Summer at West Sands Guest House: A perfect feel good, uplifting romantic comedy. Maggie Conway

that she’d see them later.

      She wandered through the hall and into the front room. The cream walls were bathed in morning sunlight and two large sofas sat either side of a cast-iron fireplace. In one corner a shelved recess held a selection of board games and paperbacks for guests. Molly ran her finger along some of the titles reflecting on how much she liked being here in the guest house. Not just because it was so comfortable and stylish but because of its neutrality after the suffocating atmosphere she’d left behind in her own home. She liked that there were no reminders of Colin or their marriage. She felt free from the confines of her normal life and routines and that suited her. Spotting the title of a book she’d wanted to read for ages she made a mental note to come back for it later. A mug of tea and an early night suddenly sounded very appealing.

      In the kitchen Molly saw the scattered remains of breakfast still in evidence and set about tidying up. She washed down the surfaces, wiping away splodges of jam and puddles of milk and put away a huge box of cereal. Once she had finished tidying, she found a glass and as she filled it with cold water, felt a pang of guilt, hoping Anna wasn’t feeling as bad as she did. She drank thirstily, thinking how much energy it took to have children. Not that she would mind of course. She knew there was a flip side to all the worry and hard work. There was the love and laughter, both things she hoped to have one day. She sighed, rinsing her glass, not prepared to let her thinking go down that route.

      In the meantime, she had the day to herself. The urge to collapse on that lovely squashy sofa was tempting but outside the sunshine beckoned and Molly reckoned a good dose of sea air was just what she needed.

      Within minutes she was walking along the cobbled streets, mingling with families and tourists and enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. The last time she’d been here was as a girl with her parents and now she absorbed her surroundings with new eyes. The quaint, charming town with its eclectic mix of shops and cafés made the city feel a million miles away.

      Out of nowhere Colin zipped into her mind and she wondered what he was doing, if he was happy with his new life. The only communication between them had been the odd email about the divorce proceedings. How formal and final it all sounded.

      She took a deep breath of fresh air, determined not to let thoughts of her ex-husband infiltrate her mind. Instead, she tried to allow a sense of tranquillity wash over her. She was here to think about the future, not the past. For today though, she simply wanted to explore and get a sense of her surroundings.

      Heading towards the water she took a few moments to admire the fine grandeur of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club before continuing through the leafy medieval streets where many of the university buildings were housed. She walked through St Mary’s quadrangle, stopping to read the plaque by the decayed stump of a hawthorn tree which, according to legend, Mary Queen of Scots had planted on one of her many visits to the town. Molly smiled, knowing how much her brother was going to love this. The historical setting would be a dream for him.

      She kept walking, following a path between the golf course and the beach which snaked along the coastline until it eventually started to turn inland. She crossed over a footbridge and then upwards through a wooded glen, pausing at a little burn trickling down the hill.

      Molly enjoyed the peace and let her thoughts wander until she had to stop to catch her breath. Standing with her hands on her hips, she looked back the way she had come and although it afforded her a lovely view of the town, she realised she had walked much further than she had intended. She didn’t suppose the hangover was helping but she couldn’t blame that entirely for her current state which was now decidedly weak and wobbly. There was nothing like a good hike to show how unfit you were, she thought wryly, feeling the full impact of her recent car-reliant existence. With her slightly alarming heart rate and jelly legs, she promised herself there and then to try and improve her fitness.

      Still, the pain was worth it because now she was surrounded by trees and lush greenery. It was so tranquil, almost like being in the middle of an enchanted forest. She was glad of the shade provided by the trees and wished she’d had the sense to bring water with her.

      She noticed a path and, walking towards it, spotted a carved wooden sign announcing The Drumloch Inn lay ahead. Very fortuitously, the sign also indicated food and beverages being served all day. Molly, quite weak with fatigue and dehydration by now, felt herself sag with relief. The thought of a seat and drink sounded heavenly.

      The inn, almost hidden by shrubs and trees, was a charmingly pretty two-storey stone building with wisteria growing up the walls. Baskets spilling over with purple fuchsias graced both sides of the double front door and, as she walked through them, Molly had the sense of being in a rather grand country house.

      Inside, the floor was carpeted in tweed and the walls panelled in dark wood. A large vase of lilies sat on a mantelpiece above an open fireplace and a beautifully ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling.

      Molly approached the small reception desk where a lady sat. Molly placed her to be in her sixties although her stylish bob and immaculate make-up gave her an ageless glamour.

      ‘Good morning, can I help you?’ the lady asked. Her glasses were perched on top of her head, reminding Molly of her own mother and her smile was so warm and genuine Molly immediately felt at ease.

      ‘Hello. I’m not a guest here but is it all right if I sit and have a drink. I saw the sign—’

      ‘Of course!’ the lady gushed. She stood up, knocking a sheaf of papers to the floor.

      ‘Sorry, I’m all fingers and thumbs today. We’ve got a new computer system installed and I’m still working my way through this manual…’ She gestured to the offending documents which she had now retrieved from the floor. Straightening up and looking slightly flustered, she smiled again. ‘Now, where were we? Come with me and I’ll show you where you can have a seat.’

      Molly followed her through to a lounge area of seating in front of arched windows which looked out onto an expanse of rolling greenery. Molly took a seat on one of the sofas, grateful to be off her aching feet and was soon perusing the drinks menu that the lady had given her.

      Molly ran her eye down the selection of drinks on offer, surprised and delighted by the choice; hand-pressed apple juice, traditional ginger beer, elderflower and cucumber or berry and mint refreshers. She eventually decided on a sparkling rhubarb and after a few minutes the lady returned with the drink in a tall glass, served on a little coaster with a serviette.

      Molly took a drink and sat back with a sigh of appreciation. Feeling slightly conspicuous as the solitary customer, she glanced around. Tartan and gingham sofas, comfy chairs and dark wooden tables adorned with small vases of flowers created a relaxed, cosy ambience. There was another fireplace and a small brass-topped bar tucked discreetly in the corner.

      After a while the lady came over to check if Molly needed anything else.

      ‘I’m Judy, the owner here. Do you mind if I join you for a little while?’

      ‘Not at all.’ Molly smiled, indicating the seat beside her. ‘I’m Molly Adams, it’s nice to meet you.’

      The lady eased herself down gracefully onto the seat and Molly instantly sat up straighter.

      ‘How was your drink?’ she asked.

      ‘I really enjoyed it,’ Molly answered truthfully. ‘It was delicious and very refreshing.’

      The lady tilted her head, looking pleased. ‘Thank you. It was one of my creations.’

      ‘You make the drinks yourself?’

      ‘I do. I source all the ingredients locally and then I have great fun concocting all the different flavours up.’

      Molly was impressed.

      ‘I have an excellent local cook who comes in to do the evening meals and breakfast but drinks are my speciality,’ Judy explained. ‘I was a flight attendant and I think all those years serving up drinks to passengers must have rubbed off on me.’

      ‘Well, it was delicious,’ Molly reiterated.