Summer at Lavender Bay. Sarah Bennett

some left.’ He turned around to show the tub of brightly striped ice cream. Neapolitan had always been his and Jason’s favourite, and they’d passed their love down to Noah. ‘What do you say, Nanna? Has Noah earned an after-dinner treat?’

      Smiling fondly, Sally nodded her head. ‘I should say so! Can you give a hand with this, Jack?’

      He put the ice cream back, then took the oven gloves his mum held out to him and transferred the bubbling pot of stew from the cooker top to the thick cork mat on the table. Removing the lid sent a waft of delicious steam teasing his nose. ‘This smells amazing.’ His mum took her seat with a smile and the three of them settled down to enjoy a delicious family supper. Jack glanced from his mum to his nephew, filled with love and pride for both of them. In spite of the horror of their loss, their little family was pulling together.

      It would be getting busy around the place soon and he’d have even less time to spend with Noah, best to make the most of it while he could. ‘How about we walk to school tomorrow, Noah?’ Even with Noah’s shorter legs it wouldn’t be more than half an hour from the farm into Lavender Bay, and it was all downhill. The exercise would do them both good and would also give him the chance to give Noah his undivided attention. ‘If we get up a little bit earlier, we can take Bastian down to the beach to play. Would you like that?’

      When Noah beamed at him, Jack knew he’d made the right call. The feeling of contentment stayed with him through Noah’s bedtime routine, Jack’s late evening walk with Bastian and on until he’d managed to read about five pages of the paperback thriller on his nightstand before his eyelids were drooping. We made it through another day, was his final sleepy thought as he turned out the light.

      The screams from Noah’s room jerked him awake at 2 a.m.

       Chapter Three

      Libby Stone came bursting into Eliza’s old bedroom, a bottle of wine in one hand and a white carrier bag in the other. ‘I bought emergency supplies,’ she said, brandishing both. She stopped in her tracks, dropping to sit on the edge of the bed and when she spoke again, her voice was much gentler. ‘Oh, Eliza! Oh, don’t cry, darling, we’ll help you sort everything out.’ Dumping the wine and the bag on the floor at her feet, she gathered Eliza into a hug.

      ‘I’m okay,’ Eliza managed to say around the tears which had come on unexpectedly earlier that evening. Five weeks to the day since she’d left Martin in the airport and it felt like she’d lurched out of one rut and fallen straight into another. Her parents had welcomed her with open arms, though with more than a little concern about her snap decision. They’d danced around the subject, her mum’s comments rather more barbed than those from her dad, but accepted her request for space to sort things out. Only she hadn’t sorted anything out, just slipped into helping out in the pub, and now they were acting like she had a job for life behind the bar.

      She knew how upset they’d both been at her brother Sam’s decision to pursue his dream of opening his own restaurant rather than taking over running the pub as previous generations of Barneses had, and now it seemed to be falling to Eliza by default of her return. And she didn’t want it any more than Sam had. In a fit of confusion, she’d texted Libby for help.

      Another set of arms enfolded her from behind, and the soothing tones of her other best friend, Beth Reynolds, murmured against her ear. ‘Of course you are. We’ve got you now.’ Knowing it to be true, some of the desperate panic seizing Eliza’s heart eased.

      She sat up a little, and her friends eased back from the embrace to look at her. Beth offered her a tissue, and the three of them laughed when Eliza blew her nose, making enough noise to put a baby elephant to shame. Libby stood up. ‘I’m going to raid the kitchen for some plates and glasses, be right back.’

      Eliza heard her talking to someone on the landing, her brother, Sam, from the deepness of the tone, and sure enough he followed Libby into the room. ‘I’m not stopping,’ he said. ‘Just making a contribution to the cause.’ He held up his hands to show a chocolate fudge cake, then placed it on a free space on her dressing table. Bending at the waist, he brushed a quick kiss on Beth’s cheek and whispered something in her ear.

      It had been weird for Eliza at first when Sam and Beth had started dating that spring. But seeing the way they gravitated towards each other every time they were in the same space, it was clear they were head over heels. Although Sam kept his bedroom at the pub, he spent almost all of his free time at Beth’s and Eliza doubted it would be too long before they were living together officially. Her heart twisted. As much as she adored them both and wanted nothing but their happiness, the easy way they had with each other served only to drive home how much Eliza had lost.

      Returning with plates and glasses, Libby sent a mock-pout towards Sam as he straightened up from Beth’s side. ‘What about me?’ She puckered her lips at Sam, making kissing noises.

      He blew her a kiss then ruffled her wild, spiky hair. ‘What are we calling this, seasick green?’

      ‘Mermaid, actually.’ She poked her tongue out at him. ‘Why are you still here?’

      With a grin, he held his hands up in surrender as he backed towards the door. ‘I’m leaving, I’m leaving.’

      The light-hearted interlude provided enough of a distraction for Eliza to calm her tears. She mopped her face dry whilst Libby removed three parcels wrapped in white paper from the carrier bag and placed each on a plate. She handed one to Eliza. ‘Small haddock and chips, and—’ she pulled a Styrofoam cup from the bag ‘—Mushy peas.’

      She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but not wishing to offend her friend, Eliza tugged the paper open. Her mouth watered as the smell of hot chips and vinegar hit her nostrils, making her realise she hadn’t eaten anything beyond half a slice of toast that morning. Tipping the contents of the paper onto her plate, she dumped the pot of peas next to it and her stomach gave a rumble of approval. Libby offered her some cutlery, which she accepted with a grateful smile. ‘Thanks for this.’

      Libby shrugged. ‘With the kind of staff discount I get, it’s no big deal.’ Given that Libby’s dad owned the local fish and chip shop just a few doors along the promenade from the pub, that was something of an understatement. Libby handed Eliza a glass of wine. ‘And I scored this from your mum on my way through the bar, so freebies all round.’ She clinked her glass against Eliza’s. ‘Cheers.’

      Eliza returned the gesture, took a large mouthful then placed her glass on the bedside table. Silence settled over the three of them as they each began to eat. She knew they must be full of questions, but the fact they didn’t push her to talk proved once again how important the bond between them was. She should never have let Martin talk her into moving so far away.

      The food in her mouth formed into a hard lump and she reached for her wine to wash it down. ‘What am I going to do?’

      Beth set her knife and fork together. ‘About what?’

      A bitter laugh escaped Eliza. ‘Everything. You know, I lie on this bed every night running over the last ten years of my life and I can’t tell you what Martin’s honest opinion is about anything. I used to credit the fact we never argued as a sign of a healthy relationship, but now I realise he just said whatever he thought I wanted to hear.’ She rubbed her aching eyes. ‘If he wanted to do something, he just went ahead with it and then would make out he’d done it for our benefit. If it was something I wanted, and it didn’t interfere with his plans then he just let me get on with it.’

      Their house was a prime example. Martin had found it, even gone so far as to research the mortgage payments, access to local facilities, how much money they could save compared to renting because of the cheaper cost of living—everything to make the fact he’d already accepted a job hundreds of miles from their home town seem perfectly logical. When it came to the interior, he’d given her free rein, saying she was the one with the creative streak and could use it as a template to show off her skills. She’d