‘Betty, Verity, Verity, Betty.’ Clemmie introduced them with a smile.

  ‘I was so worried you wouldn’t remember my granny after all these years.’

  ‘Remember her? Hetty was my best friend for the summer, and even worked here in the tearoom. She rented a room upstairs.’

  ‘No way! She was here for a whole summer?’

  ‘Yes, and I was so sad when she went home. There are times in life when you just click with someone and I clicked instantly with your granny. The adventures we shared that summer…’ Betty gave a little chuckle. ‘I bet she’s told you all about what we got up to. How is she? Does she know you’re here?’

  Clemmie looked towards Verity. Apparently she hadn’t shared the news of Hetty’s death.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that my grandmother has passed away. It was over twelve years ago now.’

  The smile slipped from Betty’s face. ‘Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that.’ She swallowed. ‘Come on through to the back room. Are you okay to carry on tidying up?’ she asked Clemmie.

  ‘Of course. I’ll bring you through a pot of tea, and there are a couple of slices of Victoria sponge left.’

  Betty nodded her thanks and led the way to the living quarters of the cottage. ‘I can see your granny standing behind that counter. She turned up that summer and wanted a job.’

  ‘This looks just like a normal cottage back here.’

  ‘It is a normal cottage, except that the front room was turned into a tearoom many moons ago.’

  It actually wasn’t too dissimilar to Sam’s cottage, old-fashioned as it was, with its oak-beamed ceiling. Blue velvet settees were positioned in an L shape in front of the open fireplace along with an oversized rug and a coffee table. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase was rammed with books, and a sage-coloured dresser was covered with framed photographs.

  ‘Take a seat. So, are you following in your granny’s footsteps? Are you staying for the summer?’

  ‘This time last week I didn’t even know Puffin Island was a real place, even though I’d visited it many times as a child.’

  ‘I’m confused,’ said Betty.

  ‘My granny used to tell me bedtime stories about this place, including your teashop, but I always thought it was fictional. She described it exactly how it is,’ Verity said, looking around, ‘which amazed me when I arrived – and is still amazing me, to be honest.’

  Clemmie walked in just then with a tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of them.

  ‘Look at that vintage teapot! It’s so pretty,’ said Verity admiringly.

  ‘Vintage like my grandma and pretty like me,’ teased Clemmie, missing a playful swipe from Betty as she walked past. Grinning, she shut the door behind her.

  Betty poured the tea and handed Verity a slice of cake. ‘How did you realise we all existed in real life?’

  Verity shared how she’d found the postcard.

  ‘What an amazing story. How much do you know about your granny’s time here?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing. All I know is she spoke very fondly about this place, but the postcard suggests that there was some sort of secret between Joe and Granny. And I know my granny never forgot him because there’s been a picture of puffins hanging on the wall in her living room for years, which is signed at the back in the same handwriting as the postcard by “W”, which must have been Joe.’

  Betty was quiet for a moment and Verity knew she was unsure how much she should share with her.

  ‘I feel like I’m breaking a confidence,’ admitted Betty.

  ‘I understand, really I do, but you’re the only person who can answer my questions about my granny’s time here.’

  Betty took a sip of tea and smiled. ‘I can still remember her laugh. It was a very distinctive laugh, a proper laugh right from her belly. And that smile of hers had all the boys falling over her. She arrived here for the summer after an argument with her boyfriend at the time – Alf.’

  ‘Alf was my granddad. Can you remember what their argument was about?’

  Betty was quiet for a second.

  ‘Please, Betty, I need to know.’

  ‘Alf had proposed to your grandmother, but Hetty wasn’t a hundred per cent sure. They’d been together since the age of eleven and his proposal made her wonder if there was more to life than what she knew. From what she told me, the pressure from both families was immense, and she didn’t want to let anyone down. She just wanted to make the right decision.

  ‘The proposal took place in front of both families. I remembered she told me Alf had gathered everyone together, and Hetty felt like she couldn’t say no in front of them all. So she said yes and everyone danced the night away at the local church hall. The next morning, she told Alf she’d felt pressured and wanted more than settling down straightaway, she wanted to visit places and see things. Alf was hurt, and didn’t understand. He said that wasn’t what you do in life and told Hetty to stop daydreaming. The row escalated and then Hetty spotted an advert in a newspaper for a singer at a club in Sea’s End. Before she knew it, she’d taken flight and ended up here, trying to work out exactly what she wanted. I can still remember the day she walked into the tearoom, which was owned by my mother at the time. She had this funny little accent, quite posh, and was wearing a fur coat and denim shorts and had legs like a giraffe. Her hair was curled and bounced above the shoulders and her crimson lips could be seen from the other side of the harbour. She stood in the doorway smoking a cigarette. You should have seen my mother’s face when she clocked Hetty. I thought she was about to have a heart attack!’ Betty laughed. ‘You’d never guess how my mother greeted her.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘“Movie star or hooker?”’

  Verity gasped. ‘Your mother never said that.’

  ‘Oh, she did. My mother never held back. She was well known on the island for her straight talking. Your grandmother replied, “Movie star” but said she was out of work and needed a job.’

  ‘What happened to the singing job?’

  ‘By the time she’d arrived at Sea’s End the job had been filled, so Hetty hitched a lift across the causeway to see what the island was all about. Once here, she decided to stay. She took a trial shift, my mother hired her for the summer, she rented a room here and we became the best of friends. There was never a dull moment with Hetty. I thought we’d be friends for ever and was completely heartbroken when she left and disappeared from my life as quickly as she came into it. But I never forgot her.’

  ‘Where did she disappear to?’

  ‘I’m assuming she’d got whatever she needed to out of her system and went back home to marry Alf. In fact, she never said goodbye. I remember that day so clearly. It was early evening and I went up to her room to see what she was going to wear on our night out, but she was gone. Her bed was made, her suitcase and belongings no longer there. I was hoping she’d simply gone to stay with Joe, who was besotted with her.’

  ‘Tell me all about my granny and Joe,’ insisted Verity.

  ‘Your granny sang her way into his heart. We were at The Olde Ship Inn and The Men from Puffin Island were performing that night.’

  ‘Sam told me your husband Eric was part of the band.’

  Betty nodded. ‘He was the drummer, but we weren’t married at that time. That came a few years later. There was also John, who played keyboard, and Pete. After the band had played, we got a lock-in at the pub. Of course, I was allowed to stay as Eric was my boyfriend, and that’s when I introduced Hetty to everyone. They all began messing around with their instruments and Hetty took to the microphone. Your granny had a set of lungs on her, let me tell you. She belted out a song and blew everyone’s socks off. The whole band was mesmerised. If I could pinpoint the moment Joe fell completely in love with her, that would be it. But Hetty was in a quandary, as she was still trying to figure out how she was feeling about everything back home. She knew Alf wouldn’t wait around for ever and if she stayed away too long there was a possibility her family would disown her. Hetty left me a letter saying goodbye and thanking me and my mum for everything we’d done for her that summer⁠—’

  ‘And the secret mentioned in the postcard message? What do you think that was about?’ Verity blurted, unable to stop herself.

  ‘I think it may have just been the fact they had a summer romance. Hetty may also have confided in Joe about Alf and the situation back home.’ Betty swallowed, her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. ‘I really missed her after she’d left, and she honestly couldn’t have picked a worse time to leave. I could have really done with her friendship because…’ Betty paused. ‘It was the same evening that Joe passed away.’

  Verity gave a tiny gasp. ‘Oh Betty, that must have been awful for you.’

  Betty nodded. ‘It was awful for everyone. I lost two people I really loved on the same day. I was never sure if your granny knew about Joe’s death. I’m assuming she would have found out as it was reported in the newspapers, but she didn’t get in touch, so I was never certain. Hetty was someone special, and a breath of fresh air around this place.’ Betty reached for a tissue from the box on the table and dabbed her eyes. ‘Look at me, a daft old woman getting emotional. I honestly thought one day she would breeze back through the tearoom door…and now she’s gone…and we’ll never have the chance to speak again. Still, at least I got to meet you.’

  ‘It sounds like when she chose to go back to my grandfather, she had to try and put that summer behind her and throw herself into married life, but I can tell you she never forgot this place. That summer meant a lot to her.’ Verity rummaged in her bag. ‘Here, have a look at the postcard.’

  Betty took the postcard, and smiled at the puffins. ‘Hetty was obsessed with the puffins. She would wander up to the cliff top and sit on the bench, watching them for hours.’ Betty turned the postcard over. For a second, Verity thought she noticed a flicker of uncertainty flash across Betty’s eyes.

  ‘Who else knows about this postcard?’ asked Betty.

  ‘Clemmie, Amelia and Sam…and now you.’

  Betty nodded. ‘Can we keep it that way for now?’

  ‘Any particular reason why?’ probed Verity.

  ‘I’m just thinking with Joe’s vigil coming up… I think it’s best for now. Trust me.’ Betty gave Verity a strange look. Verity was convinced that Betty was holding something back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Verity was sitting outside her van, the sausages sizzling on the camping stove giving off the most wonderful aroma. They would be delicious with the crusty bread Verity had picked up from Beachcomber Bakery and she couldn’t wait to tuck into her evening meal. After turning the sausages over in the pan, she sat in the camping chair staring out over the sea while thinking about everything that Betty had shared with her. Maybe there was nothing more to her granny’s visit than a young, confused woman who wasn’t sure what she wanted from her future. Verity was certain that her granny would have known about Joe’s death if it had made the newspapers. Betty had told her that Joe had received an SOS call saying a man had been taken by the rip current, and he had dived straight in to rescue him without a thought for his own safety. She felt for her granny, who may well have grieved over Joe’s loss in silence, though at the same time relieved that her secret summer romance would never be revealed.

  Verity had concluded that the summer romance was indeed the secret referred to in the postcard and that her granny had probably confided in Joe about her situation at home. Verity was also convinced that her granny must have broken Joe’s heart when she told him she was heading back home, and Joe must have sent the postcard just before his accident.

  Suddenly hearing the sound of music on the light breeze, Verity sat up and listened. Someone on the cliff top was strumming a guitar and singing softly. Verity followed the sound, which led her to the back garden of Cliff Top Cottage, where Pete was sitting on a chair overlooking the sea. Verity perched on a nearby rock and listened. After he finished, he gave the guitar one last strum and then balanced it against his chair and tilted his face towards the sky.

  ‘No wonder you were offered a record contract. That was absolutely breathtaking. Your voice is unique.’ She held out her arm. ‘You’ve given me goosebumps.’

  Pete spun around, his eyes full of tears.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you but when I heard you singing and playing I had to come over. I’m sure I’ve heard that song before, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it’s called.’

  ‘You won’t know the song. I wrote it many years ago and I’ve never sung it in public.’

  ‘It was beautiful, so heartfelt.’ Verity came over and sat next to him. ‘I think you should sing more. I could sit and listen to you all night.’

  ‘These days I only sing for me.’

  ‘Why? You’re so talented! People are missing out. You’ve still got what it takes.’

  ‘That’s kind of you to say so, but I’m not sure at my age I do anymore. I think I’m a little long in the tooth and my sex appeal disappeared a long time ago.’ Pete gave a little chuckle.

  ‘Women swoon over a man with a guitar who can sing, no matter how old he is,’ Verity rushed to reassure him, though her words immediately made her think of Sam. The night he’d sung in the pub she’d been in awe, unable to take her eyes off him.

  ‘Maybe,’ he smiled, ‘but I’ve never sung in public since…’

  ‘Joe,’ Verity finished off his sentence.

  He nodded. ‘It just didn’t feel right. The rest of the band talked about what we should do at the time. The record company didn’t retract the contract – in fact, we could have still gone on tour – but it just didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to leave Puffin Island. It would never have been the same without Joe. I was always used to having him at our side. It was fun and we were a gang. I wasn’t born to be a solo artist.’ There was a sadness in his voice. ‘But let’s not be maudlin. There were times when we had too much fun,’ he admitted, a wicked glint in his eye.

  ‘I can imagine!’

  Pete laughed. ‘When we first started out, we played to no one. We’d turn up to a working men’s club or a pub and the room was empty, or the pub would be packed but they weren’t there for us and people took no notice of us. We’d finish the set without even a clap or a cheer. But as they say, it’s character-building.’

  ‘When did you start to get noticed?’

  Pete smiled and pointed over to the lighthouse. ‘The lighthouse became famous before we did. The number of lives it saved was phenomenal. A company over in Sea’s End decided to organise one of those sexy calendars to raise money for lifeboats, and needed models. Joe saw the advert in the local newspaper and signed us up because he got wind that the national newspapers would be turning up to report on the story. We got the gig along with some other applicants and we got allocated a month of the year.’

  ‘Let me guess, The Men from Puffin Island were either February…or possibly December?’

  ‘February for Valentines, but there was a method to Joe’s madness. He’d decided what we needed was publicity and his plan was to hijack the shoot and play a couple of songs outside the lighthouse when the national newspapers arrived. What Joe failed to tell the rest of the band was that they wanted the calendar models to pose naked. We were stripped off and given items to cover our modesty. When Joe gave the signal we picked up our guitars and before we knew it we were playing naked outside the lighthouse. The news coverage we got…’ Pete whistled. ‘Believe me when I say that the next gig we played was packed to the rafters and that’s no exaggeration.’

  Verity threw her head back and laughed. ‘Joe had good business acumen.’

  ‘We forgave him, even though the photographs for the calendar were taken in the middle of November. It was minus four, the wind from the sea was icy and we all nearly froze to death!’

  ‘But it got you noticed.’

  ‘It got us noticed all right and the ferry company couldn’t thank us enough. Their tickets went through the roof from teenage girls trying to get to Puffin Island, and all the B&Bs in Sea’s End and on the island were constantly full.’

  ‘Win, win. It sounds like you all had a blast and I bet you broke some hearts.’

  Pete was thoughtful for a second, and by the look on his face he’d been transported somewhere else entirely. ‘Possibly,’ he replied, looking over his shoulder. ‘Can you smell that? Someone is cooking.’

  Verity sprung to her feet. ‘Damn, I forgot my sausages! Got to go,’ she called over her shoulder, practically sprinting back to her van. ‘Lovely talking to you!’ she shouted. Swiftly lifting the pan off the camping stove she stared disappointedly at the charcoaled sausages.

  ‘You’ll be okay with some ketchup. Maybe a lot of ketchup,’ she murmured, cutting the bread and attempting to slice the cremated sausages in half with a blunt knife.

  Sitting down on the chair with the plate balanced on her knee, she dug in. The sausages were just about bearable when swilled down with a glass of wine.

  Ten minutes later she noticed an outside water tap at the garage, filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. She squirted washing-up liquid in the sausage pan, knowing it was going to take some cleaning. She was definitely glamping with no glamour now. As she scrubbed, she could still hear Pete strumming his guitar. She smiled at the story of the calendar and briefly wondered if the picture of the band in the buff was still floating around somewhere. From the other images she’d seen on the internet, they had been a group of very handsome men.

  Pete was singing the same song and, even though he had been adamant that he’d never sung it in public, Verity knew she’d heard it before. She just couldn’t place where.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The evening coastal breeze was getting a little chilly and Verity was sitting outside her van with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a book resting on her lap. She couldn’t concentrate on the words though, and had read the same paragraph over and over again. She was thinking about Sam, and then the conversation with Betty. Even though she’d promised Betty she wouldn’t say anything about the postcard, she’d been tempted to ask Pete if he remembered her granny. Surely, if she’d spent time with Joe and sung with them, he wasn’t likely to forget her? And maybe he’d have stories about her granny he could share. But Betty had lived on the island a long time and she probably knew best, especially with the vigil coming up.