LITMIR.BIZ

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and he knocked on the window to get Pete’s attention. Bending at the waist whilst he waited for the older man to unlock the door, he stretched out his hamstrings with a few toe touches. The bell above the door rattled, and he straightened up with a smile. ‘Morning, Pete.’

      The butcher grinned. ‘Morning, Sam lad. Bit of a brisk one this morning.’

      Sam nodded. ‘But clear as far as the eye can see so I’m hoping for a few extra drop-ins. Can you do me about three kilos of braising steak and a dozen lamb kidneys?’

      Pete’s eyes lit up. ‘You going to talk your mum into making puddings for lunch?’ When Sam nodded, the butcher grinned. ‘Make sure you save us a plate, I’ll be in around half one.’

      ‘Sounds good. I’ll join you if you don’t mind and we can maybe run through the menus for the next couple of weeks?’

      Pete stuck out his hand. ‘Sounds good. Billy should be in within the next half hour, I’ll get your order together and he can drop it in to you, if that works?’ They still did things the old-fashioned way in Lavender Bay, and the butcher’s young assistant could often be seen peddling around the streets on a bike with a huge basket mounted on the front of it packed with paper-wrapped parcels of meat.

      ‘That would be a great help, thanks. We’ve got a new guest beer in, I’ll stand you a pint.’ With a wave, Sam picked up his pace once again.

      By the time he turned the corner and began making his way back along the prom, he’d bumped into half a dozen local traders and sold them all on the promise of his mum’s steak and kidney pudding. It was a tightrope sometimes balancing the needs of the locals with the influx of tourists, but his parents had always stressed the importance of maintaining a good network of contacts. They shopped local whenever possible, and that loyalty was returned in kind. Each encounter also drove home to him how much resistance he’d be facing when it came to any changes he wanted to make at the pub. Folks around here were plain and hearty, and liked their food the same way. So for now it would be steak and kidney pud, rather than the cassoulet of venison he might prefer to make.

      Jogging over to the railing which separated the edge of the promenade from the short drop down to the beach, Sam propped his foot on the lower rail and bent over his knee to stretch out his calf. A few dog-walkers dotted the dark sand, but other than that it was quiet.

      Switching his leg stretches to torso twists, Sam froze mid-movement when he spotted a light shining in the window of the emporium. The fate of the place had been the subject of much gossip and speculation, and he, along with the rest of the town, had been expecting a ‘for sale’ sign to appear soon. Curious, he crossed the promenade to peer through the dirty glass. The dust covers had been removed from a couple of the display cabinets, the cloth pooled on the floor. He cupped his hands to his eyes, but there was no sign of life inside beyond the light and the signs of disturbance. He knocked on the window, and waited.

      The lack of response worried him—the bay had its fair share of drifters and troublemakers, what if one of them was looking to take advantage of the empty shop? He tested the handle, pausing when it turned easily in his palm to glance upwards. The old-fashioned brass bell still hung over the door and opening it would provide warning for whoever might be inside. Hopefully it would be enough to scare them away. Sam checked his pocket, found the reassuring shape of his phone and sucked in a deep breath. Using his shoulder, he shoved open the door sending the bell clanging wildly.

      A loud thump, followed by a ripe curse in a familiar female voice, came from beneath the large wooden counter across the room. ‘Ow, bollocks and shite!’

      ‘Beth?’ Sam hurried closer as her familiar auburn hair, coated in a fine layer of dust, appeared from beneath the counter. The delicate features of her face were scrunched into a frown.

      ‘Sam? What the hell are you doing here?’

      He couldn’t help laughing at the fierce demand. ‘Shouldn’t that be my line?’

      Pushing to her feet, Beth folded her arms over her chest. ‘Considering you’re the one trespassing in my shop, then no, it’s most definitely my line.’

      ‘Your…?’ Mind reeling from the shock of seeing her so unexpectedly, it took him a moment of two to put the pieces together and then he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. ‘Eleanor left the emporium to you?’

      Beth used the back of her hand to push a stray length of her hair back from her face, leaving a dirty streak high on her cheekbone in the process. ‘Yes. I had no idea, but it was a gift I couldn’t ignore and came at just the right time because I couldn’t stick that job a moment longer.’ Her eyes widened in horror and she clapped a hand to her cheek. ‘Oh, God! That sounded awful, like I wished Eleanor dead or something.’

      Tears pooled in her eyes and he reached out to cup her shoulders. ‘Hush, now. It didn’t sound anything of the sort. Were things really that bad?’

      Beth nodded her head, sending the tears spilling over onto her cheeks. She sniffed, then laughed at the ungainly noise. ‘I hated it. I never realised how much until I was standing in my boss’s office telling him to get stuffed.’

      Sam squeezed her shoulders. ‘From what Eliza’s told me about him, he deserved it.’ He glanced around, taking in the dusty shelves, and the ridiculous wooden banana with the cheeky-faced monkey perched on the top. Everything his eyes touched upon reminded him of Eleanor, and he had to admire Beth’s courage at taking the place on. How much harder must it be for her, having spent so many years working side by side with her old friend and mentor.

      As though she heard his thoughts, Beth sighed. ‘I don’t know if I can face being here either, to be honest. Mr Symonds told me there’s a buyer who’s interested in the place and Eleanor said she wouldn’t mind if I sold it…’

      Sam frowned in confusion. ‘I thought you said you didn’t know she planned to leave the emporium to you?’

      ‘Oh, I had no idea, but she wrote me a letter which she left with her will.’ Her hand strayed to the pocket at her hip, as though she carried the letter with her. ‘It’s not just the shop, she left me everything.’ Beth hung her head. ‘But I’m not sure I can fill her shoes, or if I should even try.’

      The raw pain was visible in every line of her body and Sam curled an arm around her back to draw her close against him. ‘She believed in you, Beth. Was so proud of everything you’ve achieved. She was always full of your latest news when she dropped in next door for her sherry.’

      Beth gave a bitter laugh. ‘And what exactly have I achieved? A failed career, a failed relationship.’ Well, that explained why she’d been on her own at the funeral. The air seemed to escape from her and she sagged against him for a few moments before straightening up again. ‘I don’t think I’m very good at anything, no matter how hard I try.’

      This lacklustre, deflated attitude wasn’t like Beth, and although he wouldn’t say anything to her, it had him worried. She’d always been quiet, but he’d never known her to be lacking in confidence. ‘You don’t have to rush into making any decisions, do you?’

      Taking a deep breath, she shook her head then stepped back to look at him. ‘You’re right. I can save the big decisions for another day. I’ll focus on getting the place spruced up a bit and try and work out where everything stands. No one’s going to notice much if the place isn’t open before Easter.’ Like a lot of seaside towns, Lavender Bay was heavily reliant on the influx of holiday makers at peak seasons to make ends meet.

      ‘Good idea. If you need help with anything, you only have to ask.’

      ‘I’m sure you’ve got your hands full running things next door.’ Beth drew her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘I was so sorry about your dad. I didn’t get much of a chance to speak to him when I was down, how is he?’

      Sam set his hands on his hips as he scrubbed the toe of his trainer through the thin layer of dust coating the wooden floor of the shop. ‘Miserable. Keeps trying to do too much which only sets him back.’ It was his turn

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