Rick was effectively holding up a mirror to Martha, and she didn’t much like what she saw reflected back at her.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Two days after the weekend of the fête and when Naomi had broken the news to Martha and Willow that she was going to marry Ellis, he received a text from Lucas saying he would be in London on business that coming Friday.

In a flurry of messages, Lucas told Ellis that there was no need to meet him at Heathrow, he’d jump on the Express and go straight into London for the meetings he was flying over for. He would then hire a car and drive down to Tilsham. Ellis chose not to say anything about his own news, other than to mention that he had something to discuss with Lucas. As was typical of Lucas, he didn’t press for any further information.

Now, and after nearly a year of not seeing each other, Lucas was upstairs in the guest bedroom at Waterside Cottage changing out of the smart jacket, open-necked shirt and chinos he’d arrived in. Downstairs, and as per Lucas’s request, Ellis was making a pot of ‘bog-standard tea’. Apparently, this was one of the few things he missed from England. That and Cadbury’s chocolate and Mr Kipling’s cherry Bakewell tarts, which Ellis had been quick to buy in readiness for his visit.

‘It’s a great little place you have here,’ Lucas said, coming into the kitchen. He was now dressed in jeans and a Final Fantasy T-shirt; his feet were bare. Funny how he’d always been like that, kicking off his shoes at the first opportunity and leaving his socks in the oddest places. It used to drive his mother crazy looking for where he’d put them. ‘For the love of God, just put them in the laundry basket, that’s all I ask!’ she would say. In the end she gave up and left him to go sockless or wear unmatched pairs.

‘I was lucky the cottage became available when it did,’ Ellis said. ‘I thought we could have tea in the garden. That okay with you?’

Lucas nodded and followed him outside where Ellis had already put the tray of tea things on the wrought iron table.

‘It doesn’t get more English than this, does it?’ Lucas remarked after he’d stood for a while to take in the view of the beach. ‘Even the sound of seagulls and the smell of seaweed lives up to expectation.’

‘It probably feels a bit tame compared to what you’re now used to, doesn’t it?’

Lucas turned around and came and sat down. ‘Not really. Everywhere has its own particular quality and charm.’ He drank some of his tea, followed by a bite of cherry Bakewell, nearly polishing it off in one go.

‘How’s Gran?’ he then asked.

‘I’m sorry to say she’s growing frailer by the day, but when I told her you’d be visiting, she immediately bucked up and started talking about having her hair done. She always asks after you. Never fails.’