Innis had been released by the police. They’d had to, with no direct evidence aside from his own wife’s assumptions. At least, that was the gossip Motts heard from Marnie early the next morning.
She’d fled the house before her parents woke up, leaving a note on the counter with her excuse of going to pick up breakfast for everyone. Her first stop had been to Griffin Brews, where she ran into Marnie chatting with Vina and Nish at the front counter. They immediately shared the news.
After delaying as long as possible, Motts grabbed a selection of pastries. She wandered outside the café, secured the box onto the basket, and got onto her bike. Her progress forward was halted when a vehicle swerved to park in front of her.
Bugger.
Innis stormed out of his van towards her. “You.”
“Me?” Motts froze on her bicycle. She didn’t know where to look, so she stared at his chin. It had a small scar hidden underneath the stubble. “I’m going home now.”
“You need to quit interfering.” He stepped closer to her.
Motts wrinkled her nose; he smelled like fish guts. “Your wife brought you to the attention of the police by throwing stones through my window.”
“Innis. Shouldn’t you be at your shop by now?” Nish strode out of the café. He came to a stop in front of Motts, making a barrier between her and the angry man. “And maybe you should quit trying to scare people.”
“Fine.” Innis’s nostrils flared as he breathed heavily. After a moment, he stomped back to his van and drove away.
“You okay?” Nish wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll chat with him later once he’s cooled off.”
“Not sure what good it’ll do. I need to get home before my parents wake up.” Motts’s hands shook as she gripped the handlebars. She cycled unsteadily at first before getting herself under control. “Bye, Nish.”
He yelled at her to be safe. Motts kept cycling. She cycled all the way to the base of the hill leading up to her cottage. As she came around the corner, Noel Watson skidded to a halt in front of her.
“Mr Watson.” Motts managed to not say, “I presume.” She kept thinking about Sherlock Holmes. “Were you up at the cottage?”
“What are you doing here?”
She blinked at him in confusion. “In Cornwall? On this street? In the universe? How existential are we talking?”
“You’re in the way.” He shoved by her, running down the street like she’d come down with a sudden case of fatal contagious viral infection. “Rude bint.”
“Me?” Motts stared after him.
What had Noel been doing at the top of the hill? She hadn’t seen him there before aside from when he’d been on the coastal path behind her cottage. Should I mention this to Teo? I don’t want to bother him.
Motts trudged up the hill to the cottage, secured her bicycle next to the scooter, and made her way inside. She quietly muttered, “Hello.”
Anyone?
Nope.
Well, thank goodness for small mercies.
Home alone except for my lovelies.
Sneaking through the cottage, Motts greeted Moss and offered her some breakfast. She left the extra coffees and pastries in the kitchen. Cactus followed her down the hall to the spare room.
“Success,” Motts whispered. She curled back up under the blanket with her coffee, and Cactus nibbled at the edge of her pastry. “Bad kitty.”
Meow.
“No, you can’t have my breakfast.” She put her headphones on to watch a YouTube video.
“Poppet?”
Motts groaned, shifting Cactus away and placing her coffee on the desk in the corner. She tripped over the duvet but finally made it to the door. “Dad?”
“Did something happen in the village?” Her dad had his phone in one hand and the coffee she’d left for him in the other. “Your uncle Tom sent me a text to check on you.”
What’s worse?
Village gossip, family gossip, or a combination of the two?
“Poppet?” her dad prompted as she got completely lost in thought over what was worse.
“Nothing happened.” She dodged by him with Cactus on her heels. “Is Mum up as well?”
“Pineapple Mottley.” He caught up to her in the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Motts didn’t really have an answer for him. She didn’t know how to explain the strange encounters she’d had with Noel and Innis. “Will you want a full English breakfast or are the pastries sufficient?”
Her dad simply stared at her until she stopped fussing with the bag from Griffin Brews. “Talk to me.”
She leaned against the counter with a sigh of resignation. “I can’t answer your question. I don’t know what’s happening. Until the police make an arrest, I’m not sure anyone will have answers.”
“Have we complicated your life by coming down again?” He chuckled when she turned away to fuss with Cactus’s breakfast. “We weren’t expecting to be empty nesters.”
“Ever?” Motts didn’t think even in London that she’d have been happy to live with her parents for the rest of her life. She’d wanted to spread her wings a little for years, even if she’d been later than most people. “Are you going to visit every month?”
“You could be less horrified by the concept.” He sipped his coffee, then leaned back to glance down the hallway. “Your mum went into the bedroom. How about we fix up some easy eggs and toast to go with your pastries?”
She loved her parents.
She genuinely adored them. She did.
By the end of the first day of their visit, Motts had reached the end of her tether. Her dad was brilliant. He didn’t press her for anything but was content to simply spend time together.
Her mum wanted to solve all of her problems—particularly the ones she imagined Motts had. They’d butted heads already over the way the garden had been situated. Her main gripe had been over Motts refusing to introduce to them to Teo.
The next morning, Motts fled the cottage after her mum decided to reorganise the kitchen. It’s not logical, darling. We’ll set it up so you don’t have to stress over where the mugs and tea are.
Deciding not to scream in frustration, Motts grabbed her scooter and rode down to the village in the pouring rain. She parked under the awning in front of Griffin Brews. Vina simply raised her eyebrows when Motts threw herself down onto her favourite chair in the corner and rested her head against the table.
“Rough morning?”
“Mum has gone from critiquing my garden to shuffling around everything in my kitchen cabinets.” Motts turned her head slightly to see Vina, who crouched next to the table. “I’m dripping on the floor.”
“Driving through a spring shower will do that to you. Let me grab a towel. Nish can fix you up with a warm mug of chocolate chai.” Vina patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about your cabinet. We can rearrange everything when they leave. You might even decide to declutter.”
Motts narrowed her eyes on her. “Declutter.”
“It’s not a dirty word.”
“You fell into the organising cult on YouTube, didn’t you?” Motts gratefully accepted the small tea towel Nish tossed at her. She wiped her arms and face off, then tried to dry her hair a little. “I don’t own enough to declutter.”
“Fair enough.” Vina headed off into the kitchen, likely to grab a larger towel.
“Here you go, Motts.” Nish had returned with a mug and set it on the table. “Want a pie, cake, sandwich? Amma whipped up a fresh batch of spiced fruit pies. They’re cooling in the kitchen. She won’t mind my nicking one for you.”
“I could eat.” Motts would never turn down one of Leena’s creations. She worked magic with spice, whether sweet or savoury. “Can I hide here forever?”
“They do know where the café is, Mottsy.” Vina wrapped a large towel around her shoulders. She grabbed the small tea towel and used it to clean up the puddle under the chair. “Want to borrow a spare set of clothes? I’ve got a bag in the office with jeans and a button-up. They should fit you fine—maybe a smidge too big given our height difference.”
“We’re not the same size on any set of measurements. I’ll dry off eventually.” Motts wasn’t overly concerned. “Pie?”
“Mottsy—”
Nish elbowed his sister in the side, cutting her off. “Amma’s calling you.”
“She’s not. I can’t hear her, and my hearing is better than both of yours,” Motts pointed out.
Nish pinched the bridge of his nose while Vina laughed at him. “Are they still wanting to meet Teo?”
Motts had the strangest feeling she’d missed something. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. “Of course they do. I haven’t been out with someone since Vina and I split. They’re not interested in how it was more of a friend thing than a full-on date.”
“Parents,” Nish sympathised. “Oh, a customer. Be back.”
Vina slipped into the chair across from her. “It’s pouring down rain out there.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” Motts squeezed water out of her hair into the towel.
“You can’t ride home until it stops. Why don’t you sneak upstairs with me? We’ve got the apartment all kitted out for late night baking. Have a hot shower. Change into some dry clothes. If you won’t wear mine, I’ll run across the street to pick up something from the charity shop in your size.” Vina pushed the mug of warm tea closer to her. “You’ll catch a cold if you sit in those clothes to dry.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re overwhelmed by your parents and everything else. Have a long, hot shower. If nothing else, it’ll warm you up and stop you from shivering.” Vina got to her feet and came around the table to try to lift Motts up. “Please?”
“Fine.”
They wandered through the kitchen to the narrow stairs leading up to the upstairs apartment. Vina ran the shower and set out a towel for her. She ushered Motts into the bathroom, leaving her with the instruction to take her time.
“I do know how to bathe myself,” Motts grumbled.
“I’ll run over to the shop to grab some clothes for you. Or I’ll drive up to the cottage to grab a spare set of yours so you can’t complain about my spending money unnecessarily.” Vina was gone before Motts could argue.
Well, nothing to do but shower since the water’s already running.
Why is everyone so pushy all of a sudden?
It’s infuriating.
It was late in the afternoon when Motts finally returned home to the cottage. Her mum had definitely been cooking. She could smell sausage and knew her mum had made toad-in-the-hole for dinner.
Food was definitely the way to Motts’s heart after a tension-filled day. She found her parents deep in conversation in the kitchen. They both smiled when she stepped hesitantly closer.
“Toad-in-the-hole?”
“Thought you might enjoy a home-cooked meal.” Her mum gestured to the baking pan cooling on the counter. “Are you ready for a bite? Or is it too early?”
“It’s fine.” Motts hated the stilted conversation. She wished her mum didn’t always take things so personally. It wasn’t an attack if she wanted to keep her cottage different than her childhood home had been. Growing up meant figuring out things on her own. “Thanks, Mum.”
Please let them go home soon.
I might barricade myself in the spare room if they don’t.
Her parents left early the next morning. There had been no heart-to-heart conversations. Motts supposed they’d always see her as their little girl, even if it annoyed her to no end.
After spending half the morning returning her mugs to their rightful home, Motts tried to get into the groove of her normal day. She messed up six paper tulips and almost ruined one of her quilling projects. Her mind was clearly telling her to get out of the cottage.
The skies had cleared late in the previous evening. Motts wandered out into the garden with Cactus on his leash. They both enjoyed the breeze coming in off the sea with the bright sun overhead.
Her herb patch was doing well with the rain and sun. She had high hopes it would begin to sprout in the next month or two. New growth in what had been a scene of a tragedy.
It was almost poetic.
“Your garden’s doing well.”
Motts tightened her fingers on the leash. She hadn’t heard anyone walking down the path along her fence. “Yes.”
Noel leaned against the fence casually. “Are you recovered from your accident?”
“My accident?”
“Heard you’d been run over.”
She didn’t know how to respond to his statement. It wasn’t a question. “Not really an accident if someone runs you over, is it?”
The odd encounter became even stranger when he simply walked down the path. Where was he going? He lived (and worked) in the opposite direction. Why did he keep heading down the coastal path by her cottage?
What was down there?
The question ate at her all morning. Motts found curiosity once again driving her to explore where she probably shouldn’t. She locked up the cottage and headed off the path in the direction Noel had gone earlier in the day.
Despite walking for over an hour, Motts never discovered anything of particular interest. She turned around, retracing her steps to avoid being stuck out in the dark on the rocky path. Cactus waited anxiously for her, his little face almost pressed against the glass of the back window.
Meow.
Motts bent down to lift him up when she got inside the cottage. “Did you miss me? I was gone longer than I intended, wasn’t I?”
Deciding to warm up with a mug of tea, Motts got the kettle going. She set a bowl of treats out for Cactus, who acted as though he hadn’t been fed in three weeks. He purred between bites of food.
“At least we have the cottage to ourselves again.”