Winter Magic in Port Berry (Port Berry #3)

Chapter 25

Will

The venom in Ginny’s words stung, crippling Will in a million ways. All he could do was flee the scene as quickly as possible. Air was what he needed. Sea salty air to remind him of freedom and what his only family looked like.

There had been times Will had stood on deck of a warship, staring out to sea, wondering what else was out there for him. A home, a different job, love. He never saw too far past the Royal Navy, always staying within the moment, feeling it a safer place for his heart. His shattered, worn-through heart was with the sea once more.

The water lapped against the limbs of the short pier. An eerie but comforting sound, and before Will had a chance to assess the cold bitterness of the dark liquid below, he jumped in.

He’d always loved cold water swimming, and knew his body could handle the temperature for a while.

‘Sanctuary,’ he muttered, lying flat on his back, watching a thousand stars peering down from an early-evening black sky.

Even with the shore close by, Will stayed put, enjoying the peace the sea brought him.

The face of his mother flashed before his eyes. Babs had her picture in a frame at the care home, alongside one of her late husband. Where was the picture of her one and only grandchild? Lost somewhere in her memories, that was where. But it didn’t matter that he knew the reason. It still hurt. Once more, he was missing from their family. Just as he had been banished from Ginny’s.

Port Berry had brought him nothing but misery. Worse, it gave him expectations. Something he knew as a child not to have. If only he had stayed that way. It wouldn’t hurt. It just wouldn’t hurt.

How had he allowed possibilities to appear? What was he thinking buying a shop, selling everything he owned in Wales, and more importantly putting all his eggs in one basket labelled Ginny Dean?

Seawater lapped at his ears, deafening him at every roll of a wave. It was getting colder by the second, and if he didn’t get out soon, someone would have to drag his deadweight from the shoreline if the tide was kind enough to herd him in that direction.

Will knew if the RNLI was called to rescue him, having got wind he’d jumped into the sea on Christmas Day, there was no way they’d let him join their crew. Not that he’d blame them.

But there was something serene about his surroundings. The peace, the stars, the feeling of insignificance in such a vast open space. He wondered if anyone would miss him if he floated away, not that he had any intention of doing so.

It was a strange face to see first, but Mabel came to mind. She’d been kind to him since his arrival in the fishing village. Telling him the gossip, helping him find his feet, even kick-starting a new beginning for him on his behalf.

Will’s blue lips twitched into a smile.

Jed appeared next. Setting him up with village life, making him part of the team.

Then came Alice’s smile. Inviting him places, showing him friendship.

One by one, the locals entered his weary head. Their voices, comments, offers of kindness, a community. He never had that in Wales. Just a lot of moving around and a few people he knew here and there.

‘I did find happiness,’ he spluttered, spitting salty water.

And just like that it hit him all at once. Port Berry wasn’t a curse. It was a blessing. Did he find what he was looking for when he arrived? Not exactly. He got his answers, none of which he’d expected, but now he had something else.

It didn’t matter what Ginny said or thought. He did belong, and not because he was born there. He fitted. And he’d be damned if he was going to move around ever again.

‘Not this time,’ he told the dark sky.

The sea was freezing, and Will’s body was almost powerless, but through sheer bloody determination alone, he rolled over onto his front and started to slowly swim towards the shingles.

The ice in the air chilled him to his core as he trudged over to the B&B. How he could stand, he didn’t know, but something was holding him up, moving his legs, and keeping him alive.

Mabel wasn’t about, and his key was hanging out with the fish, so he grabbed the spare from the little cupboard behind the reception desk and headed to his room to defrost.

* * *

Thump, thump, thump. Will was sure his ears were ringing too. He opened his eyes, realizing the banging wasn’t in his dream at all. It was coming from his door.

‘Will, you awake?’ called Mabel.

That was odd. She didn’t normally wake him. Nobody woke him since his navy days when Call the Hands would let him know it was time to rise and shine, swiftly followed by the Standard Operator Checks. Ginny’s body wrapped around him were the only other times, but that hadn’t been often. He hoped Mabel hadn’t witnessed his moment of madness at the pier. How long had he been asleep anyway? The last thing he remembered was taking off his wet clothes and flopping to the bed.

He turned to his phone on the bedside cabinet, then groaned as he remembered it had drowned. Maybe it could be repaired, but he wasn’t holding his breath. Nope, he’d have to buy a new one.

Oh, what was I thinking?

Mabel knocked on the door again.

With heavy heart, and even heavier limbs, Will got up to see what was so important. The light blaring in the window told him it was daytime, so maybe he’d slept in late and she was worried because he hadn’t shown his face. At least someone thought of him.

‘Morning, Mabel. Everything all right?’ He stretched his aching right arm up to the back of his neck.

‘No, lovey, it’s not.’ Her pale-blue eyes held nothing but dismay, and Will wondered what was wrong with the B&B.

‘What’s wrong, Mabel? Do you need to sit down?’ He moved towards her, but she placed her frail hand on his.

‘It’s Meadow House. They’ve been trying to reach you all morning. They called here.’

Every fibre of Will’s being woke. ‘Is Babs okay?’

Mabel slowly shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, lovey. She passed away in her sleep last night.’

He was sure that was what she said, but it took a moment for her words to sink in fully. Not knowing what to say or how to act, he just stood there, lifeless.

‘It’s okay, Will. I’ll help you.’ Mabel gestured at his room. ‘You get yourself ready, and we’ll pop over there in a jiffy. See what needs to be done.’

As he seemed to be unable to make any decisions himself, he followed orders, only feeling his senses return when they stepped foot inside the residential care home.

Clare came rushing forward, flinging her arms around him tightly. ‘I’m so sorry, Will.’ She pulled back, offering a warm smile. ‘She was one of my favourites. I’m going to miss her so much.’

Mabel thanked her, as Will stayed silent. ‘We thought it best to come over. See what you want us to do.’

Clare shook her head. ‘Oh, there’s nothing to do. It’s all sorted.’ She moved closer, lowering her voice. ‘Her body has already been taken, and I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Babs had made her own funeral arrangements a while back. Bought some package deal at the local funeral directors. I can put you in touch with them.’

‘Yes, please,’ said Mabel, as Will went over to a nearby chair to sit down.

From the moment Ginny tossed him out of her life to the second his backside met the plump seat in the foyer of Meadow House, it all seemed like a never-ending nightmare. Had he been the one who died? Did the Grim Reaper play tricks?

Alive or dead, Will had no one anymore. Babs was his past. Ginny no longer a future. He didn’t need to make arrangements for his gran, like a normal family member, because even that had been taken away. So he just sat there, feeling alone.

‘Come on, lovey,’ said Mabel. ‘Let’s get you home.’

The drive back to the B&B seemed to take longer, and Mabel going on about Boxing Day dinner went in one ear and out the other. What day it was no longer mattered.

Mabel stuck the kettle on as soon as they entered the warmth of her kitchen, but Will wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat or sympathetic smiles. He made his excuses and left, and not just for his sake. Mabel needed to be back in her own life, not worrying about him.

He waited in his room until he heard her go off to her friend’s house for dinner, then he popped back to the kitchen to grab something for his empty stomach.

Mabel had left him a note, stating there was a plate of turkey and stuffing sandwiches in the fridge with his name on them.

Will unpeeled the foil to check he had the right grub, grabbed a bottle of water, then headed off to his new shop.

It was cold inside, reminding him to call the electricity company soon. Sheila had cleared the place, leaving nothing but a small toilet and a back room suitable for a kitchen.

Shaun had promised to start renovations in a couple of weeks, so that was something at least. There wasn’t much to do in the grand scheme of things, but it certainly felt overwhelming as Will sat on the hard floor, going over the to-do list.

He bit into a sandwich, hoping it would help settle the swirl in his gut.

Paint charts caught his eye. He still hadn’t decided on a main colour. Something to do with the sea was winning the race, but Ginny’s café had the harbour theme well and truly in place. Perhaps aquamarine gingham for tablecloths and awning. Maybe the tearoom could look beachy, rather than harbour. Flip-flops and buckets and spades. But there wasn’t anywhere in Port Berry to make sandcastles.

‘Hmm.’ Will glanced around. ‘Speak to me.’ He stood, eating his sandwich as he approached the window to stare out at the empty street.

Ginny would be with her friends, enjoying Boxing Day, or not, seeing how he’d embarrassed her in front of them. There was no point thinking about how much she hated him. He’d had about as much self-pity as he could take.

‘Ah,’ he said, mouth full, pointing towards the lighthouse in the distance. ‘Could go red and white like that.’ He shook his head, as candy canes came to mind.

A seagull cried outside, gaining attention. Will knew he’d have a war on his hands with that lot come summer.

Harbour Light Café hit all the right notes for the fishermen, but what if the tearoom focused on the pirates of Cornwall? Surely that would make the customers smile. He’d noticed there was something about a pirate at every turn since he arrived. Why shouldn’t the tearoom join in with the stories? He wouldn’t be able to fly the flag, as Robson’s pub already had one behind the bar, but he could have parts of a ship, make it more light-hearted so kids would tug their parents inside to plop on a hat and eat a skull and crossbones cupcake.

Will laughed at the thought.

The staff could wear costumes, and the menu could be filled with pirate puns.

‘Am I going overboard?’ he asked the mooching seagull.

Pastel lemon on the paint chart caught his attention, taking his mind to a rustic farmhouse with animals and warmth. Ginny.

Will smiled. He knew exactly what to do.