Summer Nights at The Starfish Café: The uplifting, romantic read from Jessica Redland

1

HOLLIE

‘I’m going to bring out Betty’s birthday cake,’ I whispered to Kerry and Avril, who were topping up the salt and pepper shakers behind The Starfish Café’s serving counter. ‘Have you got your singing voices ready?’

They both gave me a smile and a subtle thumbs up.

Avril followed me into the kitchen to retrieve the bouquet of sunflowers – Betty’s favourites – while I added the candles onto the eighty-fifth birthday cake. I’d made and iced a two-tier sponge cake but had asked Carly from Carly’s Cupcakes in town to make decorative sunflowers and a yellow eight and five.

‘Betty’s going to love that,’ Avril said. ‘And so will Tommy.’

Betty and Tommy were longstanding favourite customers at The Starfish Café, which was set on a clifftop two miles south of the popular North Yorkshire seaside town of Whitsborough Bay. It was a family business which had passed down from my granny to Mum to me. All the staff adored Betty and Tommy, who came in most days for tea and scones. As today was Betty’s birthday, they’d been joined by another favourite customer, Sylvia, and her friend Dorothy.

Candles lit, I slowly shuffled out of the kitchen.

‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…’

My heart glowed as other customers joined in, a slight mumble over the name from those who didn’t know her.

‘Oh, my goodness, darling girl!’ Betty gushed as I placed the cake in front of her. ‘I wasn’t expecting this.’

Her eyes sparkled and I glanced at Tommy, who pressed his hand to his heart and mouthed ‘thank you’ to me.

‘Blow the candles out and make a wish,’ I said to Betty.

She smiled and winked at me before blowing them out to a round of applause. Avril handed her the bouquet of flowers and she breathed in the scent.

‘Thank you all so very much. What a lovely birthday surprise!’

Kerry, efficient as always, already had a knife, plates and forks ready so, while she cut and I dished the slices out, Avril took the flowers back to the kitchen to keep in water.

‘You’ve made them so happy,’ Kerry said as we watched the four of them finishing their cake amid much laughter a little later. ‘You make everyone happy here.’

‘Aw, that’s such a lovely thing to say. Thank you.’

‘I mean it. What you’ve created here – for the staff and the customers – is really special. I’m so lucky I landed a job here.’

‘We’re lucky to have you,’ I said. ‘You do realise you can never leave?’

She smiled. ‘No intention of ever doing so. I’m already thinking about how much I’m going to miss it during the school holidays. Five more weeks to go.’

Kerry was a single parent with four primary school-aged children, and the Monday to Friday 10.30 a.m. till 2.30 p.m. term-time-only shift couldn’t be more ideal for her. It gave me extra cover across the busiest time of the day and wasn’t a problem during school holidays because I had several students eager for the work.

A bit later, I returned to Betty and Tommy’s table to clear the plates and take the cake away to be boxed up for home.

‘You must all take a slice,’ Betty insisted. ‘Get one for Jake and Avril’s husband and save one for Angie when she’s back in tomorrow. Oh, and get Kerry to take one home for her mum and each of those lovely children of hers.’

‘You’ll have none left for you two at this rate.’

‘We’ve already had four slices and we’ve barely made a dent. There’ll be plenty left.’

‘That’s very kind of you, Betty. Thank you.’

‘Are you all set for Saturday?’ Sylvia asked.

My heart leapt with excitement, as it did any time anyone mentioned the wedding. After nearly a year of planning, I could hardly believe there were only four more sleeps until I’d say ‘I do’ to Jake.

‘Just about. I picked up the dresses last week, Jake and I are finalising the details with our photographer tonight, and I’m making the favours on Thursday.’

‘The Bay Pavilion is such a lovely venue for a wedding,’ Betty said. ‘It’s going to be a wonderful day. How’s the forecast looking?’

‘Very good, so we should be able to have the ceremony outside in Pavilion Court.’

The Bay Pavilion, just beyond the commercial part of South Bay, was the most amazing building. Originally opened in the 1840s, the function and concert venue had been extended over the years. I’d attended several events there and loved it, but the biggest selling point for our wedding was Pavilion Court. The large outdoor area had a curved ‘wall’ of windows providing a stunning panoramic view of the coastline. A bandstand in the middle of the ‘wall’ acted as the altar during a wedding ceremony and Jake and I loved the idea of making our vows with the sea as our backdrop. It was the closest we’d get to having our families with us in spirit.

‘I love weddings,’ Dorothy said, giving me a warm smile. ‘I’m so looking forward to Saturday.’

I headed into the kitchen to cut off some slices of cake and box up what was left, then followed them out to the car park. Sylvia and Dorothy wished me all the best with the final wedding preparations then headed off in Sylvia’s car with a wave.

‘Thank you again for the cake and flowers, Hollie,’ Betty said, hugging me. ‘You really are the sweetest.’

‘You’re welcome. Enjoy the rest of your birthday. I hope you have plans to spoil her, Tommy.’

Betty answered for him. ‘He spoils me every day just by being himself.’

The look of love they exchanged brought tears to my eyes.

‘Did I ever tell you we met on Betty’s seventeenth birthday?’ Tommy asked. ‘She went to the picture house with some friends and I was there with my brother. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Missed the film. And she’s just as beautiful today as she was back then. Monday’s child – fair of face.’

Betty laughed. ‘That rhyme’s nonsense and you know it because you were born on a Wednesday and that would make you full of woe.’

She turned to me. ‘He makes me laugh every single day. There’s nothing woeful about my Tommy.’

‘There certainly isn’t,’ I said, ‘but I do agree with fair of face for you. You’re a beautiful woman, Betty.’

‘As are you, darling girl, and I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress on Saturday. You’ll be the finest bride there ever was.’

‘Hear, hear!’ Tommy said.

I hugged my arms round myself, feeling all warm and fuzzy as they drove away. They’d celebrated sixty-six years of marriage in February and if anyone wanted to know what enduring true love looked like, they need look no further – amazing role models for a happy marriage.

I looked up at the pine trees which surrounded the café and car park, giving the place an alpine feel and inspiring the log cabin-style exterior of the two-storey building. It was the last day of spring today and the colours seemed more vibrant, the bird song louder, the sun warmer on my face and arms, as though nature was displaying a grand finale for spring and a fanfare for the arrival of summer.

Lunchtime customers would start arriving soon but there was time for five minutes of peace first. I sat on one of the picnic benches near the steps down to the beach, watching a grey squirrel running up a tree trunk, and a couple of blue tits pecking at a feeder. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the sounds of nature relax me.

With the café thriving and me marrying the man of my dreams this weekend, life was looking really good right now. And about time. I’d been dealt more than my fair share of heartbreak, as had Jake. I’d lost my dad and brother, both RNLI crew members, during a rescue on a stormy night just after Christmas eight years ago, and Mum had lost her battle with cancer a year later. Jake’s mum had died when he was born and his dad when he was nine, and we’d both struggled in the years that followed. We’d come a long way in coming to terms with our grief by the time we met, but had taken several further steps together.

And then a different type of disaster had hit when the café was broken into and completely trashed a little over a year ago.

The sound of a car engine made me open my eyes. Time to get back to work. I stood up, brushed off my jeans, and took one last look out at the sea beyond the café.

‘We want only positive things from now on, please,’ I whispered into the gentle breeze. ‘That would be lovely.’

2

KERRY

One of the many things I loved about working for Hollie was that, no matter how busy it was when 2.30 p.m. arrived, she’d shoo me out of the door with reassurances that she and my colleagues could handle things, ensuring I was never late for the school pick-up.

This morning had been fairly quiet but there’d been a constant stream of customers since lunchtime, leaving very few tables free, including on the large terrace outside. We’d had a couple of damp weeks, but the last day of spring had brought gorgeous blue sky and sunshine, enticing all the fair-weather walkers out.

I grabbed a tray to clear a couple of recently vacated tables before I left, but Hollie took it off me.

‘Oh no, you don’t! It’s half two. Off you go, and don’t forget your cake.’

I gave her an appreciative smile as I untied my apron. ‘Thank you.’

Outside a couple of minutes later, I loaded my bag and the cake into the boot of my car. A trio of three women climbed up the last few steps from the beach and headed up the car park. I couldn’t let them bypass the café.

‘Big climb, isn’t it?’ I called to the group.

They laughed as they agreed.

‘You know what you need now? Tea and a scone or a piece of cake. Everything in The Starfish Café is freshly made on site and mouth-wateringly delicious and, let’s face it, you’ve earned it after that climb. And the terrace is open with the most spectacular view up and down the coast.’

‘Are you on commission?’ one of them asked, laughing.

‘Just someone with a passion for home cooking and stunning views.’

They thanked me for the recommendation and, after a brief discussion, changed direction towards the café. I drove away, feeling proud that I’d introduced three more customers who, if they were local, would hopefully return and spread the word.

I meant what I’d said earlier to Hollie about how lucky I was to work there. I’d started in January four years ago and loved everything about it – Hollie, my colleagues, the customers, the location, the food and the convenient hours. When I’d applied for the job, I didn’t think I’d stood a chance as I had no experience of working in a café or restaurant. Fortunately, Hollie viewed my time as a hotel receptionist as transferrable customer service experience and took a chance on me. She frequently complimented me on how good I was with customers and my ability to convince them to make an extra purchase like a tray bake ‘for the road’, so I knew she valued me as much as I valued the job.

‘Mummy!’ My youngest daughter, six-year-old Freya, ran across the playground as soon as she saw me, abandoning her twin brother, Jayden.

‘I have a poorly!’ She lifted the skirt of her lilac and white gingham school dress, revealing a Dora the Explorer plaster across her right knee.

‘Aw, sweetie, what happened?’ I asked, crouching down to give her a cuddle.

‘I fell over at morning playtime.’

‘I put a wet paper towel on it,’ Jayden declared proudly as he joined us in his grey shorts and white polo shirt.

‘He made me better.’ Freya flung her arms round her twin and kissed his cheek, making my heart melt. The pair of them had very different personalities and did a lot of things independently, but they were fiercely protective of each other.

Eight-year-old Noah sauntered across the playground with his purple school sweater slung round his neck, followed by my eldest, eleven-year-old Maisie, who was growing up far too fast. She refused to wear a gingham dress – apparently too babyish for someone in their final year at primary school. Where had the years gone?

They talked over each other as we weaved our way back to the car and I didn’t catch any of it, but I’d get the detail later on the way to or from their various clubs. Every day after school, there was something on, but Tuesdays were the most chaotic. Freya and Jayden had ballet and gymnastics, Maisie went to Junior Sea Cadets and Noah, who I swear was half-fish, went to swimming club. It would be impossible to manage the logistics on my own, so Mum took Noah swimming and I spent the evening ferrying the other three all over town. Maisie had christened it ‘Trippy Tuesday’ because of the number of trips I had to make and it had caught on. Although the speed at which she was growing up terrified me, I couldn’t help looking forward to the day we could laugh together about the real meaning of ‘trippy’.

Fitting in all the clubs and activities was exhausting but I didn’t begrudge them a single moment of it. I didn’t need a social life – my friendships with my lovely colleagues at The Starfish Café were enough – and I certainly wasn’t interested in another romantic relationship after how badly their father let us all down.

‘Another Trippy Tuesday survived.’ Mum smiled as she placed a jacket potato and salad in front of me just after 9.00 p.m. and sat opposite me at the table in the kitchen-diner at Park Lodge – formerly my grandparents’ B&B and now our family home.

‘Just about!’ I said. ‘How was Howard?’

Mum’s face lit up, as it always did when his name was mentioned. They’d met through Noah’s swimming club, which Howard’s grandson also attended, and had been a couple for about a year now, but they were so in tune with each other that it seemed like they’d been together for decades.

‘He’s good. Looking forward to a day with the kids on Saturday.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mind? It’s a lot to ask.’

‘Of course I don’t mind! I get to spend some quality time with my gorgeous grandchildren – always a good thing – and it makes me happy knowing you’re getting some time to yourself for once. You know I worry about you.’

‘There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got the kids, you, and a job I love. That’s all I need.’

She raised her eyebrows at me.

‘Seriously, Mum. I don’t want or need a man in my life. Been there, done that, got the broken heart.’

I shovelled in a forkful of fluffy potato.

‘But you’re only thirty-one. Not all men are like Cameron, you know.’ She started laughing and clapped her hands to her cheeks. ‘Yes, I heard it. Not all men are like your father either and, before you say it, I know I was younger than you when I swore off men for life. I still had a social life, though. Even if you’re not interested in dating, there’s nothing stopping you going out with friends on a weekday. Well, most days except Tuesdays.’

‘I know, but that would put on you even more.’

‘And I don’t mind.’

‘But I do. You already do so much for me and the kids. Honestly, Mum, I’m happy with things as they are.’

Mum was my best friend, my rock and my saviour and I counted my blessings every day for how amazing she was. I have no idea how I’d have got through those final months of my pregnancy with the twins if she hadn’t been so selfless. She’d had her world turned upside down by the five of us, but she’d never once grumbled about it. During those earlier darker days, I’d wondered how different my life might have been if I’d stuck to my first impressions of Cameron or listened to Mum when she’d shared her concerns. I’d been convinced she was wrong, though. I thought I knew him. I thought I was enough for him.

3

KERRY

Fourteen Years Ago

When I was only three, my dad decided that he’d rather go out drinking with his mates than be tied down with a girlfriend and baby. Mum and I temporarily moved back into Park Lodge with her parents – a thriving B&B at that point – before relocating to Huddersfield in West Yorkshire for a fresh start. Her experience working at Park Lodge helped her secure a job in a hotel and, later, promotion to manager. I’d always wanted to follow in her footsteps so, after school, I started at the local technical college, studying my diploma in travel and tourism.

That was when I first saw Cameron Fullerton. Correction – that was when I first heard Cameron Fullerton. I’ve never known anyone to be so loud. It was as though everything he said and did was performed to the other students, seeking adulation. Weirdly, it worked. There were a bunch of lads who hung onto his every word and mucked about with him, clearly trying to impress, and a group of girls who seemed to find him hilarious, always giggling at his jokes and stories.

I was so relieved he wasn’t on my course, but my best friend Saffy wasn’t so fortunate.

‘Urgh, he’s just like this in class too,’ she said one morning a few weeks into term as Cameron raced his gang along the corridor. ‘He’s always trying to make his mates laugh. Does my head in.’

‘Fancy swapping to travel and tourism?’ I asked, bending down to pick up the pieces of ripped poster off the floor which they’d destroyed by bashing into the noticeboard.

‘It’s very tempting.’

Cameron and his mates were laughing and patting each other on the back and I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer.

‘I’m glad you find it funny,’ I called to them as I placed the pieces on a filing cabinet.

They turned round, surprise evident on all their faces.

‘What’s that?’ Cameron asked.

‘I said I’m glad you find destroying someone else’s work funny. I’m sure that, when they spent time planning that display and putting it together so neatly, they were secretly hoping that a bunch of cretins would rip it down within a few weeks just for a laugh. Nice one, lads!’

My voice sounded confident but I was shaking inside. I’d always opted for a quiet life, blending into the background, keeping off the radar of the bullies, so I had no idea why I’d chosen this moment to draw attention to myself so publicly. Cameron and I stared at each other and I braced myself for a snarky response, but our tutors appeared and ushered us into our classrooms.

The following day, the posters had been carefully taped back together.

After that, there were no more corridor races or pushing and shoving, so maybe my words had had an impact after all, although they were still noisy. Sometimes, after a particularly loud incident, I’d catch Cameron looking at me, a strange expression on his face which I couldn’t read. Was he challenging me to have a go at him again, perhaps so he could say what he hadn’t been able to say on the race day? Saffy noticed it too and loved winding me up that Cameron was crushing on me. I doubted it but, even if he was, hell could freeze over and I still wouldn’t be interested.

At the start of the summer holidays between the first and second year at college, I spotted a removals van on the drive of the big house at the end of our road. The house had been empty all year, with builders coming and going, but the new owners were obviously now ready to move in. My heart sank when a car pulled up behind the van and Cameron got out the back. Of all the people who could have moved in, why did it have to be him?

‘If he gets the bus, can you imagine how awkward it’ll be waiting at the bus stop with him?’ Saffy asked when I met her in town the following day. ‘Or sitting next to him on the bus.’

‘Don’t! I can’t bear it. What if he talks to me?’

‘What if he asks you out?’

‘Shut up!’ I cried, giving her a shove. ‘He does not fancy me, and I definitely don’t fancy him.’

‘My grandma always says hate is the closest thing to love.’

‘Well, your grandma’s wrong in this case.’

A week later, I was meeting Saffy in Huddersfield. As I stepped out of the house, I had my head down, texting her, but was vaguely aware of someone pushing a wheelchair along the path. I waited by the gate to let them pass and could hear a man giving a running commentary on the surroundings – the type of doors, whether there were blinds in the windows, the colours and types of flowers in tubs in the small front gardens. I wondered why he was giving so much detail and glanced up. There was a frail-looking woman in the wheelchair with wispy white hair, dressed in bright colours, and wearing dark glasses.

The man stopped mid-sentence and, as I looked up at him, my eyes widened in shock. Cameron! His eyes locked with mine for a moment and he looked just as surprised to see me there.

‘Hi!’ he said. ‘You live here?’

I couldn’t exactly deny it while I was standing in my garden, so I nodded.

‘I’ve just moved in up the road,’ he said.

‘Who are you talking to, Cameron?’ the woman asked. For someone who looked so frail, her voice was unexpectedly strong.

He crouched beside the wheelchair, adjusted the blanket across her knees and raised his voice. ‘Sorry, Granny, this is Kerry from college.’

‘The one you were telling me about?’

A look of panic flickered across his face. ‘Erm, yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Kerry, this is my granny. You can call her Granny. Everyone does.’

‘Hi, Granny,’ I said, at a loss for more words. I didn’t know Cameron even knew my name and was reeling that he’d been talking about me.

‘What do you look like, Kerry?’ She pointed to her glasses. ‘I can only see shapes now and that’ll go soon, but I like to picture things up here.’ She tapped her forehead. ‘Hearing’s going too, so you’ll have to speak up.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Cameron said, his voice low.

‘No, it’s fine.’ I raised my voice for Granny to hear. ‘I’m five foot eight. I’ve got shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes, but I’m on my way out to catch a bus, so I need to go.’

‘Then we’d better not keep you,’ she said. ‘Bye, Kerry. I hope we meet again soon.’

Cameron gave me a half-smile before pushing the wheelchair away.

I set off but Granny’s voice drifted towards me. ‘Is she as pretty as her voice?’

I slowed my step, straining my ears for his response.

‘She’s stunning.’

Stunning? Did that mean Saffy was right about him crushing on me? I quickened my pace, not daring to turn around in case he was looking back.

By the time I made it to the bus stop, my heart was racing and I was pretty sure it wasn’t completely down to the pace of my walk. On the route into the town centre, all I could think about was Cameron. Hearing him patiently describe the area to his visually impaired grandma and carefully tucking in her blanket showed a caring side I hadn’t expected. And as for those final words I caught – she’s stunning – I felt completely unnerved by the fizz of excitement they gave me.

After that, I saw him pushing Granny past our house at the same time every day. I clearly wasn’t discreet enough with my spying as, after a few days, he paused outside and waved. It made my stomach fizz and I found myself watching the clock the following day, eager to see him.

It seemed pointless hiding behind the curtains when he clearly knew I was there so, after about a week, I started waving back. He looked so happy when I did that, bending down and speaking to Granny, who waved enthusiastically too.

On the Monday of week four of the six-week summer holidays, they waved as usual but, instead of moving on, Cameron applied the brake on the wheelchair and pushed the garden gate open. My stomach did a backflip as he walked up the path and knocked on the door.

‘If you’re free, Granny says she’d love it if you could join us on our walk today,’ he said when I answered.

‘And what about you?’ I’d never flirted with anyone in my whole life, so I had no idea where that came from.

He smiled. ‘I’d love it too.’

‘Okay, then.’

I slipped my trainers on and grabbed my keys.

‘Hi, Granny,’ I said, joining her on the path. ‘How are you?’

‘Not so grand today,’ she said, her voice sounding weaker than last time. ‘I have the start of a dratted summer cold. Cameron wanted me to stay home, but I get so bored indoors. My walk is…’ She broke off, coughing, and Cameron handed her a tissue.

I glanced up at his furrowed brow and could see he was worried about her.

She finished coughing and rested back against the chair, patting her chest.

‘It’s the highlight of my week,’ she wheezed.

‘I get bored of staying indoors too,’ I said, walking beside her as we set off. ‘My mum’s a hotel manager and can’t get time off in the summer holidays. I work on the reception at weekends but I’m on my own during the week.’

‘Then you must join us every day,’ she said. ‘Tell me about your course. Cameron says it’s different to his.’

We walked slowly round the block as Cameron and I described the differences between our studies. She quizzed me about my weekend job and my plans for the future.

‘I want to be a hotel manager like my mum,’ I said. ‘I’m hoping the course and my time on reception will help fast track that.’

‘Cameron’s going to be a manager too. He’s off to university, aren’t you, love?’

I glanced at Cameron questioningly, surprised to hear this. With his don’t care attitude at college, I’d assumed he’d scrape through his course and get a job afterwards. Aspirations to get a degree and be a manager seemed out of kilter with his behaviour, but so did taking an old lady for a walk every day and patiently describing the surroundings. It looked like I’d made some unfair assumptions about Cameron Fullerton based on a snapshot of behaviour in the corridor. I’d only spoken to him once to challenge him on the posters and he hadn’t had a chance to respond. I hadn’t thought of myself as being judgemental until now.

‘What do you want to do at university?’ I asked him.

‘Business studies. I want to join a graduate programme with a big multinational, maybe as a project manager.’

‘That sounds impressive.’

Granny reached up and patted his hand. ‘He wants to be a CEO by the time he’s thirty, don’t you, love? Reckon he’ll do it too. Straight A-stars in his GCSEs, you know. He’s got the brains and the ambition to go far, just like his parents.’

The grades surprised me too and I wondered whether the messing about at college could be boredom.

‘What do your parents do?’ I asked.

He sighed and his voice was flat as he answered. ‘My dad owns a construction company and my mum owns a storage business.’

‘Cameron doesn’t get on with his parents.’

‘Granny! You can’t say that.’

‘Why not? It’s true, and it’s not like it’s your fault.’

‘Yeah, but⁠—’

But he didn’t get to finish his protest because Granny started coughing again and he announced it was time to get her back inside for a rest.

They called for me every day that week. Granny claimed she felt no better but no worse either. She seemed in good spirits as she quizzed me about everything from where I was born to the music I liked to my favourite colour. Cameron shared the same details for him – or Granny did on his behalf – and I really enjoyed getting to know him.

There was only one subject which appeared to be taboo – his relationship with his parents. Every time they were mentioned, he steered the conversation away. I shared that my dad wasn’t in my life, but it didn’t lead to him opening up about his own parents.

I adored Granny and told her that I’d officially adopted her as my grandma, which she loved. She was so warm and friendly, full of interesting stories and so clearly proud of her grandson. I wished she really was my grandma. We had no contact with anyone on my dad’s side of the family, and my mum’s parents were nice but we hardly ever saw them. Running Park Lodge had kept them too busy during the school holidays when I was younger and, now that they’d stopped taking in paying guests, there were still issues. They wouldn’t come to Huddersfield to see us because Grandma couldn’t drive, Granddad wasn’t confident on motorways, and they refused to use public transport. I couldn’t visit on weekends due to my job and there was always an excuse for me not going during the week, so I’d taken the hint and stopped suggesting it.

‘It’s meant to get colder and rainy tomorrow,’ Cameron said as we paused outside my house on the Friday. ‘We might not be out for a few days.’

‘I’m working over the weekend anyway, but call for me when you’re out again.’

He smiled and his whole face lit up, giving me butterflies. ‘We’ll do that.’

‘I’ll see you soon, Granny,’ I said, lightly patting her hand. ‘I hope you improve over the weekend.’

She grasped my hand in hers and pulled me closer.

‘Be patient with him,’ she whispered. ‘He’s had a tough life.’ She squeezed my hand then released it. ‘I’m ready to go home now, Cameron.’

I stood by the gate, watching him wheel her towards the big house, feeling puzzled. Why had she asked me to be patient with him? And how tough a life could someone have who lived in the biggest house in the area? Money clearly wasn’t a worry, but maybe that stuff about not getting on with his parents was. Cameron Fullerton was clearly more complex than I’d expected and it intrigued me.

On Tuesday, the rain finally let up and I eagerly awaited my walk with Cameron and Granny, but they didn’t appear at their usual time. Late that morning, an ambulance whizzed past, blue lights flashing, and my stomach churned as it pulled onto the drive of the big house. Had Granny taken a turn for the worse? If she had, it felt disrespectful to stay by the window, watching.

On Wednesday evening, there was a knock on the door and Mum called up the stairs that it was for me. Cameron was on the doorstep, his face pale.

‘I wanted to let you know that Granny died last night.’

‘Oh, Cameron. I’m sorry. I saw the ambulance yesterday morning.’

‘She went to hospital but…’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, she really liked you and wanted you to have this.’

He handed