to travelling anywhere because her morning sickness was horrendous and her GP had prescribed plenty of rest. Hannah could have declined but she rarely turned her nose up at a job and it was why she’d been so successful over the years. Work came first for Hannah. Then again, she thought wryly, there was nothing else in her life to worry about.
According to the hotel’s website, while the Cariad Cove Hotel itself was popular, the nearby self-catering properties that belonged to the hotel were even more so, as guests could bring their dogs on holiday too. There were six cottages near the hotel and each one accommodated different group sizes. Hannah was impressed by that flexibility and would certainly include details of the other properties in her articles. After all, some people had friends and family to holiday with, as well as dogs, so they’d want to know about the group booking options.
Hannah located a smaller table beneath the shade of a large tree. She placed her tray on the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, then lowered her sunglasses because it was so bright. After she’d poured herself a cup of tea from the pot, she buttered her freshly baked croissant and sat back to enjoy the ambience. Eating inside this morning would have seemed like a waste when it was so beautiful out here. She snapped a few photographs of her breakfast on her smartphone, having left her Nikon D5600 in her room, then put it on the table face down. She’d filled a bowl with fresh berries and yogurt but she’d eat her croissant first while it was still warm.
As she bit into the buttery pastry, she looked around. The elderly couple from earlier had gone but there were two couples who looked like they were in their late twenties or early thirties, and two women who Hannah estimated to be around forty. Estimate was all she could do though because these days, she often found it hard to guess people’s ages. Genetics and lifestyle played big parts in how someone aged and she often got it wrong. She had no idea if she looked thirty or if she appeared older or younger. When she’d been in her early twenties, she was always asked for ID when buying alcohol, but that had worn off in more recent years. It was funny, she thought, that when she was younger it had irritated her while now she’d have found being asked for ID flattering. Perhaps the fact that she never was asked anymore meant that she did actually look older than she was. Not that she minded that much because as far as she was concerned, ageing was a gift that not all people got to enjoy.
Like her mum, for instance.
The croissant suddenly seemed dry in her mouth, so she took a sip of tea then swallowed it down. She put the rest of the croissant on the plate and cradled her cup between two hands. Twenty years had passed since she lost her mum and yet it still got to her at times. She was able to keep busy and push it from her mind most of the time but occasionally, it hit her like a wave that stole her breath, the fact that her mum would never again share breakfast with Hannah, swim in the sea or walk along a sandy beach. It didn’t seem right; was incredibly unfair, and all because of a bloody horrible disease. A disease that terrified Hannah and that kept her vigilant in getting her own regular health checks – even though she sometimes felt that she’d rather not know. She could still remember her mum crying as she lay in the hospice, telling Hannah that she was afraid of leaving her all alone, that she wasn’t ready to go.
Hannah shook herself inwardly. It was a long time ago and she’d managed, had made something of herself and she was doing her best to grab hold of life with both hands. Well, some areas of life anyway. That was what she was supposed to do in honour of her mum. She was trying…
She picked up the bowl of fruit and yogurt and gazed out at the beach where the sea was lapping at the shore and where a dog raced up and down as its owner threw a ball. If she didn’t travel so much, she’d love to get a dog, but right now it just wouldn’t be fair to leave one behind so often. She didn’t have a home of her own, and over the years she’d stayed in a series of short-term lets in Watford. None of the furniture was hers and she had few belongings, not seeing the point in accumulating things she would have to keep packing up when she moved on. She’d leave all that until she had a home of her own. If she ever got a home of her own. Sitting still left her too much time to think but travelling kept her busy, focused on the moment and the experience. It had been that way for the past decade and she suspected it would be the same for another ten years or more because she couldn’t imagine living her life any other way.
At least, that’s what she told herself when any doubts or the longing for a place to call home crept in. What was the point in wanting what she couldn’t have?
* * *
‘Morning all right, was it?’
Will looked up from the book he was marking to find his colleague and friend, Joe Thomas, standing in the doorway to his classroom.
‘Hey Joe. Not too bad, thanks.’
Joe entered the classroom and rested against a desk near to Will’s. ‘You look tired, Will. Beti giving you a hard time?’
Will put his red pen down and sat back in his chair. ‘When isn’t she?’ He laughed to show he was joking. ‘I have no idea how I’m going to keep her occupied for a whole summer. She likes to be constantly busy, which is great, of course, but some days I’d like to go at a slower pace. Even just one day a week. Perhaps have a lie in and drink my tea while it’s still hot.’
‘I don’t know how you do it.’ Joe shook his head then rubbed a hand over his cropped blond hair. ‘You’re a real hero.’
‘I’m just a single parent. Other people do it all the time and don’t complain.’ He winced. ‘Sorry… I don’t mean to complain at all. I love Beti and she’s the most important person in my life, but I do worry about being enough for her. That she might be missing out, you know?’
‘You’re the best parent she could have.’ Joe smiled. ‘Stop beating yourself up. You’re doing an amazing job and Beti is very lucky. Some kids don’t even see their dads… look at some of the ones we teach.’
‘I know. Some have it tougher than others.’ He thought of his parents and how they’d always been there for him and for Beti, about how his older sister, Alice, had been a rock for him. ‘Beti does have my family too so I’m sure that helps balance things out a bit.’
‘Beti is a bright and bubbly child and she’ll go far in life. In fact, after seeing her kick a ball at the beach recently, it’s possible that she’ll be a footballer. It seems that her strategy of taking down the players of the opposing team is quite successful… if a bit… scary.’
Joe laughed but Will flinched at the memory. He’d taken Beti down to Cariad Cove a few weeks ago and Joe had been there walking his giant rescue dog, Odin. Will had a football with him and Beti had insisted on showing Joe her best penalty shot. However, she’d also insisted that Joe be in goal, which consisted of Will’s trainers set on the sand a few feet apart. Joe had agreed, clearly thinking it was all a harmless game, but he hadn’t bargained on Beti having a strong kick that sent the ball right towards Joe and hit him in the crotch. He’d fallen to the sand clutching his groin while Odin had seized the ball and run off, Beti jumping up and down cheering the whole time. It would’ve been funny if Joe hadn’t been in so much pain.
‘I think we’ll keep her away from football for now. I can’t afford to be at the mercy of her… goals.’ Will rubbed at his eyes and stifled a yawn.
‘Three days, buddy, and you’ll get a break from this place.’
