The Secret To Happiness. Jessica Redland

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      2

      Danniella

      Danniella crept down the stairs of Sunny Dayz Guest House, eyes fixed on the front door, ready to sprint back upstairs if necessary. Pulling her loose dark cardigan across her slender frame, she peeked around the corner into the spacious dining room. Seated in the bay window were the elderly couple from Liverpool who stunk the place out with their daily kippers. At the other end, a woman in her mid-twenties tucked into a bowl of cereal while a toddler mashed banana into a highchair food tray.

      Releasing the breath she’d been holding, Danniella tucked her dark brown bobbed hair behind her ears and tiptoed across the room towards her favourite table by the fire exit.

      The proprietor, Lorraine, burst through the door from the kitchen, holding a cafetière. A curvaceous woman in her mid-fifties, she beamed at Danniella as she poured the coffee. ‘Have you seen that gorgeous sunshine, my dear? I was beginning to think the rain was never going to stop. I was just saying to my Nigel last night that we might have to start building an ark.’ She giggled at her own joke.

      Danniella smiled politely. ‘Can I have some wholemeal toast, please?’

      ‘There’s nothing on you, my dear. Are you sure I can’t tempt you with something more substantial? A poached egg, perhaps? Some beans?’

      ‘Just the toast, thanks.’

      ‘As you wish.’

      Danniella pulled her cardigan across her chest again and closed her eyes for a moment, biting her lip. Poor Lorraine. Every morning she tried her best to open up a conversation only to be cut off. Danniella hated being aloof towards such an affable woman, but she had to maintain that distance. If she didn’t, there’d be questions and she couldn’t go there. Not yet. Possibly never.

      Opening her eyes again, she spied a copy of Bay News abandoned on the next table and flicked to the properties section.

      Lorraine re-appeared and placed a rack over-loaded with triangles of thick toast on the table. ‘Enjoy your breakfast, my dear.’

      ‘Thank you.’ If Danniella managed to get half a slice down her throat, she’d be doing well. She pushed the paper aside, selected a triangle, then froze, heart thumping, at the creak of the front door opening. Straining to listen, she could make out heavy footsteps in the lobby.

      ‘Delivery for Lorraine Thorpe,’ called a woman’s voice, and Danniella breathed again. Every morning. Every single morning. She couldn’t go on like this.

      After buttering the toast, Danniella took a bite, but it felt like gravel scraping down her throat. She managed about two-thirds before giving up and picking up the paper again.

      The woman with the toddler left, followed soon after by the kipper couple.

      ‘The property section, eh?’ Lorraine asked as she cleared the vacated tables. ‘Buying, renting or browsing?’

      ‘Renting, hopefully.’ Sod it. She could talk about flat-hunting and, if that led to questions about the past, she’d simply make an excuse to leave. ‘It’s not going very well. Apparently, I’m being too fussy.’

      ‘Who says?’

      ‘Estate agents.’

      Lorraine stopped stacking pots. ‘What are you looking for?’

      ‘Only three things and one of those is negotiable.’ Danniella counted her needs off on her fingers. ‘One- or two-bed flat. Not ground floor. Ideally with a sea view. One of the agents actually laughed at me. Turns out it’s more lucrative to rent to tourists for part of the year than a longer-term let. Who knew?’

      ‘How long a lease are you wanting?’

      Until my past catches up with me. Danniella’s insides twisted. ‘Three months initially. Hopefully longer.’

      Lorraine picked up the pots. ‘I’ve got an idea. Give me five minutes.’

      Sipping on her coffee, Danniella leaned back and gazed round the empty dining room. Lorraine seemed to have taken the cringe-worthy seventies-throwback name ‘Sunny Dayz’ as licence to go crazy with the colour yellow. White and yellow gingham cloths adorned the tables, the crockery was bright yellow, and the walls were pale lemon. Danniella’s tastes were neutral and minimalist, but there was something about the explosion of colour in Sunny Dayz that lifted her dark mood each morning and gave her the much-needed strength to face the day. After eight months of running, she felt so lost, so lonely, so weary. There was also something about Whitsborough Bay that felt safe and she really hoped this was the place where she could start afresh. But she’d experienced that before, in other towns, and had ended up moving on.

      Lorraine bustled back into the dining room. ‘Are you free at eleven?’

      ‘I can be.’

      ‘My son, Aidan, has a top-floor flat to rent on Sea View Drive, overlooking North Bay. I think you’ll love it.’