LITMIR.BIZ

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pay someone to do the work or learn how to do itself, she chose the latter.

      She’d enrolled in a painting and decorating course at a local college for one day a week that fitted in with Jamie’s school hours and after that she’d kept going, learning with books, online courses, and a lot of trial and error. Now she was able to tackle most jobs herself and loved it so much – dreaming up colour combinations or imagining how textures might work in a room and then putting all her ideas into practice – she sometimes thought she’d missed her calling.

      She liked to give each room an individual feel but it was also important to keep things fairly neutral and, above all, comfortable. The other two guest rooms wouldn’t be decorated this year, just a thorough clean and a check everything was in working order. She folded the stepladders, propped them against the wall, and clicked off the radio just in time to hear the front door bang shut.

      ‘Mum?’ Eva felt herself relax at the sound of her son’s voice.

      ‘Up here! I’ll be down in a sec.’ Wiping her hands on her dungarees Eva headed downstairs, almost being knocked down by Hamish as he hurtled down after her. The reality of having a (literally barking mad) dog was proving to be very different from the one Eva imagined when she had finally given in to Jamie’s constant pleading. Eva could think of a hundred reasons why not to get a dog but Jamie’s single reason – he wanted a dog because he didn’t have a brother or sister – trumped hers. Really, how could she refuse?

      Dogs and guests weren’t necessarily an ideal mix but Eva, always on the lookout for new target markets, had an idea and one she hoped would be a sound business move. Her master plan was to become a dog-friendly guest house. With its beautiful beaches and coastal paths, St Andrews was the ideal destination for dog lovers and she could tap into that. She’d have to look into it properly before the start of next season, find out about any legal requirements and change her website and marketing so guests would know she welcomed dogs.

      ‘You’ll have to train the dog properly and it won’t be allowed in the kitchen,’ she’d said to Jamie for the hundredth time as they had driven to the rescue centre.

      ‘I promise, Mum,’ he had replied solemnly. Jamie had fallen in love on sight with the mournful eyes of a scruffy brown and white crossbreed staring at him through the bars of a cage. Eva liked that he was small and – according to the lovely lady at the rescue centre – would be easy to train. That had been four weeks ago and so far, easy wasn’t a word Eva would use.

      In the hall, Eva ignored the trail of bags, jumpers, and football boots for now. Her eleven-year-old son’s tendency to go into a strop didn’t need any encouragement the minute he walked through the door. She found Jamie in the living room, his blond hair askew and long gangly limbs sprawled on the sofa with Hamish darting about ecstatically to welcome him home. Although Jamie shared Eva’s fair colouring, at times he looked so like Paul it broke her heart and all Eva wanted was to wrap her arms around him the way she had always done. But eleven was an awkward age. Sometimes still her little boy who needed reassurance but also an aspiring adult who didn’t always welcome hugs from his mum.

      ‘Hi, sweetheart. How was school?’ Eva asked him.

      ‘Fine,’ he replied using his standard response to most questions these days as he ruffled Hamish’s ears. The days of waiting at the primary school gates with other parents, swapping and verifying information before walking home while Jamie chatted non-stop already felt like a distant memory to Eva. It was early days, she reminded herself. There was so much for him to take in and he was bound to communicate more when he was ready. Overcome with excitement, Hamish suddenly leapt onto the sofa beside Jamie.

      ‘Off the sofa, Hamish!’ Eva yelled.

      ‘Mu-um! That’s not the right voice remember? You’re supposed to use a firm but calm voice,’ Jamie said, mimicking Mrs Duffy from puppy training class.

      Eva grimaced apologetically. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’

      Jamie rolled off the sofa, giggling with delight as Hamish jumped on top of him and began slobbering all over his face. ‘Hamish – yeuch!’ he cried.

      Eva grinned at them, relishing the moments when getting a dog did actually make sense.

      ‘So, did you have a good game of football?’ Eva asked.

      ‘Nah, our team lost,’ Jamie sniffed.

      Sports mad like his father had been – Eva always felt a disappointment for not getting excited about penalty shoot-outs or understanding offside. She’d coped with the dinosaur stage, learning the difference between a T Rex and a stegosaurus. She’d actually enjoyed mastering the techniques to build bridges and cars from Lego and she even knew every character from Star Wars. But she had never managed to grasp the intricacies of The Beautiful Game. Of course if Paul was here, they could talk football father to son, the way it should be.

      ‘I expected you home before now.’ Eva tried to keep her voice neutral.

      ‘It’s no big deal, Mum – we were just chatting a bit after the game,’ Jamie retorted, wiping an arm across his dirt-streaked face.

      ‘I don’t have a problem with that. But how about a text next time? Just to let me know if you’re going to be later. We agreed if you got a mobile phone you would keep in touch.’ Eva wondered how many times she had given the ‘keep in touch’ speech. Even she was fed up with the sound of her own voice saying the same thing over and over.

      Their wrestling match now over, Jamie got up from the floor while Hamish, tired out by his exertions, flopped dramatically on the floor.

      ‘Mum?’ Jamie came and stood beside Eva, almost the same height as her now, his blue eyes fixing her with a challenging stare. ‘Have you thought about it yet?’

      Eva’s heart sank. ‘Er, not properly yet.’

      ‘I need to let them know by next week. All my friends are going; I’ll be the only one not going,’ he pleaded, his face settling into a petulant pout.

      ‘I know that, but –’

      ‘Then why can’t I go?’ he demanded.

      ‘Let me think about it and I promise we’ll talk later, okay?’ She knew she was stalling. But how could she just say yes to a trip that meant her son would be hurling himself off cliffs, diving into water and God knows what else. The weekend trip, organized by his football club, might promise to be a great team-bonding adventure but the very thought of it made Eva come out in a cold sweat. And she wasn’t sure how she would cope with him being away. Apart from the odd sleepover she’d never been separated from him. Eva could almost hear Paul’s voice telling her not to worry, just to relax and let him go. But he wasn’t here now and it was all down to her.

      Eva plumped up a pillow, switching to a safer topic. ‘Are you hungry?’ Jamie’s face broke into the cheeky grin she knew so well and Eva felt her heart melt. ‘Why don’t you pick up your things in the hall and go for a shower and I’ll get something ready to eat.’

      ‘Okay.’ He slouched off but stopped and turned at the door. ‘I meant to say – I saw a light on in Mac’s place when I was coming home.’

      Eva nodded. ‘There was a removal van there earlier today. The new people have moved in.’

      ‘Who will it be?’

      Eva smiled at how young he could suddenly sound, as if she would always have the answers. ‘I don’t know. But I guess we’d better stop calling it Mac’s place.’

      Eva heard Jamie and Hamish thundering up the stairs as she went into the kitchen to heat the lasagne she had made earlier. Switching on the oven, she wondered how her new neighbours were and hoped everything was going well for whoever it was. After all, she knew how difficult moving day could be.

      ***

      A cold January day, it had snowed the day Eva and Jamie moved in to West Sands guest house. It had been the day her confidence had suddenly crumbled and she questioned whether

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