Getting The Message

The e-mails Frank was getting from his sister weren’t promising . . .

SATURDAY. Hi, Frank. Just a quick e-mail to let you know I arrived in one piece and everything is fine.

Hi, Grace. I’ve never known you write such a brief e-mail in your life, and I know when you say something is fine, it isn’t. What’s up, sis?

Actually, Frank, I don’t like it here. Maybe it’s the cottage, although it’s as pretty as the photos, but there are bats hanging in the porch. Bats, Frank!

I keep expecting to open the door and find a cloaked figure with red eyes.

I’m not sure this holiday house-swap was one of your better ideas. Have you seen anything of the woman who’s staying at my house?

Sunday. What have you got against bats, Grace? Remember the one Grandad found? The bat rescue people said it was an exhausted teenager. They’ve always seemed cuter to me since then.

Yes, I’ve met Molly. She seems really nice.

Seriously, Grace, you need this break after all the months you nursed Dad. I hope you’re not sitting in the cottage moping.

I’ll have you know I’ve been for a walk! It was terrifying, though. I got lost, then it started to rain and the wind got up. It was lucky I spotted my red car through the trees, or I’d still be wandering around out there now.

The Wi-fi is patchy, there’s no mobile phone signal and it gets dark earlier here. Plus it’s really noisy. The wind is worse today and the rain’s torrential. I hope none of those trees come down.

I do think about Dad – not how he was lately, but how he used to be. Remember how he pushed us on the swings at the park so high you thought you’d go over the top?

And that laugh of his . . . Anyway, will keep you posted – unless I’m buried under a pile of trees.

Are you OK? It’s pretty stormy here, too, but we’re not that far away from you as the crow flies.

I saw Molly today. I bumped into her outside the Anchor. She seemed too scared to go in, but the Thundering Salts were having a Sea Shanty evening and I couldn’t let her miss that, so I persuaded her to come in for a drink.

She’s convinced the house is going to slide into the sea. I think that little cliff fall we had the day she arrived spooked her. She said her late husband was never keen on the seaside and she’s beginning to see his point.

Oh, she said if you go to the farm shop, say hello to Des for her, but to warn you he’s a bit shy.

She says if it doesn’t have four legs and a tail, generally Des doesn’t communicate with it.

I said you were the same! I miss Dad, too.

Monday.

Oh, Frank, you’ll laugh. I was so scared last night I slept downstairs on the sofa and when I woke up, I could feel something tickling my nose.

At first I thought my worst fears had been realised, but it turned out to be one of the farm cats come in through the cat flap. He was a gorgeous ginger cat with a smiley face and huge amber eyes.

Anyway, the sun’s come out and it’s as still as anything out there. It looks so fresh and pretty after the rain. I can’t wait to get into those swanky new walking boots I bought and march along to the farm shop.

I can hear birds singing!

That’s great, sis. It’s lovely here, too. The sea is like a mill pond and the sunrise today was awesome.

I bumped into Molly on the beach this morning. She made a big fuss of the dogs. She made me laugh – she said the sea spray was hitting the windows last night.

I said it often did in a storm.

She seems a bit reluctant to go out on her own, so I’m taking her along to Cassie’s tonight. She can’t come to the seaside and not sample the best fish and chips in the world!

Tuesday.

Sorry I didn’t e-mail any more yesterday. I hope you weren’t worried. I went to the farm shop as planned and when I got there, Des was trying to round up one of his hens. He’s got dozens of them all wandering around loose.

They’re ex-caged hens at the end of their productive life, but he says they still lay plenty of eggs and those that don’t just spend their days pecking around on the grass.

Anyway, this one had something caught round her leg and he just wanted to sort her out. We caught her in the end and he took me for a ploughman’s at the Ruddy Shepherd as a thank you.

He was asking after Molly. They’ve been friends for years. He said he hopes she’s

not staying in on her own. I told him you were taking good care of her.

Thursday.

Frank? Are you OK?

Friday.

Answer your phone, Frank! I walked all the way to the top of the hill to get a signal but no answer.

Saturday.

I hope you’ve not been worried, Grace. The fair’s here this week, so I took Molly. We went on all the rides and it was great until I caught my foot getting out of a dodgem car.

I’m fine. The leg’s just badly wrenched, so I’ve to take it easy for a while.

Molly’s been great, taking the dogs out for me, helping out. I’m taking her out for Sunday lunch tomorrow.

I can’t believe this first week has gone so quickly. How are you doing? Are you OK? How’s Des?

Monday.

Des is nice, Frank. You’d like him. I thought he was besotted with Molly, but they’re just good friends. Please don’t think I’m losing my head or anything, but Des and I have just sort of clicked. We’ve so much in common and he’s so kind.

We’re going to carry on seeing each other when this week is over. The countryside is a lot like the coast, really, it’s just a matter of getting used to it.

Tuesday.

I couldn’t be more pleased for you, sis. Molly’s said much the same about the sea. It seems that she and I have clicked, too – and the dogs adore her.

Wednesday.

I’m so happy for you! This holiday house swap was such a fantastic idea of yours. I love you, Frankie.

Love you, too, Gracie. I knew it would all work out in the end.