Someone Else's Home: Westbay Romance Series, #4

Chapter 1

Carmen Bailey’s long stride is matched by her son’s easy gait as they hurry through Westbay’s harbour. They are a striking couple, both over six feet tall with smoky green eyes and long dark, flowing hair hanging effortlessly past their shoulder blades.

Carmen, once a model, carries herself gracefully. Her yellow and red floral dress hovering just below her knees reveals long, tanned, slender legs. She ignores the curious glances and the turn of heads from people in the street. She knows their gaze is not really on her - it’s on Luis.

Walking under the clock tower into Harbour Street, they pass Jane’s Jewellers and the male grooming salon on the opposite side of the road, then up the pedestrianised street with its colourful array of unique and independent shops. Today the pretty stores have their awnings down, protecting shoppers from the midday sun.

Carmen has memorised Google maps. She has a vague recollection of the street from her last visit to Westbay some years ago, but just to make sure, she checks the numbers of the shops against the map grid on her iPhone.

‘Past the florist, the art gallery and Harbour Bistro,’ she mutters, her Andalusian accent still noticeable after almost thirty years in England. ‘It’s across the road from the café and beauty salon - beside the pet shop.’

‘I wonder if it’s always like this. It’s very busy for a small town,’ Luis says, quickly stepping aside and pressing his back against the window of the art gallery, to avoid a family pushing a baby’s buggy over his shiny, silver boots. Distracted, Luis glances into the shop admiring the paintings in the window - an assortment of seascapes, rocky beaches and rugged skies. Carmen nudges him ahead of her trying to cajole a smile.

‘You’re too serious,’ she says lightly. ‘It’s July. It’s almost the school holidays, remember?’

‘Holidays? No! I don’t remember when we last had one.’ Luis replies.

‘Your life is one long holiday,’ she teases.

‘I’ve been studying.’ His voice holds a note of caution while he points a finger with satisfaction. ‘Here. This is it.’

Carmen stops suddenly in front of the shop doorway. There’s a curved bay window with small square panes and a mustard yellow door. The paint on the old wood is peeling giving it an air of abandonment and the glass windows are dulled with dust and grime. It’s set slightly back from the main street, in a small alcove, as if it’s harbouring a secret.

‘Ah, yes. Here it is.’ Her soft voice holds a tone of cautious wonder. ‘It has an air of opulence and mystery,’ she whispers as if she’s discovered something magical. She presses her nose against the dirty pane and shades her eyes from the sunlight with her long slim fingers. ‘It’s big considering it was a mobile phone shop. What do you think?’

Luis shakes his head, doubt creasing his forehead. ‘Mama, I still don’t—’

‘I think it’s perfect.’ Carmen’s smile lights up her whole face. Her angular cheeks seem softer, her eyes radiate happiness and she looks nearer thirty than her forty-seven years. Although Luis is used to his mother’s good looks and is proud that strangers sometimes stop and stare at her, he much prefers it when people look at him, like the woman now who is going into the Beauty Salon across the road. She has a head of curly red hair, and she pauses without concealing her interest in them. She does a double take and inside his heart, Luis smiles.

Thirty years ago, Carmen had begun her modelling career striding out on catwalks across Europe, but today the people in the street aren’t looking at her, they’re staring at Luis. Their eyes rest on his perfectly painted scarlet nails and the navy and lime cotton sarong hanging from his waist. Luis’ shirt is open, revealing an unflawed, olive-tanned chest. Luis, who will soon turn twenty, has inherited his mother’s regal demeanour and he lifts his chin in defiance and turns his attention away from the red head. Following his mother’s gaze, he leans his forehead on the cold glass. It’s cool against his throbbing temple, and he breathes deeply wishing this nightmare was over instead of just beginning.

‘It was a mobile phone shop, but the owner went back home - up north, presumably,’ Carmen explains, rubbing her palm against the grubby pane. ‘It looks a mess inside, and it might take some work to do it up.’ She knows that she will enjoy this type of work. It will be a change, and it will give her a sense of purpose. She notices the rotting wood around the door frame and sighs with determination and positive spirit. ‘I think this will do, perfectly.’

‘Are you really so desperate?’

Carmen glances into the street. ‘Look how pretty it is, and how busy…’

‘It’s not as busy as London.’

‘You know I don’t want to stay in London. We need a change, Luis. We…’

‘But where will we live?’

‘There’s a two-bedroom apartment above the shop.’ Carmen steps back to look up at the three storey building. ‘There’s a gate at the side. Look! That must be the entrance to the flat.’

‘It looks tiny,’ says Luis doubtfully, looking up at the building. ‘And it’s very old. Is it made of wood?’

‘It’s cladding.’ Carmen grins.

‘It needs painting.’

‘Think of it as an adventure.’

‘We’re downgrading.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘Carmen Bailey?’ A man’s voice makes them turn simultaneously. ‘David Chesent, estate agent.’

They all shake hands, and David is unsure who is more beguiling. The tall and elegant Spanish lady or the equally, unusual and attractive young man at her side who is wearing makeup that makes him look more beautiful than David’s own young wife. To cover his confusion and to stop staring at them both, he smiles. ‘Let me show you inside.’

* * *

It takes under two minutes for Carmen to decide. ‘This space is enough for me.’ She runs her hands along the side of the wall, ignoring the cobwebs and spiders.

‘It was a mobile phone shop, and they divided it in two so that there is a larger workspace at the back.’ He taps the wall with a knuckle and smiles. ‘This can easily be taken down. What type of shop do you plan to open?’ He pushes thick-rimmed glasses back up onto his nose. He’s thinking, probably fashion boutique, high-end handbags, expensive shoes or perhaps even a classy makeup shop that his wife says the town is crying out for. ‘There’s quite a variety of shops in Harbour Street and there’s already a boutique and a beauty salon, perhaps…’

‘Interior design - soft furnishings.’

‘Ah.’ David smiles brightly. ‘There’s only one other shop like that, up in the new part of town, beside the supermarket.’

Carmen ignores him. She’s too engrossed in her own thoughts, imagining the shop she’d always dreamed of owning with a deep blue chaise longue in the window, large shining crystal candelabras hanging from the ceiling and heavy framed mirrors. Expensive artwork on the walls with an assortment of pretty ornaments, vases, hand-blown glass, suede cushions and candles. This shop - her shop - would be a statement. Her clientele will have money and taste, and they will travel to find her.

‘And,’ David says, ‘the town is busy all year round. This weekend is particularly busy as the schools have just broken up, but everyone flocks here - especially at the weekend. I know it’s hard to imagine in this heat, but you should see it at Christmas. Everywhere is so pretty. There’s even a Harbour Street Christmas committee.’ He smiles.

Luis yawns. He hovers in the window, gazing out into the street. It’s all so different to London. He watches an elderly woman, holding a small terrier on a pink lead, enter the pet shop next door. They both look hot and irritable - that’s exactly how Luis feels too.

He sighs. It’s all too hot. He pulls at the shirt that’s sticking to his back. ‘The shop is airless,’ he complains. ‘It smells musty. I’m going to be sick.’

Carmen ignores this declaration and she holds out her hand. ‘Come, cariño, look at this my darling. There’s even a kitchen in the back.’

‘Oh goody.’ Luis’ brow creases but his mother hooks her arm through his. ‘Don’t be sarcastic, my darling. It doesn’t suit you. Besides, it will give you an ugly resting face.’ She smiles. ‘And you are so beautiful.’

David shifts uncomfortably, pushing his hands further into his trouser pockets, wondering if he’s met Carmen before. She has a beautiful face. Perhaps she’s been in a film or on TV. Maybe an advert?

Carmen catches him staring at her. He blinks suddenly and turns quickly away wishing his glasses didn’t keep slipping down his perspiring nose.

‘And the apartment upstairs?’ Carmen asks.

‘It’s through the back. There are stairs and a door that you can access from the kitchen and lock down here.’

‘Lock?’

‘Yes, for example if you have someone working here and you don’t want them to have access to your private space upstairs.’

‘Ah.’ Carmen smiles. ‘This has everything we need, isn’t that true, Luis?’

Luis shakes his head and unwraps his arm from his mother’s grip. ‘It smells of damp.’

‘That’s the sea.’ David beams. ‘It’s only a short walk through the alleyway and you’re on the beach. The sunsets here are breathtaking.’

Luis regards the salesman with disdain. He hadn’t expected his mother to be so enthusiastic quite so quickly. It was the only reason that he had agreed to come with her. He’d hoped it might be a whim and that he would be able to persuade her that this was all a silly idea and that they should just go home - back to London.

‘Come, let’s see upstairs.’

Carmen follows David, ignoring the darkness of the rickety, narrow staircase and instead, much to Luis’ distress, takes great delight in the minutest details, gushing over the originality of sash windows, the additional shower room that’s so cramped he’d bang his head if he used it, and the old-fashioned kitchen unit that has rusty hinges and doesn’t fit properly.

‘The kitchen is smaller than our utility room at home in London,’ Luis declares scornfully but Carmen ignores him and continues to smile brightly, causing him to trail sulkily behind her into the long lounge that runs the length of the shop below, and a smaller room tucked behind the stairs.

‘Another bedroom?’ Carmen suggests happily.

‘A dormouse wouldn’t sleep in there.’

Carmen grins and heads upstairs to admire the two larger bedrooms and the main bathroom.

‘It’s tiny,’ Luis whispers. ‘How can you even consider moving here?’

Carmen taps his chest just above his heart with her palm. ‘Have faith, cariño.’

After the tour which takes much longer than David expected because Carmen opens every cupboard inspecting every detail, from hinges to running water to the flushing of the toilet - Carmen holds out her hand. ‘Take off ten thousand and I’ll buy it today.’

‘I’ll check with the owner.’

‘There’s no counteroffer. No messing around. If he wants to do the deal tomorrow, I’ll want twelve thousand off.’

‘I’ll tell him.’

‘Phone him now.’

David needs to escape from this alluring but captivating woman. ‘I’ll call him from my office.’

When they are downstairs, and standing in Harbour Street, Carmen says, ‘We’ll wait in the café across the road.’

‘I hope he takes my call.’ David pushes his glasses up his nose.

‘He’d be stupid not to.’ Carmen smiles.

They watch David walk away. His mind is racing. He’s trying to work out the identity of this alluring woman and child. If he’d been into sport, or if he was interested in social media like his young wife, then maybe he might have known sooner. It wasn’t as if the name Bailey would mean anything to him, but he strides it out, dashing quickly up the road unsure if he should google Carmen Bailey first or call the seller of the building about her offer. The name rang a bell. He has a vague recollection of his wife telling him about Bailey, a footballer, and his glamorous wife. Is it her? If so, why is Carmen Bailey moving here? With all the money they must have, why does she want to open a shop? And, even more importantly, where is her husband?

David’s wife loved gossip - or as she calls it, social media. Perhaps she might be the one who can find out all the details. Whoever she is, famous or not, he’d have lots to talk about when he got home tonight.

In Harbour Street, outside the empty premises that holds so much hope for her, Carmen links her arm through Luis’. ‘Is it warm enough for ice cream?’

‘It’s probably twenty-six degrees and as warm as it will get for July.’

Carmen pauses in the street to look at the shops around her, feeling brighter and more hopeful than she has done in years. ‘Have you ever seen such a beautiful street with so many original shops? It’s all so pretty and unique.’

‘I have. Yes. Remember, London? Camden?’

‘Don’t be a grump Luis, or you’ll end up like your father.’

Luis grins. They both know that out of the two children, Luis is like their mother in both looks and temperament, whereas his elder sister, Elena, is more like their father - smaller, broader and more serious.

They sit at an outside table under the awning, sheltering from the sun. A good-looking Rastafarian comes out dressed in a long, French-styled apron.

‘Hello, would you like a menu?’ Karl, the waiter, grins at them both, impressed by their unusual look and originality. He’d noticed them earlier stepping into the empty shop opposite with David the estate agent.

Carmen reads his name tag.

‘Hello, Karl. Thank you.’ She smiles and before he turns away, she asks, ‘Has this café been here long?’

Karl pauses and scratches his head. ‘I guess almost four years.’

‘Is Westbay a good place to live?’

Karl’s face shines with pride. ‘I love it. Just about everyone here in Harbour Street is top-notch. You know, friendly - there’s a great sense of community.’

‘And all ages?’ Carmen glances across at Luis who is busy studying the menu.

‘Of course, young and old. We’re all here - and some in-betweens.’ He laughs. ‘Are you on holiday?’

‘We’d like to move here.’

‘Good choice.’ Karl looks at Luis’ bent head noticing that the beautiful black hair has an almost purple sheen.

Luis looks up suddenly. ‘We’re from London.’

‘I moved here, and I have no regrets. In fact,’ Karl frowns, ‘a few people have moved here from London, including my boss. Amber owns the café and Harbour Bistro across the road.’ He nods at the restaurant. ‘She was a successful lawyer, but she gave it all up and she loves it here now. Ben runs the art gallery. He still travels up to London with his charity. Then there’s Eva from the flower shop, she’s Polish, and Sanjay owns the Indian, and well, I’m not from here originally. But it’s an inclusive community.’ He grins at Luis who deliberately won’t return his smile.

But Carmen does smile back at him. This is more than she could have hoped for. Then she notices how Karl and Luis have locked eyes - perhaps this could be the start of a new friendship. It will do Luis good to have a new start, a break before he goes to university in a few months’ time. He’ll have time to make friends and return here during the holidays. He will be able to find work and friendship in the local community.

‘I’ll have a coke.’ Luis thrusts the menu back at Karl without smiling and turns rudely away to gaze up the street.

‘Karl, my name is Carmen. And, if I’m not mistaken, there’s a man hurrying down the street from the estate agents to tell me that I’m the new owner of the shop across the road. The empty one, beside the Pet Shop.’

* * *

Jack phones her when Luis happens to go to the bathroom. She tells him her news.

‘What will we tell Elena?’ her husband asks.

‘We’ll have to tell her the truth.’

‘Everything?’

‘Yes. Certainly about the house.’

She can hear his sharp intake of breath.

‘She has to know,’ Carmen insists. ‘She might want to take her things. Do you want me to speak to her?’

‘No. I’ll do it.’

‘We can speak to her together if you think that will be easier?’

‘I know how much she loves this house,’ Jack replies slowly. Carmen imagines him standing at the kitchen island with the bi-fold doors that open onto the manicured lawn. She isn’t about to become emotional now.

‘It can’t be helped.’

‘I know, but maybe we should wait until it’s definite. You know, until there’s no turning back?’

‘There’s no going back now Jack and we both know it.’

‘I just think if we waited a few more weeks…’

‘It will be more of a shock to her. It’s best to tell her now. Be truthful. Tell her how it is and then she’ll know what to expect.’

Jack’s voice rises a notch. ‘Even I don’t know what to expect.’

‘You need to start thinking about the future, Jack. Everything is changing.’

‘This is our home,’ says Jack, tersely.

‘It’s a house,’ Carmen replies.

Chapter 2

It takes six weeks for the paperwork to go through and the contracts to be exchanged. Then Carmen has to find plumbers and painters to renovate the shop and flat and by the beginning of September she’s stressed but excited.

During these past few months, Jack has been trying to get her to change her mind. He’s pleaded with her, cajoled her, begged her and the night before the move nothing between them has changed. Carmen is resolute.

‘How can you go to Westbay? What about me?’ Jack’s normally twinkling blue eyes are full of pain and confusion. He runs his hand through his dirty-blonde hair, a habit that once had football fans enthralled.

‘I’ve asked you to come with me, Jack. You still can.’

‘What about our home here?’ He casts his hands around their palatial kitchen. The bi-fold patio doors are open revealing their rose garden, where plants and shrubs had been planted with professionalism, and the sweet smell of the blooms wafts into the room. To the left, the water in the swimming pool glistens in the dusky evening light, and Carmen has already admitted that it’s the one thing she’ll miss.

‘Jack, I’ve told you a hundred times. If we don’t earn money, then we won’t have this home.’

‘It’s not my fault.’ Jack thumps his fist in frustration on the marble island. ‘I didn’t know what would happen.’

‘I know, cariño.’ Carmen deliberately lowers her voice. ‘But we must do something - for the long term. Something with purpose.’

‘Anything but this, Carmen. What will people say?’

Carmen raises herself, extending her torso and lifting her shoulders back. ‘I don’t care.’

‘But I do,’ he argues. He points his thumb at his chest. ‘It’s my reputation.’

‘Jack, tell me truthfully. What is your reputation?’ She pauses. ‘What is your reputation today?’

He stares back at her. His twinkling blue eyes that once danced with love and teasing are now burning angrily. ‘Don’t do this!’ He warns.

Carmen’s accent becomes stronger when she argues. It was something that Jack had always seen as both charming and exotic but tonight it holds no allure for him at all. ‘We must be honest, Jack. That is what has kept our twenty-six-year-old marriage alive. Honesty. And I will not lie to you. Not now. Not ever! You must be truthful with me. And the truth is – we’re bankrupt. It’s gone! All the money gone. Phssst.’ She flicks her wrist toward the patio doors. ‘And what little we have left, we must use to invest in business.’

‘Your shop in Westbay?’

‘My business,’ she says firmly.

‘I’ll earn money again.’

Carmen can see the desperation in her husband’s eyes. ‘I know, cariño. But until then, I must do what I can.’

‘A shop!’ Jack shouts scornfully. ‘And it’s not even in London.’

‘I know London is important to you. But we loved Westbay when we went there for a break.

‘That was before Covid!’

‘I know.’ She places her hand on his and adds softly, ‘But we loved it. We were happy there and we felt better after being by the sea. It’s a very special place.’

Jack shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have to be sorry. Just come with me, please?’

He turns away. ‘I can’t. This is my home. I love this place.’

‘You have to be realistic. We will probably lose this house by Christmas. The mortgage rates are ridiculously high, and we can’t afford—’

‘You’re blaming me again.’

‘I’m not.’

‘It’s not my fault that Covid came along. It’s not my fault that we didn’t pay off the mortgages on all our properties and it’s not my fault that they’re going to foreclose on our—’

Carmen holds up a slim finger. ‘Jack! Stop! Please. We’ve been going over this for weeks. The past is in the past and we must move forward.’

‘Forward? To a bedsit over a shop? I didn’t even live like that before I was playing football in the Premiership.’

She moves her finger from side to side as if conducting her words like a musical composer. She had been determined to stay calm but now her temperature and anger are rising as one. ‘It’s not a bedsit. It has two bedrooms and the lounge is large. It’s not a bedsit.’

‘That’s not the point!’

‘Then what do you want me to do, Jack? Sit around here moping all day?’

He slumps onto a white leather covered barstool and covers his head in his hands. ‘I wish my career wasn’t over.’

‘Madre de Dios, Jack! That was twenty years ago. You’re not a young boy anymore’

‘I know.’

‘It’s like me wishing I was still a top model.’

Jack looks up. ‘There are lots of older models.’

‘Do not go there! My modelling days are over, as you well kn—’

‘Loads of models are still famous. You could have done celebrity Bake Off - that would have paid—’

‘No! No! No!’ Carmen shouts. ‘You did all the celebrity stuff; the Jungle, the celebrity SAS and all of that. But not me. I will not do that. I have been your wife for over twenty-five years, and you should know me better. Shame on you.’ Carmen turns her back.

‘Look,’ Jack’s voice is softer. ‘All I’m saying is that if you did Strictly, or celebrity, then all our money troubles would be over - for a while at least. Just until I think of something.’

‘You’ve had twenty years to think of something.’

‘That’s unfair.’

They lock eyes across the kitchen island. There’s a noise on the patio and they both turn in unison. Luis appears wearing purple and pink eyeliner and false eyelashes. He’s wearing a one-piece lilac bathing suit with a short beige dress unbuttoned at the front, revealing his hairless chest.

‘Arguing about me, again?’ he asks.

Jack turns away.

‘No,’ Carmen replies.

‘That makes a change.’ Luis wanders past them, pulling his towel over his narrow shoulders. Carmen is impressed with his posture, the turn of his head and the muscled tone of his olive skin.

‘I’ll be upstairs,’ Luis adds, ‘in case you’re looking for me.’

‘Make sure you pack everything tonight,’ Carmen says. ‘We’ll be leaving early.’

Jack shakes his head and stares into the garden. His life is falling apart, and he seems unable to stop it. After Luis leaves, he turns to her. ‘Why?’

‘Come with me? Try it for a month - you may even like Westbay.’

‘I mean, why does he have to dress like that?’

‘Because they want to.’

‘They. They. THEY!’ he shouts. ‘That’s grammatically incorrect. They is plural - he is my son.’

‘They, them and their is used for someone who might not identify strictly as male or female. Luis is non-binary.’

‘I don’t care who he sleeps with—’

‘It’s not about sexuality, it’s about identity. They don’t want to conform to traditional ideas of male and female so they choose to be non-binary, rather than one of the only two options available to describe their identity.’

‘But what’s the point?’ Jack shouts.

‘Pronouns are like a personal name - they connect to a person’s identity. Like you’re a man and I’m a woman - Luis prefers they.’

Jack rubs his hand through his hair. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’

‘You may not always get it right. Sometimes I don’t, but we have to try.’

‘Why does he want to do this to us?’ Jack grumbles.

Carmen leans toward her