Читать книгу Summer at West Sands Guest House: A perfect feel good, uplifting romantic comedy - Maggie Conway - Страница 7

Molly opened one eye and groaned. She lay still while her body processed the miseries of her hangover; nausea, pounding head and a dry mouth. Slowly she opened the other eye to see a room full of unfamiliar shapes and shadows and it took her mind a moment to piece together where she was and the reason for her current fragile state.

She had enjoyed last night and it had been good to relax and chat with Anna but getting drunk on her first night probably hadn’t been the best idea. She remained motionless, listening for any sounds but thankfully the house was blissfully quiet. She wasn’t sure she could cope with noise right now.

Very slowly she sat up and looked around. Her bedroom was one of five in the house and situated at the back of the guest house. When she’d arrived yesterday, Luke had insisted on giving her a tour of the house. Stuart and Anna’s room was at the front of the house, a beautiful coastal themed room with duck-egg-blue walls and views of the sea. Another of the bedrooms was painted in pale green with a tartan armchair and a painting of the Cairngorms hanging over the fireplace.

Molly’s room was unashamedly feminine with decorative floral wallpaper and cream embroidered bedding. A ceramic lamp and a pot filled with sprigs of purple heather sat on a traditional wooden dressing table in front of the window.

It certainly had to be the prettiest room to have a hangover in, she thought ruefully. Gently peeling back the covers she swung her legs over the side of the bed, eyeing her bag still full of her clothes sitting in the corner of the room. There hadn’t really been time to unpack yesterday so that was a job for later. She narrowed her eyes against the daylight as she drew the curtains open. By the looks of the weather she had been right to treat herself to some new summer clothes.

When Molly had decided to sort through her summer wardrobe a few weeks ago, she had become painfully aware all the clothes had been chosen because she knew they would meet with Colin’s approval.

For the last couple of years, Colin had been very specific about the holidays they had taken. He had taken to lording it up in five-star resorts, lounging at the pool all day and dining in the best restaurants. Molly hadn’t always enjoyed that type of holiday – there were cities and places she dreamed of exploring – but she respected that Colin worked hard and needed his rest and relaxation. Priding himself on his skin being able to turn a particular shade of brown, the focus of the entire day had been rotating his sunbed to follow the sun and the only thing Colin wanted to explore after a hard day’s tanning was the bar’s cocktail list. Molly’s summer clothes, therefore, were suitable for either lounging at the pool during the day or dining in restaurants where the dress code dictated she squeeze herself into formal evening wear.

Gathering up all those clothes, she had folded them neatly into bags and taken them to the charity shop and then taken herself to the shops.

With only herself to please now, she’d indulged in a spree of floaty, casual and feminine clothes – ditsy skirts and flowery dresses, brightly coloured vest tops and shorts, flat sandals – a world away from the restrictive clothes she had poured herself into. She’d also taken the precaution of packing a few jackets and jumpers; this was Scotland, after all.

Feeling mildly better after a hot shower in the en-suite bathroom, she dressed in skinny jeans, a stripy blue and white T-shirt and her comfortable trainers. As she made her way downstairs, a message pinged on her phone explaining why the house was deserted. Stuart’s message said that he and Anna had taken the children off for the day to a nearby country park and that they’d bring home fish and chips for dinner. She baulked at the thought of food right now, but texted him back telling them to have a great day and that she’d see them later.

She wandered through the hall and into the front room. The cream walls were bathed in morning sunlight and two large sofas sat either side of a cast-iron fireplace. In one corner a shelved recess held a selection of board games and paperbacks for guests. Molly ran her finger along some of the titles reflecting on how much she liked being here in the guest house. Not just because it was so comfortable and stylish but because of its neutrality after the suffocating atmosphere she’d left behind in her own home. She liked that there were no reminders of Colin or their marriage. She felt free from the confines of her normal life and routines and that suited her. Spotting the title of a book she’d wanted to read for ages she made a mental note to come back for it later. A mug of tea and an early night suddenly sounded very appealing.

In the kitchen Molly saw the scattered remains of breakfast still in evidence and set about tidying up. She washed down the surfaces, wiping away splodges of jam and puddles of milk and put away a huge box of cereal. Once she had finished tidying, she found a glass and as she filled it with cold water, felt a pang of guilt, hoping Anna wasn’t feeling as bad as she did. She drank thirstily, thinking how much energy it took to have children. Not that she would mind of course. She knew there was a flip side to all the worry and hard work. There was the love and laughter, both things she hoped to have one day. She sighed, rinsing her glass, not prepared to let her thinking go down that route.

In the meantime, she had the day to herself. The urge to collapse on that lovely squashy sofa was tempting but outside the sunshine beckoned and Molly reckoned a good dose of sea air was just what she needed.

Within minutes she was walking along the cobbled streets, mingling with families and tourists and enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. The last time she’d been here was as a girl with her parents and now she absorbed her surroundings with new eyes. The quaint, charming town with its eclectic mix of shops and cafés made the city feel a million miles away.

Out of nowhere Colin zipped into her mind and she wondered what he was doing, if he was happy with his new life. The only communication between them had been the odd email about the divorce proceedings. How formal and final it all sounded.

She took a deep breath of fresh air, determined not to let thoughts of her ex-husband infiltrate her mind. Instead, she tried to allow a sense of tranquillity wash over her. She was here to think about the future, not the past. For today though, she simply wanted to explore and get a sense of her surroundings.

Heading towards the water she took a few moments to admire the fine grandeur of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club before continuing through the leafy medieval streets where many of the university buildings were housed. She walked through St Mary’s quadrangle, stopping to read the plaque by the decayed stump of a hawthorn tree which, according to legend, Mary Queen of Scots had planted on one of her many visits to the town. Molly smiled, knowing how much her brother was going to love this. The historical setting would be a dream for him.

She kept walking, following a path between the golf course and the beach which snaked along the coastline until it eventually started to turn inland. She crossed over a footbridge and then upwards through a wooded glen, pausing at a little burn trickling down the hill.

Molly enjoyed the peace and let her thoughts wander until she had to stop to catch her breath. Standing with her hands on her hips, she looked back the way she had come and although it afforded her a lovely view of the town, she realised she had walked much further than she had intended. She didn’t suppose the hangover was helping but she couldn’t blame that entirely for her current state which was now decidedly weak and wobbly. There was nothing like a good hike to show how unfit you were, she thought wryly, feeling the full impact of her recent car-reliant existence. With her slightly alarming heart rate and jelly legs, she promised herself there and then to try and improve her fitness.

Still, the pain was worth it because now she was surrounded by trees and lush greenery. It was so tranquil, almost like being in the middle of an enchanted forest. She was glad of the shade provided by the trees and wished she’d had the sense to bring water with her.

She noticed a path and, walking towards it, spotted a carved wooden sign announcing The Drumloch Inn lay ahead. Very fortuitously, the sign also indicated food and beverages being served all day. Molly, quite weak with fatigue and dehydration by now, felt herself sag with relief. The thought of a seat and drink sounded heavenly.

The inn, almost hidden by shrubs and trees, was a charmingly pretty two-storey stone building with wisteria growing up the walls. Baskets spilling over with purple fuchsias graced both sides of the double front door and, as she walked through them, Molly had the sense of being in a rather grand country house.

Inside, the floor was carpeted in tweed and the walls panelled in dark wood. A large vase of lilies sat on a mantelpiece above an open fireplace and a beautifully ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling.

Molly approached the small reception desk where a lady sat. Molly placed her to be in her sixties although her stylish bob and immaculate make-up gave her an ageless glamour.

‘Good morning, can I help you?’ the lady asked. Her glasses were perched on top of her head, reminding Molly of her own mother and her smile was so warm and genuine Molly immediately felt at ease.

‘Hello. I’m not a guest here but is it all right if I sit and have a drink. I saw the sign—’

‘Of course!’ the lady gushed. She stood up, knocking a sheaf of papers to the floor.

‘Sorry, I’m all fingers and thumbs today. We’ve got a new computer system installed and I’m still working my way through this manual…’ She gestured to the offending documents which she had now retrieved from the floor. Straightening up and looking slightly flustered, she smiled again. ‘Now, where were we? Come with me and I’ll show you where you can have a seat.’

Molly followed her through to a lounge area of seating in front of arched windows which looked out onto an expanse of rolling greenery. Molly took a seat on one of the sofas, grateful to be off her aching feet and was soon perusing the drinks menu that the lady had given her.

Molly ran her eye down the selection of drinks on offer, surprised and delighted by the choice; hand-pressed apple juice, traditional ginger beer, elderflower and cucumber or berry and mint refreshers. She eventually decided on a sparkling rhubarb and after a few minutes the lady returned with the drink in a tall glass, served on a little coaster with a serviette.

Molly took a drink and sat back with a sigh of appreciation. Feeling slightly conspicuous as the solitary customer, she glanced around. Tartan and gingham sofas, comfy chairs and dark wooden tables adorned with small vases of flowers created a relaxed, cosy ambience. There was another fireplace and a small brass-topped bar tucked discreetly in the corner.

After a while the lady came over to check if Molly needed anything else.

‘I’m Judy, the owner here. Do you mind if I join you for a little while?’

‘Not at all.’ Molly smiled, indicating the seat beside her. ‘I’m Molly Adams, it’s nice to meet you.’

The lady eased herself down gracefully onto the seat and Molly instantly sat up straighter.

‘How was your drink?’ she asked.

‘I really enjoyed it,’ Molly answered truthfully. ‘It was delicious and very refreshing.’

The lady tilted her head, looking pleased. ‘Thank you. It was one of my creations.’

‘You make the drinks yourself?’

‘I do. I source all the ingredients locally and then I have great fun concocting all the different flavours up.’

Molly was impressed.

‘I have an excellent local cook who comes in to do the evening meals and breakfast but drinks are my speciality,’ Judy explained. ‘I was a flight attendant and I think all those years serving up drinks to passengers must have rubbed off on me.’

‘Well, it was delicious,’ Molly reiterated.

‘Are you here on holiday?’

Molly explained about her brother coming to live in St Andrews with his family.

‘I’m sure they’ll be very happy here.’

Molly nodded in agreement and then admitted how she had stumbled on the inn by accident. ‘It’s such a lovely location here although I hadn’t realised I had walked so far.’

Judy pursed her lips. ‘We are a bit off the beaten track here. Which can be a good and bad thing. Once people find us, they love it and we have a lot of repeat business. Other times, being so far from the town can put people off.’

‘It’s a very romantic setting.’

‘It is, isn’t it? We only have six rooms – four doubles, one single and one family room so it’s mostly couples who book.’

‘How long have you owned it for?’

‘My husband and I bought this place six years ago. I was a flight attendant and he was a pilot and we fell very much in love and it was always our dream to own a place like this. We had ten very happy years together but unfortunately he passed away four years ago.’

‘I’m so sorry. That must be difficult for you.’

‘It can be.’ She gave a small smile. ‘But the business keeps me busy which is good. Especially now the golf school is open again.’ She nodded her towards the window.

Molly gazed out of the window and only now did it dawn on her she had in fact been looking out at a golf course. In the far distance Molly could make out a flag marking one of the course’s holes.

‘That’s a golf course over there?’

‘Yes, that’s Drumloch golf course and though you can’t see through the trees, there’s a golf school and range as well.’

Molly perked up with interest.

‘It was run down for a while,’ Judy continued. ‘But it’s recently been bought over by two golf professionals and I know they’ve got plans for the place.’

‘I might take a walk over and have a look.’

‘Do you play golf?’ Judy asked.

‘I used to play a bit with my father,’ she replied. ‘What about you, do you play?’

‘Me? Goodness, no. Never understood the mystery of chasing a white ball about,’ she laughed. ‘Although George played and always wanted me to learn so we could play together.’

‘Well, I should probably get going,’ Molly said, conscious she had the return walk to undertake.

‘Why don’t you go and have a look at the golf course now?’ Judy suggested.

Molly hesitated.

‘It really is only a few minutes’ walk. When you leave here, turn right and you’ll see a tree-lined path. Just follow it and when you come to a little picnic area with a couple of wooden tables, you’re practically there.’

‘How much do I owe you?’ Molly asked, getting to her feet.

‘On the house,’ Judy insisted. ‘I’ve enjoyed meeting you and it’s been lovely to have a little chat.’

‘Thank you, I’ve enjoyed it too,’ Molly replied, surprised by how easy she had found talking to the older lady. Outside in the sunshine again and feeling rejuvenated, Molly debated with herself whether to go and check out the golf school now or come back another day.

When she had known she was coming to St Andrews Molly had dug out her set of clubs languishing in the attic collecting dust. Now she hoped to have some practice at one of the ranges and maybe persuade her brother to have a game.

Both her parents had played but it had been her father in particular who had passed on his love of the game to Molly. When she’d been a little girl, Molly hadn’t been interested in dance classes, swimming or any of the other activities on offer but had taken to hitting the ball. One day her dad had taken her to a range and she could still recall the look of surprise on his face when, with apparent ease, she smacked a ball a hundred yards down the middle of the fairway. After that, she was his caddy whenever possible and when she was older she played with him at their local club.

Her father was a quiet, thoughtful man and not one to talk much but it became their thing to do together and some of her happiest memories were of the two of them on the course together. She sighed thinking of those times. Sometimes the simplest things really were the best.

At this time of year Molly knew all the golf facilities in town would be busy which was why this location was so appealing. She could see the little path now. Overhung with trees and surrounded by wildflowers, it almost seemed to beckon her. Molly made an instant decision – she was this close, she may as well check it out.

After a few minutes she passed the picnic area that Judy had mentioned and then the golf school came into view – a modern, timber frame building with dark wood cladding.

To one side Molly could see the practice range which consisted of a row of covered bays and to the other side was a small putting green. Further away and set amidst the rolling hills, she could see the golf course perched on the rocky shores of the bay with the North Sea as its backdrop. The sun beamed down and sparkled on the water below and Molly took a moment to appreciate the rugged beauty of her surroundings.

She pushed the door open into a reception area which was basically a large room with a few doors leading off it. There was a small counter and a couple of chairs beside a table with a few golf magazines scattered on top.

A tall, gangly boy aged about twenty wearing a tracksuit came bounding over, introduced himself as Kenny and asked how he could help.

‘I’d like to come the range one day,’ Molly told him. ‘Do I need to book in advance?’

The boy shook his head. ‘You can turn up any time – but it’s empty right now if you’d like to play, I can get you set up?

Molly hesitated for a heartbeat and then decided why not? A little surge of excitement shot through her, it had been so long since she’d played or practised.

The boy helped to get the bucket full of golf balls and, as she didn’t have her own clubs with her, gave her a selection of practice clubs to choose from. After thanking him, Molly made her way to the furthest away bay.

It felt odd to be holding a golf club again. She rolled her neck and loosened her shoulders before she started, her father’s voice in her head. Straight back, knees flexed and head steady.

She took a few tentative shots to warm up, some more successful than others. Molly knew that playing golf wasn’t like riding a bike. If you didn’t practice, you lost the feel for it. And that was why she wanted to try and use this time because she knew she could be a fairly decent player and with that came confidence – something she was sorely lacking at the moment.

It all came back to her why she loved it so much. The focus it required, the satisfaction of striking the ball. Soon she was enjoying herself, getting into her stride and finding that hitting the ball was quite therapeutic. Considering she had a hangover and it was a few years since she’d hit a ball, she was feeling quite pleased with herself.

After several minutes of hitting the ball Molly heard a door opening and glanced up to see a man coming through one of the doors. Disappointed her solitude had been broken and not relishing the prospect of an audience, she kept her head down hoping he would go away. She lined up her next ball and for some unfathomable reason gave her hips a little wiggle in an attempt to look casual.

Swinging the club perhaps a little too enthusiastically, she caught the edge of the ball with an almighty thwack and watched helplessly as it ricocheted off the roof and rebounded hitting her on the head.

‘Ouch!’

Molly stood stunned for a moment, hoping it had sounded worse than it was. She brought her fingers to her head but apart from a small lump forming there didn’t seem to be any other damage.

Out the corner of her eye, Molly could see her little commotion had caused the man to look up. Silently willing for him not to come over she kept her head down, but it was too late – he was already making his way towards her.

‘Are you all right?’

Molly looked up upon hearing the deep voice.

‘Mmm? Oh, yes I’m fine.’ She managed a little laugh but couldn’t stop a furious blush flooding her cheeks. They regarded one another for a moment and Molly’s heart dipped as she recognised the driver who’d made the emergency stop for her and Anna last night. She cringed inwardly, dropping her gaze. She decided ignorance was the best plan and just hoped he wouldn’t recognise her.

‘Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need someone to look at your head?’ he asked looking at her with concern.

‘No, honestly. I didn’t feel a thing,’ she lied, beginning to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

‘Have you been to a golf range before?’

Molly frowned. ‘Lots of times actually,’ she replied defensively, not liking the feeling he was assessing her in some way.

‘Try to take care then, we don’t want anyone hurting themselves.’

Molly bristled that his concern was now bordering on admonishment and wished he’d just go away. Perhaps sensing her irritation, he managed to impart a perfunctory smile. Something about his manner was distinctly reserved, almost as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to be there. Or worse, didn’t want her to be there. She hoped he wasn’t one of the sexist ignoramuses who thought women shouldn’t play golf because if he was she might just swing the club in his direction. Molly was just wondering exactly who he was when he introduced himself.

‘I’m Tom Kennedy, one of the golf professionals here.’

So that explained his concern. He was probably making sure she wasn’t going to make some sort of injury claim. And knowing he was a professional sportsman certainly explained his physique and healthy, outdoorsy look. He held out a hand for her to shake, her hand feeling tiny in his large, firm grip.

‘I’m Molly Adams.’

‘As long as you’re all right, then,’ he said gruffly.

Even in her slightly inebriated state last night, some part of Molly’s brain had registered the handsome driver as he passed. Sober and up close her assessment was the same. In fact, he was very handsome, she observed now, her eyes taking in his piercing blue eyes, short dark hair and square jaw. He was tall with powerful-looking shoulders and Molly felt a ripple of attraction run through her. Clearly the alcohol was still fizzing its way through her system.

Seemingly reassured she wasn’t about to pass out he took a step back and leaned against the partition board, his large frame filling the small space. Molly’s eyes drifted to his tanned forearms and swallowed hard.

‘Are you here on holiday in St Andrews?’

She nodded. ‘My brother and his family have taken a guest house for the summer so I’m staying with them for a few weeks.’

‘Do you play much golf?’ he asked.

Molly got the sense he was trying to appear friendly but it wasn’t coming easily to him. If he was one of the new owners he might want to brush up on his people skills.

‘I was captain for my local club’s girls’ team and I’ve played some great courses actually.’

She saw his eyebrow arch in surprise. Great, next she’d be saying she was best friends with Tiger Woods. ‘I mean I’ve never played seriously or anything and I haven’t played for ages so obviously I’m out of practice,’ she back-tracked desperately, suddenly finding her feet fascinating to look at. Reluctantly she dragged her gaze up, detecting the tiniest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

‘Are you planning on any more golf while you’re here?’

‘Hopefully. Just some practice at the range. See if I can drag my brother out for a game.’ Molly wondered if he was really interested or just going through the motions.

‘It’s a good course here at Drumloch and it’s only nine holes which is ideal if you haven’t played for a while.’

‘Um, sure, thanks. That’s good to know.’

He shifted his weight from one leg to another and Molly detected an almost indiscernible discomfort as he did so. She sensed a suppressed energy from him, something she couldn’t put her finger on and despite herself she felt her curiosity piqued by the man with the intense eyes standing in front of her. She gave herself a shake, deciding it was definitely time for her to go.

‘I should be leaving,’ she said, beginning to gather her things.

‘You really are okay? You’re not hurt?’ he checked again.

‘Definitely not hurt, thanks.’

He looked at her while running a hand across the back of his neck, appearing slightly awkward. ‘Hope to see you again then.’

Molly smiled though doubted he meant that. She turned and walked away, noticing her hangover had totally disappeared.