Chapter 24
Abigail could have walked it, but she chose to take the Beetle out instead just to wake up her nuisance neighbour. She saw him at the lighthouse window upstairs as she set off. It wasn’t in her nature to be mean, but she was still upset over how confrontational he’d been when she’d brought her stepfather to see the cottage. He had spoiled the surprise.
Abigail turned the car around in the driveway, paused to look at the dishevelled man standing at the window in what appeared to be a bathrobe, shook her head and set off. Just down the road, within walking distance, was Southwold Harbour. She’d been there before when she’d lived at home with her parents. There was a pub right on the harbour with a proper olde-worlde feel inside.
When she was a child, she would visit The Anchor Inn with her brother, little sister and parents, and sit outside on a wooden bench eating fish and chips on a Friday night while her parents sat inside and had a drink from the bar. With its nautical theme, the place wasn’t short of passing tourists either. The location was a large part of the attraction. A short walk across Bailey Bridge, the wooden footbridge that straddled the harbour and the river Alde at the mouth of the river, led to the other side of the harbour and the pretty little village of Walberswick. It was on the village side of the harbour that Lili’s friend, Ray, lived on a houseboat. Lili had made a call and asked if Abigail could pop along and see him.
As she parked the car in the small parking area beside the pub, she thought about how Ray sounded like an interesting character, with his previous career as an art cop at New Scotland Yard, hunting down stolen paintings and other artefacts to return to their rightful owners, and his current venture of tracking down unsuspecting heirs.
Abigail crossed the wooden footbridge, wondering what it must feel like for a person to discover they were an heir to a fortune. She had some inkling – not that she’d become an heir to a fortune herself, although in some ways she had. To her, the cottage was worth a fortune. If she sold the place, she would have far more money than she’d ever seen in her lifetime. She was thinking about having the cottage valued by a local estate agent. It gave her options, something she’d never had before. Now, finding herself on her own, she needed that more than ever.
Abigail paused in the middle of the bridge and turned to her right. Leaning against the handrail, she swept her gaze from the Southwold side of the harbour with the fishing trawlers lined up on the river below, The Anchor Inn and the ramshackle assortment of small business vying for trade along the harbour front, to the Walberswick side, more genteel and laid back, with houseboats, small sailing vessels and some barges moored along the towpath. She wondered which houseboat belonged to Ray.
She continued on her way along the wooden footbridge and stepped off on to the grassy bank on the other side. If she continued walking straight on, she’d be in the village harbour car park. Abigail had been there before, many years earlier. A short stroll up Walberswick’s main street, with its two quaint pubs, mixture of cottages, small village green and little thatched shelter containing two wooden seats brought you to the path that led to the timeless reed marshes with long wooden platforms for walking through the reeds to the stretch of wild sandy coastline on that side of the river. Before she turned toward the houseboats, she thoughtif I had the money, I’d buy a cottage in Walberswick,when it dawned on her that shedidhave the money. Obviously, not on her person, or even in her bank account, butdepending on how quickly the cottage sold, she would.
Abigail breathed a sigh as she turned away from the town and started down the narrow towpath on the opposite side of the river. She knew she would not buy a cottage in Walberswick, or anywhere else, for that matter. What was the point of her inheritance if she had no one to share it with?
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ a familiar voice asked.
Abigail came to an abrupt halt. She’d been walking along, deep in thought, staring at her feet, having forgotten about the views, when Joss stopped her in her tracks. The narrow path was just wide enough for two people, if one stepped on to the muddy bank either side.
‘Oh, Joss – what are you doing here?’ She hadn’t expected to see him. Was Lili up to things again, telling him about her visit to Walberswick so they could ‘bump into each other’? Abigail thought it was only fair that she came clean and told him she just wasn’t ready for a relationship. Before she bottled out, she said, ‘Look, Joss I’m not—’
She was interrupted by a loud ring from a bell, followed by Joss diving to her rescue and pulling her out of the way of a very inconsiderate man on a bicycle. He was speeding along the towpath. Abigail, in Joss’s arms, watched the man continuing to pedal at a pace, appearing oblivious to the fact that he’d almost knocked her into the river.
Joss let go of her arms. ‘Are you okay?’
Abigail took a breath. ‘I think so.’
He said, ‘Small world. Out for a walk?’
She shook her head. ‘Er, no, I’m visiting a man on a houseboat.’ She frowned. That sounded odd. ‘What I meant was—’
Actually, she hadn’t meant to say anything. He wasn’t meant to be here. Joss knew she’d inherited the cottage, and that she’d recently lost her husband, but none of the facts surrounding the inheritance, and the complications with the Somervilles.
She was surprised he’d gone along with her request for him not to say anything about her inheritance – no questions asked. Although it made her wonder … she knew very little about him, apart from his name, and that the incorrigible man in the lighthouse was his uncle. She wasn’t the only one keeping her cards close to her chest. She wasn’t the only one with secrets.
He smiled at her. ‘So, you’re here to see a man about a boat?’
‘Er, no. That’s not it. I’m here to see Lili’s friend, Ray.’
Abigail caught the surprised look on his face. ‘Do you know him?’
He glanced over his shoulder. ‘I’ve just come from there.’
‘Really?’
‘Are you an heir-hunter too?’
Joss stared at her for a moment, before replying, ‘I’m staying on his houseboat, in the spare bedroom.’
She recalled the day when he had taken his stuff and moved out. ‘Oh, so that’s where you’re staying.’
‘Yes, Lili wanted to put me up at The Summerhouse – do you know it?’
‘Yes, I’ve heard of it.’ She knew it had more bedrooms than Lili, her partner, and his son needed. She wondered why he couldn’t stay there for a few days.
As if reading her mind, he said, ‘Nate and I go back some. We had a falling-out. He still hasn’t forgiven me.’