Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Doris Day

Previously…

My heart sank. I loved this place but I had to be practical. ‘I’ll have to let it go then,’ I said sadly. She opened her arms and we had a bit of a cuddle.

‘I don’t understand,’ she said, frowning.

‘What?’ I sniffed, looking up at her lovely face.

‘Why you can’t pay twenty thousand a year, it’s not that much.’

‘Maybe not be for you, but it’s a hell of a lot for me.’ I said, kissing her.

‘So, you’re not willing to pay twenty thousand kisses a year to have the place?’

‘It’s not that I don’t want to it’s just––what did you say–?’

I looked at her beautiful face, she was smiling slightly.

‘D—d—do you mean it?’

She nodded.

‘I can have the place?’

‘Only if you keep up with the rent. Mind you, one kiss short and you are out of here!’

I squealed with delight and was soon paying the first installment of my rent–it was hard going, but someone had to do it!

And now the story continues…

Saturday morning arrived and I awoke to the sound of screeching seagulls and a lovely warm body up close and personal behind me. The fact that neither my partner nor I were wearing anything meant that I could feel her lovely, warm, soft and pert breasts, pressed against my naked back.

Recalling last night’s nocturnal activities made me smile. I sighed with the memory and then cracked an eye open.

‘Oh hell,’ I said after looking at the clock on my bedside table. ‘Abby, wake up!’

‘Mmm…what?’

‘It’s half past eight,’ I said turning over and looking into her beautiful face. ‘My sister Dawn and her mob will be here at eleven and you have to go and open up the pottery.’

‘I…I’m too sleepy...’

‘ABBY, don’t go back to sleep, you have to feed the cats too. Abby, are you listening?’

‘Mmm…’

‘Right you asked for it,’ I said as I straddled her lovely body––

Twenty minutes later, we were rather reluctantly up and getting ready for the day.

Abby used the shower first; I wanted to join her, but she said that it would be a distraction and anyway, the loofa was getting rather worn.

I slipped on my robe and sadly, went downstairs thinking of the things we could be doing in the shower right now. If only we didn’t have to have things to do today. I never thought that I would feel like that after Olivia, and I smiled at what I might get up to with Abby tonight; then I remembered that she wouldn’t be here tonight.

We had agreed that I would take things slowly with my sister and the family, perhaps introducing her on Sunday when we had lunch in Luigi’s Italian Restaurant on the other side of the cove, by the east beach–past the third rock on the right. I didn’t fancy going to bed alone tonight, but I suppose it was a sacrifice I would have to bear.

I was making coffee and burning toast when she came down. She was dressed in a yellow top and jeans. Her hair was still a bit wet but as far as I was concerned she looked truly scrumptious. After a quick kiss, a slurp of coffee and a bite or two of toast, she was off to do her daily chores.

‘See you later, honey. Are you sure you’ll be okay?’

‘Don’t fuss, Abby. I have to do this. They are the only real family I have and they will have to take me as I am. Dawn did say that there wouldn’t be any problems and if there are, well then I will just have to cope. I have been doing a lot of that lately.’

After a rather nice and protracted hug, she rushed off. I could almost hear the meows of complaint from her cottage almost a quarter of a mile away.

I turned on the radio and listened to the music on Radio Two, while I did my chores. Luckily, Mrs P had done most of the things that needed doing so I only had to tidy up after last night.

There was a knock on the door. Glancing at the kitchen clock, I could see that it was only nine forty; too early for Dawn. I made my way downstairs and the postman–Pat–was standing there with a smile on his face.

‘Morning, Pat.’ I said.

‘Morn’m yurr’s yurr post. Just the electric and rates today and thurr’s a card from Mr Potts about that posh car o’ yurr’n.’

‘Thanks, Pat.’ I said, ‘fancy a cuppa?’

‘No, ta, I got to get downalong. Mrs Pertwee will give me tea an’ toast while she tell me ’bout the gossip.’ He touched his cap and went off down the road whistling a happy tune.

I had just closed the door and started upstairs again when there was another knock the door. Descending the three steps I had climbed, I opened up again.

‘Hello, Ernie.’ I said to the milkman who was out of breath.

‘Hello’m. Just one pint today?’

‘No, three please I have people staying.’

‘What, your Abby you mean?’

‘No, my sister and her family are coming.’

‘Right three it is then.’ He ran over to his milk float and returned with the milk.

‘Thanks, Ernie.’ I said, taking the bottles from him.

‘Right’m.’ he said with a wave as he rushed next door for my neighbour’s order. I wasn’t surprised that he knew about Abby and me. I took it for granted that my private life was now in the public domain. I just wondered if my other private things had been broadcast yet. Ah well, Que Sera, Sera.

Closing the door, I went into the kitchen and put the milk bottles in the fridge. I saw a cobweb on the ceiling and felt rather smug. Mrs Pearson had missed that one and I wondered how I could slip it in at the Monday morning tea-break conversation with her.

Talking of tea, I fancied a cuppa, so I filled the kettle and waited for it to boil. Picking up the card from Mr Potts, it said:

The part they sent was the wrong one. I’m waiting for the new bit
but it has to come from Taiwan.
I’ll let you know when it’s in and I’ve fix the car.
Sorry for the delay.

Potts

I shook my head and tried to remember what my car actually looked like.

While I waited for the kettle to boil, I once again wondered what my family, and specifically my sister’s hubby, Adrian would think of me. I put a tea bag and a spoon full of sugar in my pink I love me mug and continued to cogitate. I had only met Adrian a couple of times, once at the wedding and once more soon afterwards. I was wearing trousers then and although not exactly manly in the testosterone sense, I don’t imagine that he ever thought of me as a woman. He was a nice man though; I just hoped that he wouldn’t think that I was just a bloke in a dress.

The whistle on the kettle, erm–whistled and I poured the boiling water over the tea bag. Just then there was another knock on the front door!

I went and opened it: there in front of me stood a woman. She was, I suppose, in her seventies, had a lined face and no makeup except a slash of red lipstick. She wore a dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place at Woodstock at the height of flower-power. Talking of flowers, she had some woven or plaited into her long, greying hair, very nice but somehow rather bizarre. She had a sort of haunted look and her eyes were as black as coal.

‘Hello.’ I said, ‘can I help you?’

‘Winter will be upon us soon, you must prepare. Beware of tall dark strangers. Take nothing at face value and expect a surprise come Michaelmas.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I’ll say no more.’

With that, she turned and walked off down the road, muttering to herself.

‘Bloody hell,’ I thought, ‘weird or what?’

I returned to my cuppa shaking my head and wondering if I should have crossed her palm with silver. Quickly fishing out the teabag before my tea became too strong for a weak little thing like me, I added some milk and then grabbed a packet of Jaffa cakes. Making my way to my studio, I slid open the balcony doors and sat down on my rickety chair breathing a sigh of relief. Down on the quay–even at this time of the morning–the ice cream kiosk was doing a roaring trade.

It was brilliant that I would be having my gallery near there. It was the ideal spot for me: next to the pottery, near the fish and chip shop and the Bide-A-While Continental Tea Room, the ice cream kiosk, of course, and not forgetting The Toad and Tart–not that I was thinking of my tummy, honest!

Then I remembered, I was already behind on my rent. I would have to go and see Abby at some stage and make a payment. I wondered if a French kiss would count as two? Knowing her and the skin-flint that she was, it would probably only be one; it was a good job that I was such a nice tenant and wouldn’t complain about it to some sort of tribunal!

Checking my watch I saw that time was getting on. Earlier I had received a text from Dawn saying they would be arriving at eleven, so I thought I should get cracking. I did the washing up, made the bed, had a shower, washed my hair and dried it, and then had to decide what to wear.

I didn’t want to go over the top or look frumpy, so after minimalist makeup–using the less is more rule–I decided on smart but casual, so I put on a pretty, cream silk, blouse and a black, knee-length skirt. It was far too hot for tights, so I wore my sandals. They looked nice as my pink-painted nails were clearly visible.

Brushing my hair till it shone, I looked critically at the finished article in the full length mirror. Not bad, I thought. Not devastatingly pretty or drop dead gorgeous, but passable in a dimly lit room.

I smiled at my reflection and then the smile was wiped off my face as there was yet another knock on the front door. Looking at the time, I could see that it was ten to eleven, so I took one more look at myself, brushed a speck of dust from my skirt with my hand and made my way downstairs. I put on my best face and opened the door.

‘Hi, Sam, just dropping off the paperwork for the gallery.’

‘Oh hi, Millie.’

She must have detected my surprise; ‘Sorry, were you expecting someone else?’

‘Yes, my sister and her family. Sorry, Millie, I’m a bit nervous.’

‘Why?’

‘Well they haven’t seen me like this, a wom–I mean for such a long time and well I hope that they’ll like what they see.’

‘You are lovely and anyway, you’ve seen your sister just recently.’

‘Yes, but not Adrian and I’ve never met the kids.’

‘Well, I won’t keep you. Just sign the forms where I’ve indicated and then give them to Abby. Funny though.’

‘What?’

‘The payment; it says twenty thousand and Abby said to leave off the pound sign. I wonder what she means by that?’

‘Erm, not entirely sure. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out with her.’

‘Okay. Look, I’ve got to rush, have to see a man about a stable; bye.’

‘Bye,’ I waved to her retreating back and returned to the kitchen where I put the paperwork behind the clock. Just then, my mobile chirped.

Picking it up, I pressed the button thingy. It was a text:

Hi Sam,
Thinking of you. Hope it goes ok. If you need cavalry, I’ll come to your rescue.
Ps - you owe me forty kisses.
Hugs
Abby
XXXX

I smiled and sent a quick reply.

Thanx hon, I will pay you later, but need a receipt!
Hugs, and wet kisses.
Sam
XXXX

There was a knock on the door. Once again I metaphorically girded my loins and went downstairs. If it was anyone other than Dawn and the tribe, I would probably say naughty things…

I opened the door and there they were. Dawn rushed up and hugged me.

‘Sam! You look gorgeous. Adrian’s parking the car somewhere. He wants to find a place where his car won’t get bombed by the local bird population.’

After a hug fest, she put me down; behind her were the two children. They looked a bit shy so I bent down to their level.

‘Hello.’ I said. Looking at Timothy I said,’ Right, are you Hayley?’

He shook his head.

‘Oh, it must be Timothy then. I am silly, aren’t I?’

He smiled, nodded and then giggled; ‘Silly, Auntie.’ he said.

‘Oh, and who is this beautiful girl? Are you Hayley?’

‘Mmm,’ she nodded and then added, ‘I like your hair.’

‘Thank you, honey. Your hair’s lovely too.’

Looking at the children, I felt a lump in my throat. They were so beautiful. How could Olivia––? I shook my head to rid it of such negative thoughts.

‘Can I have a hug then?’

They both came to me and hugged my legs. Glancing towards Dawn, it was obvious that she was affected too. ‘I think they like you,’ she whispered.

A shadow fell across the doorway. Looking up I saw Adrian. He hadn’t changed; he was quite tall–beefy in fact–dark haired and hazel eyed. He was considered quite a catch for Dawn. He used to play rugby and had the muscles and broken nose to prove it.

‘Hello, Samantha,’ he said, a slight frown on his face as he took in someone he had last seen wearing a suit and tie.

‘Hi Adrian,’ I said, standing up.

---

To Be Continued...

The Cove By Liz Wright

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.