The Little Kiosk By The Sea: A Perfect Summer Beach Read. Jennifer Bohnet

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СКАЧАТЬ take long what I’ve got to say,’ Owen said. ‘Ready?’

      Ten minutes later, with a glass of chardonnay in front of her and a pint of beer in Owen’s hand, Sabine looked at him. ‘Well, what’s this all about, Owen?’

      ‘Will you marry me, Sabine?’

      She shook her head. ‘Sorry.’

      ‘In that case, it’s just two things. Peter and Hutchinson River Trips is the first.’

      Sabine took a sip of her wine and waited. Was he regretting offering Peter a job and wanted out?

      ‘I’ve been talking to the solicitor about Peter inheriting the business.’

      It took a few seconds for his words to sink in.

      ‘You want Peter to have the business? You’re not ill, are you? You don’t look ill but…’

      ‘No I’m not ill,’ Owen said.

      ‘Thank god for that.’

      ‘I just want to get things sorted and Peter’s like the son I’ve never had to me.’

      ‘Does Peter know about this?’

      ‘Not yet. I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any objections. Accuse me of forcing him to stay put before he’s seen the world.’

      ‘He’s a real home bird,’ Sabine said. ‘I can’t see him ever leaving for a life somewhere else. Besides, he loves his life on the river. But what about your dad’s relatives? Surely there’s a cousin or two out Stokenham way who have a claim to the family business?’

      Owen shook his head. ‘No. So what do you think? Good thing or not?’

      ‘I think it’s an incredibly generous action on your part, Owen,’ Sabine said. ‘But I hope he doesn’t get to inherit too soon.’

      ‘So do I, darling, so do I.’ Owen laughed before taking a swig of his beer. ‘Right, I’ll get on to Trevor Bagshawe to do the necessary. Once that’s done, we’ll tell Peter, OK?’

      Sabine nodded. ‘You said there were two things – what’s the second?’

      ‘I’ve been talking to your Johnnie about all the places he’s been. The sights he’s seen. I’ve decided I’ve missed a lot so…’

      ‘You’re going to become a yacht deliverer?’

      ‘No, of course not. At the end of the season I’m off touring Europe for six months.’ Owen looked at her, a serious look on his face.

      ‘Want to come with me? No strings. Just two old friends having an adventure together before it’s too late.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      HARRIET

      Harriet drew up outside The Captain’s Berth with a sigh of relief. She’d made it. The longest drive she’d done on her own for years was finished. All four hours of it.

      To say she’d been nervous when she set off this morning on her marathon journey was an understatement. She’d been close to tears and to forgetting the whole idea. She didn’t have to put herself through the ordeal. She could wait for Frank to return from his unexpected meeting and travel down together like they’d planned. It was only by giving herself a severe talking-to, telling herself to stop being pathetic, that she was a grown woman for goodness sake, that she managed to get in the car. The first thirty miles had tested her willpower to keep going, but once she’d negotiated the traffic-filled motorway junction lanes outside Bristol, she relaxed. Familiar, long-forgotten landmarks began to mark the passage of miles and as she drove down the final miles to the Higher Ferry she smiled, glad she’d decided to come the scenic coastal route rather than inland.

      Harriet fumbled for her keys and handbag before getting out of the car and making for the turquoise front door and raising the highly polished brass knocker.

      ‘Hi. I’m Harriet Lewis. I’ve a room booked,’ she said to the young woman who opened the door.

      ‘Welcome to The Captain’s Berth. I’m Angie. Let me help you with your luggage.’

      Gratefully Harriet handed Angie the larger of the two cases before following her into the house and up the stairs.

      ‘I’ve given you Room Two. It’s the only double at the front with a view of the river. I hope you find it comfortable,’ Angie said. ‘Your husband?’

      ‘Will be joining me later in the week,’ Harriet said. ‘Unexpected business trip.’

      The room, light and airy, looked delightful to Harriet, its cream walls and carpeting a perfect foil for the vibrant floral bed linen and matching curtains. The bed, heaped with cushions, looked inviting and she couldn’t wait to collapse onto it for a restorative nap.

      ‘Tea and scones in ten minutes in the kitchen?’ Angie said. ‘Or would you prefer a tray up here?’

      ‘Could I have a tray up here, please,’ Harriet said, smiling at Angie whom she guessed was in her late twenties to early thirties – about the same age as Ellie her daughter. ‘I’m shattered after my long drive.’ She didn’t feel up to being sociable, answering any questions, one of which she knew would be along the lines of, ‘First-time visitor to the town?’

      ‘No problem. You’ve got tea-making facilities up here,’ Angie said, pointing to the tray on the bedside table. ‘I’ll bring you some scones up.’

      As Angie closed the door behind her, Harriet crossed to the window. The stretch of embankment and river visible to her encompassed the mouth of the river with its twin castles. Still early in the year, there was little activity on the water. The occasional sailing dinghy enjoying the breeze, a fishing trawler returning to harbour, men working on boats moored on the marina pontoons across the river. The few people strolling along the embankment disappeared from view as the road curved fractionally towards the lower ferry and rooftops blocked the view.

      A discreet knock on the door as Angie returned with a tray laden with scones, jam and clotted cream. ‘Enjoy. I’ll see you later.’

      Harriet switched the kettle on before starting to unpack. She hadn’t brought a vast amount of clothes with her and the contents of the larger suitcase were hanging in the wardrobe before the kettle boiled. Unpacking the smaller weekend case could wait. Ten minutes later, sitting on the bentwood chair thoughtfully placed by a small table and enjoying her cream tea, Harriet tried to marshal her thoughts and plans into some sort of order.

      She’d have a shower and then go for a walk, get some fresh air into her lungs.

      The hot water hammering on her body as she stood under the powerful deluge of shower water, eyes closed, was therapeutic. Five minutes later, she stepped out, her tiredness banished. She’d resolved too, to stop thinking about Oscar and the past. Wrapping herself in the large, ultra-soft bath towel she took off the heated towel rail, Harriet picked up her phone.

      She’d give Frank a quick text. If he was out of his meeting she knew he’d СКАЧАТЬ