warming up and it was going to be the most glorious day. A day for walking into town and buying a crab sandwich and sitting with your legs hanging over the harbour wall while you ate it, and trying to stop the seagulls pinching the crusts out of your hands.
A feeling settled on her but she couldn’t identify it. She shut her eyes to analyse it, and finally put her finger on her emotion. She did feel sad, but not sad because Spencer was dead. Sad because she didn’t feel sadder. Had she loved him? She couldn’t be sure. They had rubbed along together well enough, in benign disinterest. They never argued. They simply didn’t have anything in common. They barely spent any time alone together. They’d resorted to separate bedrooms years ago. Vanessa knew this was partly her fault. She had frozen up after the ectopic pregnancy. Spencer certainly hadn’t forced her into anything. Separate rooms had stopped sex being the elephant in the room. And if Spencer found other women to keep him entertained, he was very discreet about it.
She had never embarked on any sort of clandestine relationship herself. She wasn’t sure how Spencer would have reacted if she had and he had found out. She hadn’t the confidence or the inclination or the opportunity. In the meantime, she had buried herself in her shop.
Spencer had bought Adrift for her, as a sort of consolation prize for not being able to have a baby. A clumsy but well-meaning gesture that she hadn’t the heart to object to. The sort of gesture that wealthy men made when they felt guilty and weren’t sure what to do with their wives.
She was surprised as anyone to have subsequently fallen in love with it. Maybe Spencer knew her better than she knew herself? And she made a success of it, too. She had learned a lot about retail in the shop where they had met, and she used those skills to open a gallery selling artwork and jewellery inspired by the sea, using strictly local artists, of which there were plenty. And of course she had Spencer to learn from, although her motives were entirely different from his when it came to business. She wasn’t out to make massive profits. For Vanessa, it was about discovering and nurturing new talent, giving artists their first break and watching them flourish. And if she happened to make money (which she did, because she had a good eye for what tourists wanted) she invested in new talent. Profit gave her the luxury of being able to take risks.
Adrift was her baby and her lover. It gave her a sense of identity and purpose. It was shut today, out of respect, and the two girls who worked there would be at the funeral. No doubt they would be wondering what would happen now, whether Vanessa would keep the shop on. Of course she would. Too many livelihoods depended on it: artists and craftspeople who already had limited outlets. She couldn’t just cut off their source of income. And the approaching winter was when she would have time to discover new talent. The summer had been hectic. Now it was time to take stock, literally, and discover new possibilities.
She poured the last inch of coffee out of the pot but it was too cold by now. She wasn’t sure what to do while she waited for the funeral to start. She thought about phoning Squirrel and then thought – no. She needed to get today out of the way first. Squirrel could wait until tomorrow.
Kate called the surgery on the dot of half past eight and managed to wangle herself an emergency appointment with Dr Webster at nine. She decided to walk to the medical centre. It was up yet another steep hill on the outskirts of the town, but it was quicker to walk than going to fetch the car.
As she left the house and stepped out into the street, her mother’s next-door neighbour shot out of her side gate. Sunny had the longest plait of anyone Kate had ever met, and dressed in the colours of the rainbow. She ran the health-food shop in the high street and sold crystals and talismans and incense. She
A feeling settled on her but she couldn’t identify it. She shut her eyes to analyse it, and finally put her finger on her emotion. She did feel sad, but not sad because Spencer was dead. Sad because she didn’t feel sadder. Had she loved him? She couldn’t be sure. They had rubbed along together well enough, in benign disinterest. They never argued. They simply didn’t have anything in common. They barely spent any time alone together. They’d resorted to separate bedrooms years ago. Vanessa knew this was partly her fault. She had frozen up after the ectopic pregnancy. Spencer certainly hadn’t forced her into anything. Separate rooms had stopped sex being the elephant in the room. And if Spencer found other women to keep him entertained, he was very discreet about it.
She had never embarked on any sort of clandestine relationship herself. She wasn’t sure how Spencer would have reacted if she had and he had found out. She hadn’t the confidence or the inclination or the opportunity. In the meantime, she had buried herself in her shop.
Spencer had bought Adrift for her, as a sort of consolation prize for not being able to have a baby. A clumsy but well-meaning gesture that she hadn’t the heart to object to. The sort of gesture that wealthy men made when they felt guilty and weren’t sure what to do with their wives.
She was surprised as anyone to have subsequently fallen in love with it. Maybe Spencer knew her better than she knew herself? And she made a success of it, too. She had learned a lot about retail in the shop where they had met, and she used those skills to open a gallery selling artwork and jewellery inspired by the sea, using strictly local artists, of which there were plenty. And of course she had Spencer to learn from, although her motives were entirely different from his when it came to business. She wasn’t out to make massive profits. For Vanessa, it was about discovering and nurturing new talent, giving artists their first break and watching them flourish. And if she happened to make money (which she did, because she had a good eye for what tourists wanted) she invested in new talent. Profit gave her the luxury of being able to take risks.
Adrift was her baby and her lover. It gave her a sense of identity and purpose. It was shut today, out of respect, and the two girls who worked there would be at the funeral. No doubt they would be wondering what would happen now, whether Vanessa would keep the shop on. Of course she would. Too many livelihoods depended on it: artists and craftspeople who already had limited outlets. She couldn’t just cut off their source of income. And the approaching winter was when she would have time to discover new talent. The summer had been hectic. Now it was time to take stock, literally, and discover new possibilities.
She poured the last inch of coffee out of the pot but it was too cold by now. She wasn’t sure what to do while she waited for the funeral to start. She thought about phoning Squirrel and then thought – no. She needed to get today out of the way first. Squirrel could wait until tomorrow.
Kate called the surgery on the dot of half past eight and managed to wangle herself an emergency appointment with Dr Webster at nine. She decided to walk to the medical centre. It was up yet another steep hill on the outskirts of the town, but it was quicker to walk than going to fetch the car.
As she left the house and stepped out into the street, her mother’s next-door neighbour shot out of her side gate. Sunny had the longest plait of anyone Kate had ever met, and dressed in the colours of the rainbow. She ran the health-food shop in the high street and sold crystals and talismans and incense. She
Similar Books
