Coming Home to Ottercombe Bay: The laugh out loud romantic comedy of the year. Bella Osborne

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СКАЧАТЬ Tamsyn following dutifully, a lot like it had been when they were children. Up ahead Daisy caught a glimpse of the sea – the dark blue smudge expanding as she neared the headland. The perfect crescent of Ottercombe Bay came into view on Daisy’s left side. From her high vantage point she had a good view of the divide that had existed in the bay for almost a hundred years; on one side of the beach were rows and rows of fishing boats of varying shapes and sizes and on the other a multitude of deckchairs, picnic rugs and tourists. The occasional shout of a child drifted up to her before ebbing away but otherwise it was peaceful high up on the cliff top.

      As the sea breeze caressed Daisy’s senses she started to feel calmer and some of the frustration at having her escape plans interrupted diminished. She could smell the sea, the fresh scent quite like no other which reminded her of the summers she had returned to the bay with her father, year after year until he could bear it no more. For Daisy returning to the bay meant being reunited with her sadness but when they left there had also been the ache of being ripped away from everything familiar.

      They walked to the far end of the headland; the tip of the crescent on one side of the bay. Daisy took off her leather jacket, laid it on the ground and she and Tamsyn flopped down on it.

      ‘I love this view,’ said Tamsyn at last. Daisy was amazed she’d managed to keep quiet this long.

      ‘Me too.’ She had forgotten how much she loved it. Pictures of the picnics she had had there as a child swam in her mind’s eye. Her mother and father dancing while she giggled and snuck an extra biscuit. The sun shining down on them whilst the sea beat a steady rhythm below – they were happy times. Her parents had loved this spot too it seemed, as it was somewhere they had come regularly. Daisy ran her fingers through the grass and wondered if her mother had sat on that spot and done the same thing; it felt likely. A familiar sense of loss pulled at her gut. Daisy was reminded of why she was here. ‘Is your mum some sort of psychic?’ she asked.

      Tamsyn dragged her eyes away from the sea. ‘Not officially, but she’s always had these sensations and thoughts that weren’t her own. My dad calls it a load of witpot but I think there’s something in it.’

      ‘What makes you think there is?’ Daisy turned to gauge her reaction.

      Tamsyn tipped back her head and stared into the cloudless sky. ‘Because she never lies. I mean like never – she can’t even tell a white lie. If I ask her “Do you like my hair up?” she’ll just go “No, it looks better down.” She never lies. So when she says things about people who have passed then I have to believe that too, don’t I?’

      Daisy wasn’t convinced. ‘Who else has she had messages from?’

      ‘They’re not strictly messages,’ said Tamsyn, bringing her gaze back to earth. ‘She was in the paper shop a couple of months ago and Mrs Robinson was blathering on about gardening, like she does, and my mum had this thought about Mrs Robinson’s dad being unwell. Now she doesn’t know him but she says “How’s your dad?” and Mrs Robinson says “He’s fine”.’

      Daisy pulled a strained face. ‘If he was fine then—’

      ‘Ah, that’s the thing. Mrs Robinson called round on the way home and her Dad was dead in the armchair.’ Tamsyn lay back on the jacket.

      Daisy gave a pout and let out a slow breath. This wasn’t exactly the cold hard proof she was hoping for. ‘What exactly was the message or whatever it was she had about my mum again?’

      ‘She was in our garden and she rushed inside saying she felt cold and to be honest of late she’s only been overheating. Dad says she’s about the right age for the change. She told me she had a sense of Sandy being with her. She couldn’t see her or anything. Do you think she’s bonkers too?’ Tamsyn sat up abruptly and eyeballed Daisy.

      ‘No, she was always lovely your mum, she used to make me laugh. I don’t think she’s bonkers.’ Daisy remembered a kind woman with a wicked sense of humour. But whilst she had seemed nice that didn’t add any weight to her credibility as a conduit to the afterlife.

      ‘Why are mad people called bonkers and not people who bonk?’ Tamsyn, asked, looking at Daisy as if she was expecting her to provide a sensible answer.

      ‘Erm, I don’t know, Tams. Our language is weird.’

      ‘It is. Phrases confuse me too. Why do people say, “You can’t have your cake and eat it”? What else are you going to do with cake?’

      Daisy laughed. ‘Very good point.’ Tamsyn had a way of putting you at ease and taking your brain off on an unexpected tangent so you forgot about all the serious stuff.

      ‘Why were you leaving?’ asked Tamsyn, plucking a daisy and tucking it behind her ear.

      Daisy thought for a moment. ‘Because Great Uncle Reg is trying to make me stay.’

      Tamsyn looked excited. ‘Did you get a message from beyond the grave?’

      Daisy sighed. ‘Sort of. He left me some old railway station in his will and said I had to stay here for a whole year to get it.’

      Tamsyn sat up poker straight. ‘He left you a railway station? What like Exeter or Marylebone?’

      Daisy laughed. ‘No, the derelict one for Ottercombe Bay.’

      Tamsyn startled Daisy by starting to clap her hands together in front of her as if she was doing a sea lion impression. ‘Wow, this is amazing. That is the cutest building ever.’ Daisy raised a doubtful eyebrow. ‘Seriously, it’s beautiful. I mean it’s all boarded up and has been for years but … this is so exciting!’ She let out a tiny squeal and Daisy couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. ‘And he wants you to stay here for one whole year?’ Daisy nodded forlornly. ‘I love that man.’ She threw her arms around Daisy and hugged her tight. She pulled away and her grin faded. ‘Please say you’re staying.’

      Daisy gave a tiny shake of the head. ‘I don’t think so, Tams. I’ve not stayed in the same place for a whole year since …’ She had to think about the answer. ‘University I guess and then I was only there in term time.’

      ‘One year will go quickly and at the end of it you’ll own your own railway station. Which is totally amazing.’ Tamsyn made a noise like a train and Daisy chuckled. ‘You have to stay. You really do.’ Tamsyn clutched Daisy’s hand tightly and looked hopefully into her eyes. ‘It’s like you’ve been set a quest and you can’t say no to a quest.’

      ‘A quest?’ Daisy blinked hard. ‘This isn’t medieval times.’

      Tamsyn bent forward. ‘No, but I love reading fantasy novels and usually there’s a quest for the main character and it’s dangerous but they always succeed in the end and live happily ever after. This is your quest and your happily ever after could be at the end of it.’

      Daisy laughed until she noticed Tamsyn was deadly serious. She didn’t believe in happy-ever-afters but she wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge.

      Daisy hugged her knees, stared out across Ottercombe Bay and thought. ‘We’d best take a look at the place before I make any rash decisions,’ she said, but before she’d finished the sentence Tamsyn was dragging her unceremoniously to her feet.

      In front of her was an odd sight. It was a single-storey ornate building sat on its own with a railway platform and portion of train track in front of it. Daisy stood with СКАЧАТЬ