Читать книгу The Once in a Blue Moon Guesthouse: The perfect feelgood romance - Cressida McLaughlin, Cressida McLaughlin - Страница 9

‘I can’t believe you’ve brought me to a café called Cool Beans,’ she said after they’d sat in rounded, chocolate-brown leather armchairs, and the waiter had taken their order. Their table was low and very small, almost an afterthought, and Robin felt exposed without anything significant between them. She made a mental note that her guesthouse shouldn’t lose sight of practicality for the sake of style. Not that this place was stylish, but it definitely thought it was.

‘Hey,’ Tim said, eyes wide with mock hurt. ‘You set the parameters. This is the only place in town that’s guaranteed to do you a slice of Bakewell tart, and it’s good tart, too.’

‘The Campion Bay Teashop does Bakewell tart. Roxy and Ashley were telling me that they make all their own cakes and pastries.’

‘The place just along from you?’ Tim wrinkled his nose and sat back in his chair, elbows on the armrests. Robin could see the shimmer of silver cufflinks as his shirt protruded from the expensive grey suit. ‘We’re in town, and I don’t have time to head out to the seafront.’

‘So you do have to go back to work? I heard that you were doing well, that you’ve moved up to junior partner in your property firm.’

He ran a hand over his jaw, but he couldn’t hide the smile. ‘Things couldn’t be better, if I’m honest. I’m working on my own portfolio of sites, looking to develop them, bring Campion Bay a bit more up to date.’

‘You’re not a fan of the quaint seaside feel any more?’

‘Quaint is fine, but there are too many buildings – domestic and commercial – that are unlived in, unloved, and it has an effect on the whole area. Malcolm’s firm is working hard to eradicate those, to turn them back into desirable accommodation. I’m proud to be a part of that.’

‘Not least because it’s lucrative, I’ll bet.’ She gave him a quick smile, but Tim wasn’t offended. He never was. He was entirely sure of himself and of his place in the world, and wasn’t afraid to let people know it.

He spread his arms wide. ‘I’m not going to apologize for being successful. And isn’t that what you’re doing, just on a smaller scale? Taking your parents’ fading guesthouse, renovating it, smartening it up and looking to make a profit?’

‘Yes, but without me doing all that the guesthouse would close.’

‘And these buildings would become dilapidated if we did nothing, having an effect on adjoining properties. It’s no different.’

Robin narrowed her eyes, but she knew he was right. ‘Is that what you’re planning with number four Goldcrest Road?’

He gave her an amused, almost admiring look. ‘Nothing’s been confirmed about that site yet.’

‘But it’s on your radar?’

‘We’re looking into who owns it, seeing what options we have. And, if I’m honest, the thought of working on the building next to yours has moved it near the top of my wish list. But no decisions have been made, as yet.’

He was as charming and confident as ever, and despite the alarming admission that he wanted to get his claws into Tabitha’s house, Robin felt a tug of the old emotions, the headiness of first love that, a long time ago, had been strong enough to knock her sideways. As their coffee and cakes arrived – Tim had opted for a slice of brownie that looked about as impressive as the table – she noticed that the initials TL were inscribed on his cufflinks, and also, confirming what Molly had told her, that he had no ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. Tim thanked the waiter and turned just in time to see her looking. His gaze was penetrating, a hint of a smile on his lips.

‘Tell me about London,’ he said. ‘What made you come back here after all this time? Your plan was always to stay in the big smoke. Unless of course you couldn’t resist your feelings for me any longer?’

Robin stuck her fork in the Bakewell tart and tried to organize her thoughts. Someone cycled past, ringing their bell to scatter the seagulls. He was being flippant, she knew, but she felt the flush of her cheeks all the same. ‘We didn’t exactly end on the best of terms, did we?’ She met his gaze with her own. She wasn’t going to let him overwhelm her. She waited for a flicker of unease, but none came.

‘And if we hadn’t,’ he said, leaning forwards, ‘we’d still be together today, nearly fifteen years later.’

‘You sound like you actually regret what you did.’ She sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim.

‘I do. Seeing you again, Robs, here in Campion Bay, it …’ He shook his head. ‘I’d heard you were back, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been looking forward to us meeting again, to seeing you in the flesh.’

Robin’s stomach fluttered unhelpfully. She’d been lost in Tim’s blue-eyed gaze and his carefully crafted compliments for five years. At the time it had been the most real thing in her life, but after what he’d done to her, it had all seemed like an act. He was gorgeous and charismatic and successful; he had many good things going for him, but she had to remind herself of the negatives. She had to remind her senses that feeling betrayed and heartbroken made the rest worthless.

‘It’s good to see you too,’ she said, keeping the emotion out of her voice. ‘Are you still surfing?’

He grimaced. ‘I haven’t for a while, but I’m hoping to get back into it. I broke my coccyx a few months ago, landed badly on a submerged rock. It was a real pain in the ass.’

Robin rolled her eyes, resisting the laugh. ‘It sounds awful. But at least you didn’t do it slipping on a banana skin or falling drunkenly out of a taxi.’

‘What’s your point?’

‘I don’t think you can lose any cool points for a surfing injury.’

‘Pretty sure your dignity is affected when you can’t sit down for three weeks.’

‘Oh, come off it, Tim, you’re—’ She stopped, caught herself. She would not feed his already overinflated ego. ‘You’re lucky it wasn’t a worse injury,’ she said instead, and then wished she hadn’t, her thoughts drawing the inevitable, unhelpful comparisons. She cut off a slice of Bakewell tart with her fork, but before she could bring it to her mouth Tim’s hand was over hers. The contact was warm and familiar, and unsettling in the unspoken comfort it provided.

‘Did something happen in London, Robs?’ He was suddenly sincere, his bravado hidden behind concern, and she felt herself being drawn towards it.

‘My friend died,’ she said, not shrugging his touch off. ‘Neve.’

Tim’s eyes widened, and for the first time since she’d seen him he looked less than composed. ‘Neve, who you met in your first year? The – your business partner?’

She nodded, her throat closing as Tim’s features clouded with shock. He’d met Neve on a couple of occasions while he and Robin were still going out, and he’d travelled up to London to see her in her first-year halls of residence.

She and Neve had hit it off instantly, and Robin had often wondered what would have happened if their rooms hadn’t been next door in halls, if they would still have found each other and come up with the idea of Once in a Blue Moon Days. She’d thought a lot about fate and destiny, and not only since Neve’s death. Her friend had been a big believer in those intangible things, in finding meaning in the cosmos, divining who you were meant to end up with from a horoscope. It was part of the reason Starcross was so special, with its focus on stars, on looking beyond the immediate.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked softly, wondering if she’d been callous in firing this bombshell at him, for using it, somehow, as a shield against his charm.

‘God, I’m so sorry, Robin.’ He moved his chair closer to hers, squeezed her hand. ‘I had no idea.’

‘Why should you have?’ She thought of the rumour mill, which had clearly kept him informed of some, but not all, of her news. She waited a few beats, grateful that he didn’t try to fill the silence, allowing her composure to return and her heart rate to settle. ‘I hadn’t planned to come back here, but then, afterwards, it was where I needed to be. And when Mum and Dad said they were moving away …’ She shrugged. ‘Molly’s helping out. She’s roped Paige and Adam in, and offered some builder friends haircuts for life if they’ll help with the redecorating. It’s a long way off being finished, but I’m excited. I’ve just bought a painting.’

‘A painting?’ Tim raised his eyebrows, matching her new enthusiasm, the solemn moment gone. It felt good, talking about the guesthouse again. It had become her safe place. Of course it would be hard work, it would be challenging, but she was ready for that. After all, Once in a Blue Moon Days hadn’t always been easy. The clients had been demanding, wanting – understandably – sheer perfection. As she told Tim some of her ideas, her mood lifted. The coffee and the sugar gave her a boost of energy, and she felt suddenly, overwhelmingly excited about the future. She was embracing the guesthouse as if it was her salvation. In lots of ways, it probably was.

‘When can I come and see it?’ Tim asked once Robin had finally run out of steam.

‘Not yet, it’s not ready.’

‘I don’t get a sneak peek?’ He pouted, looking so ridiculously crestfallen that she laughed.

‘No. What made you think you would?’

‘Our history.’

‘Not all good history,’ she reminded him, but she felt a flutter of unexpected longing. She risked looking at him. He was sitting perfectly still, his blue eyes trained on her.

‘The course of true love never did run smooth,’ he said quietly.

She shook her head, incredulous, but her heart was racing. She stood, catching her fork with her knee and knocking it to the floor. She bent to pick it up, but Tim was already there. They rose to standing together, so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek.

‘I have to get back,’ she said quickly.

‘Repurposing some furniture?’

‘Endlessly, for about the next four months.’

‘It’s been great catching up.’

Tim refused to let her pay the bill and walked her to the door. The cold was bracing, and Robin welcomed it; she needed to clear her head.

‘When can I come and see the rooms?’ he asked.

‘When they’re finished, not before.’

‘Robin Brennan, ever the perfectionist.’

‘Takes one to know one.’

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ He smiled, their eyes catching hold of each other’s. Tim was first to look away.

‘I’d best get on,’ Robin said. ‘Thanks for coffee.’

‘Next time let’s make it a glass of something celebratory to toast your new business.’ Before she had a chance to protest, Tim’s arm was around her and he was kissing her cheek, smelling of spicy, no doubt expensive, aftershave and filling Robin’s senses with heady nostalgia.

She watched him stride away and thought again about fate. She’d known that seeing Tim was inevitable once she moved back to Campion Bay, and she’d also known that their five-year, first-love relationship would always hold a special place in her heart, but she hadn’t been prepared for her heart to be quite so keen to see him again. Was this what was destined for her, what was written in the stars? Could she forgive his indiscretion, aged nineteen and with her too far away for their relationship to flourish? They were both so much older now, both with their own histories and heartaches behind them, but still with an undeniable chemistry. Could it be rekindled? As she started to walk back to Goldcrest Road, Robin chided herself for even entertaining the thought.

‘Where is she?’ Robin heard her dad’s voice, always on the right side of amiable, drifting up the stairs.

‘Up here!’ Paige called, and then glared at her mother as Molly made a loud shushing sound. Robin tried not to laugh. Paige was sixteen, Molly thirty-four, and they often acted more like sisters than mother and daughter. Paige’s hair was the same, expertly applied blonde, only three times longer than Molly’s.

‘This is a delicate operation,’ Molly hissed at her daughter.

‘Why?’ Paige asked. ‘Will the fish get scared?’

‘Not sure we’ll know if they do,’ Jim said, his back towards them, intent on securing the large fish-tank into the newly cut hole in the wall of Robin’s Rockpool room. Molly had been right, the wiry but – as Robin had discovered over the last few months – ridiculously strong builder and glazier had a very neat, impressive beard, and in her head he’d instantly become Beardy Jim. She was worried she’d say it out loud, but on voicing her fears to Molly had been led to understand he’d probably be quite pleased with the nickname. He’d worked solidly and cheerfully alongside his partner Kerry, and Robin knew that free haircuts for life would not be enough for all they’d done. But she’d held back some budget for labour costs, and was confident that she could pay them for their time.

Right now, they were making Robin’s vision of a fish-tank wall come true. Between the main bedroom and en suite bathroom of Rockpool, instead of plasterboard there would soon be a beautiful aquarium, reflecting the light from the window opposite, filled with colourful discus, rainbow fish and fantail guppies. It was a risk, she knew, but she couldn’t imagine a better feature for this room that, along with its bleached floorboards and hints of turquoise, held the essence of the sea.

Her mum and dad appeared in the doorway and the room, now full of bodies, seemed suddenly too small. Ian Brennan glanced at the large polythene bags on the floor, the assortment of fish waiting for their new home, and looked anxiously at his wife.

‘Ah.’

‘What’s wrong, Dad?’ Robin asked. ‘Has something happened with your ferry?’

It was the first week in April and her parents were about to leave for France. Robin had been working harder than ever, while also trying to ward off the encroaching panic that she would soon be in sole charge of the guesthouse. Not to mention that her mum and dad, who had been such a comfort to her after Neve’s death, would be hundreds of miles away, for good.

Sylvie approached her daughter, her narrow face pinched. She was holding a red, fleecy blanket. On closer inspection, Robin could see that the blanket was wriggling.

‘Mum, Dad?’ She looked from one to the other, then back at the blanket, and then at Molly who shrugged her shoulders. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Maybe this isn’t the best room,’ her dad said.

‘For what?’

Without answering, Sylvie thrust the blanket into her hands and Robin looked down at it. A tiny black paw emerged from the fleecy material, claws finding and holding on to the cotton of Robin’s paint-splattered jumper. She pushed back the blanket and found the fuzzy head of a kitten. It let out a huge yawn, exposing a tiny pink tongue.

‘A kitten?’ Paige yelped. ‘Oh my God, it’s adorable.’

Through her confusion, Robin felt a surge of love for the helpless creature. She looked at her mum. Sylvie Brennan had her hands clasped together, the look in her dark eyes both defiant and tentative, ready to accept either congratulations or rebuke for the decision she and Ian had made.

‘Mum,’ Robin started, ‘what is this – he, she – for?’

‘He’s for you,’ Sylvie said. ‘For when we’ve gone.’

‘A perfect replacement, I’d say,’ her dad chuckled and put his hand on Sylvie’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

‘I don’t need a kitten,’ Robin said softly, though already she knew that she wanted him, that he was hers, and she would struggle even to release him from his temporary bed in her arms.

‘We don’t want you to be lonely,’ Sylvie said, shooting a nervous glance at her husband, the two of them sharing tight smiles. ‘Now that you’re taking this on all by yourself.’

‘Does this look lonely to you?’ Robin asked, giving them a warm smile. ‘I’ve got Molly and Paige, Jim and Kerry, and—’

‘About a hundred fish,’ Kerry added.

‘Which I’m sure Mr Kitten here is going to absolutely adore, aren’t you, Mr Kitten?’ Molly stroked a small black paw, her voice taking on a soppy tone.

‘I promise, Mum,’ Robin said, ignoring her friend, ‘you don’t need to worry about me.’

Sylvie nodded but her hands wrung together, the knuckles white, and Robin could see the gleam of tears in her eyes.

‘Oh, Mum, don’t cry.’ Robin stepped forward, carefully removing one arm from the kitten, holding him tightly against her with the other hand, and gave her mum an awkward, one-sided embrace.

They looked at the small, black bundle to avoid seeing the emotion on each other’s faces.

‘We’ll look after her, Mrs B,’ Molly said, patting Sylvie on the shoulder.

‘I know you will,’ Sylvie said.

‘What if the guests don’t like cats?’ Paige asked, stroking the kitten between the ears. His purr increased as if she’d found the volume button. ‘Some of them might be allergic,’ she added, though her gaze was adoring.

Robin grinned. The kitten was magic. Anything small and soft and vulnerable had a powerful effect on people. ‘I’ll make sure I put it on the website – the guesthouse comes with a cat – and a couple of the rooms are going to be dog friendly anyway.’

‘I’m still not sure that’s the best idea.’ Sylvie’s voice was sharp through her sniffs. ‘It’ll mean an awful lot of extra work.’

‘I don’t think it will,’ Robin countered. ‘Why would people with dogs have less respect for the guesthouse than those without? And as long as we clean the rooms thoroughly in between, I can’t see how it’ll be a problem.’

‘There’s always the possibility of accidents,’ Sylvie said.

‘Accidents happen in every walk of life,’ Molly added sagely. ‘You just have to be as prepared as possible.’

‘Exactly.’ Robin took a deep breath and turned away. ‘Now, where am I going to put him? I can’t leave him in here.’

‘We’ve set up a basket in the kitchen,’ her dad said. ‘We’ll take him back down now, love. Just packing the last bits into the car.’

Robin nodded and went to pass the kitten back, then realized she wasn’t ready to give up either the furry bundle or her parents quite yet. She followed them to the doorway, then turned.

Jim waved her away. ‘Go on, we’ll be fine with the fish.’

‘All under control,’ Molly said, smiling. ‘Bye, Mr and Mrs B, have a great trip. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!’

The three of them stood on the front step of the Campion Bay Guesthouse. The April day was crisp but clear, the wind buffeting Robin’s curls around her face, the chill snapping at her fingers and cheeks.

‘So you can start on the attic room now, then?’ her dad asked wistfully. ‘What’s that one going to be called?’

‘Starcross,’ Robin said. ‘I’m going to get a telescope for the balcony.’

‘You’ve worked wonders,’ her mum said. ‘It looks like a new place before it’s even finished. I can’t imagine …’ She shook her head. ‘We just didn’t have the fight any more, but with all that you’ve done, I wonder if we should be staying, helping you. It’s a huge task, running this place on your own, my darling.’

‘You’ve already helped me so much, though,’ Robin said, a lump forming in her throat, ‘with the renovations over the last few months. And you know I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without some of Grandma’s inheritance.’

‘You’re keeping the Campion Bay Guesthouse going, love,’ her dad said. ‘You have no idea how proud we are that you’re taking it over, what it means to us to see you here – to think of you running it – and to see how far you’ve come since you lost Neve.’ He embraced her, his hug solid and comforting. For a moment, Robin wondered how she’d ever be able to survive without it, but then she steeled herself. Now was not the time to fall apart.

‘I’m doing it for you,’ Robin said, ‘and for her. For all of you. And I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.’

‘You’ve got The Bible?’ her mum asked. ‘It’s got all you need to know, all our tips and tricks. Though of course you have your own ideas, and you’ll probably end up adding to it more than you refer to it.’

‘It’s got pride of place,’ Robin said. ‘I’ll use it all the time.’

‘And Skype us, won’t you?’

‘You too,’ Robin said. ‘Call me once you’ve arrived.’ Their goodbyes seemed far too short for such a permanent departure, but once she’d watched the maroon Volvo estate disappear down Goldcrest Road and turn the corner, her cheeks streaked with tears, she couldn’t feel her feet for the cold. She turned to see Molly standing on the top step, the kitten in her arms.

‘No time for tears,’ Molly said gently. ‘We’ve got the last room to transform. You, me, and this bundle of fun. Any idea what you’re going to call him?’ Robin joined her friend in the hallway, accepting the kitten from her and bringing his warm, purring body close to her face. There was a tiny half-moon of white beneath his chin, but other than that he was a perfect, silky black. She thought of her inspiration for Starcross, thought of Neve and how much she would have loved a cat – a mascot for Once in a Blue Moon Days.

‘Eclipse,’ she said, kissing the kitten’s nose. ‘I’m going to call him Eclipse.’

It was the last day of the old Campion Bay Guesthouse, the last day before Robin opened up her doors and invited in her guests. The website was up, with images of all the new rooms. On the first floor was Rockpool, with its aquarium feature, and Wilderness, the reclaimed wood furniture offset by subtle, outdoor hues in sage green and powder blue, injections of colour coming in the form of stained-glass murals on the walls. On the second floor was Canvas, her gallery-inspired room with Arthur Durrant’s Campion Bay at Dawn as the feature painting, set against a white and pine background, and Andalusia, which was in the style of Neve’s favourite region in Spain, her home country. For this room, Robin had concentrated on textures to create the effect she wanted. There were fabrics in warm reds and golds, a terracotta feature wall stood out from the clean white of the other three, and the furniture was polished walnut save for the black wrought-iron bed frame.

Starcross had had to wait until last, when her parents had gone and she could move into their old rooms downstairs. They had worked solidly, finishing it in less than a month. It was the room she was most proud of, and most apprehensive about. While the other rooms were influenced by either her or Neve’s passions – Wilderness and Rockpool signifying her return to Campion Bay, the beach and the exposed wild land along the top of the cliffs; Canvas and Andalusia representing Neve’s love of art and of her home country – Starcross belonged to them both. It was about her fascination with the stars and Neve’s compulsion to find meaning in them. It had been Robin’s childhood bedroom and was modelled on the luxury suite Neve had fallen for. It held more meaning than she would ever reveal to anybody else, because it held pieces of both their hearts.

The new, pealing doorbell resounded through the guesthouse and Robin stopped grappling with the GuestSmart software to go and answer it. On the doorstep she found Molly, Paige, Paige’s boyfriend Adam, Mrs Harris from the Seaview Hotel and Tim, wearing an expertly crumpled white linen shirt, a pair of sunglasses wedged in the open collar. A black gleaming Audi was parked against the kerb.

‘Surprise!’ Paige shouted.

‘What’s going on?’ Robin glanced behind her to check that Eclipse, three months old and adventurous despite his tiny legs, hadn’t followed her to the doorway.

‘Your social media campaign must have worked,’ Molly said, ‘because everyone seems to be aware that you’re relaunching tomorrow. Paige, Adam and I wanted to have a shufty at the finished rooms, and we picked up these stragglers on the way.’

‘Tim’s brought champagne, so Mum said we’d best let him in.’ Paige grinned and Tim caught Robin’s eye, nodding her a greeting. Robin returned it with a nervous smile.

‘Well then,’ she said, ‘you’d better come in.’ She let them file into the wide hall and showed them into Sea Shanty, which ran the whole length of the house, the sea view at the front, French doors to the patio at the back. The garden could be reached through Sea Shanty or through the kitchen, and similarly Sea Shanty had two doors – one straight into the kitchen, and one into the hall. When she was much younger, Robin and her school friends had made a game out of running in a loop through the kitchen, living room and hallway, until one of her friends, too giddy from going round and round, had broken her toe by running into the doorframe instead of through the gap.

The room was split into two areas, the fireplace acting as a divider, and the long table was towards the back of the house, nearest the patio garden. It had wooden benches rather than seats, and Robin had decorated it with flowers in vases, lighthouse-shaped salt and pepper shakers, and a ceramic bowl filled with interesting shells and pebbles she had picked up on the beach.

Towards the front of the house the room became a cosy living area, with navy sofas looking out on the sea, blue-and-white striped cushions and a patterned rug over the floorboards. Hints of postbox red added brightness; the shade of a reading lamp, a print on the wall of a rainy city scene, monochrome apart from red umbrellas. Against the near wall was Mum and Dad’s ancient upright piano, freshly tuned for whenever Robin found the time – and courage – to play it again.

‘Can I give Mrs Harris a tour?’ Paige asked.

Robin looked at the older woman, wondering what her motive was. She had always been friendly with Robin’s mum and dad, and had never shown signs of being outwardly competitive. Now she looked somewhat disgruntled, her beady eyes trained on Robin, her arms folded over a green flowery apron.

‘Let me come with you,’ Robin said slowly. ‘I’d like to show Mrs Harris myself.’

‘And I have to show Adam Starcross,’ Paige said. ‘It’s my favourite room, and we’ve not seen it finished yet. We’re going to stay in it when—’ She stopped abruptly as she caught Molly’s eye, and Robin saw the look that passed between them.

‘Come on then,’ Robin said, hoping to defuse the tension, ‘let’s all go together.’

‘Tim and I will sort out the champagne.’ Molly took the bottle from him, and while Tim showed no signs of being upset, Robin imagined he hadn’t expected to share it with quite so many people. He gave Molly an amused smile and followed her into the kitchen.

Robin let Paige lead the tour, her and Adam’s enthusiasm at the rooms they’d worked on together giving it the kind of positive sales pitch that Robin had dreamed about, but Mrs Harris remained resolutely silent. She peered closely at everything – the spotlights and sound-systems built into the walls, a stained-glass mural in Wilderness, the freestanding bathtub in the rustic en suite of Andalusia – the only bathroom big enough for more than a drench shower. As the tour continued and Mrs Harris didn’t utter a single word of delight or approval, Robin’s nerves took hold. Was this how everyone was going to react to the new bedrooms? After a fortnight without bookings to make sure she had time to get everything finished, she had four out of the five rooms occupied from lunchtime tomorrow. The thought that they might not like what she’d done was too traumatic to contemplate.

Paige pushed open the door of Canvas and Mrs Harris stepped inside, her attention immediately turning to Campion Bay at Dawn. Robin held her breath, and a quick glance in Paige and Adam’s direction elicited uneasy shrugs from them both.

‘Where did this come from?’ the older woman asked, failing to turn round.

‘Uhm, well, it was painted by a local artist. Most of these were, actually,’ Robin said, gesturing at the other paintings. ‘Some Mum and Dad had dotted throughout the guesthouse, and others I’ve been buying in the run-up to today.’

‘It’s very modern,’ Mrs Harris said, turning. Her hands were squeezed into tight fists on her hips, and her iron-grey hair was piled up on her head, accentuating the sharpness of her features. ‘What’s the point of having so many paintings in here?’

‘Because they’re beautiful,’ Paige rushed, and Robin was touched by her loyalty. ‘The whole room is. All the rooms are. Whether you want the calm and quiet of a gallery, or to be transported to rural Spain, or get to sleep under the stars or on the beach without the cold or sand in your pyjamas. You get all the experience but with comfort to match. Don’t you see, Mrs Harris? I would pay all I had to sleep in one of these rooms, to have an unforgettable experience.’

Robin inhaled, a lump forming in her throat at Paige’s explanation, at the way she had understood her vision for the guesthouse so completely. ‘Paige—’ she started, her voice a whisper.

‘Why change it?’ Mrs Harris asked, cutting her off. ‘Sylvie and Ian had these rooms lovely and simple. Why all the fancy-pants arty stuff?’

‘I wanted to refresh the guesthouse, to try something a bit different.’

‘Change is unnecessary,’ Mrs Harris said. ‘And mark my words, the grass isn’t always greener; the sky could be just as grey, the tea just as weak on the other side.’

‘Right,’ Robin said, wondering if Mrs Harris was about to launch into a cliché-ridden song. ‘But it can be positive. And everything moves forward, whether we want it to or not. Why not be in control of it?’

Mrs Harris gave her such a long, piercing look that Robin felt her skin prickle.

‘Do you want to come and have a glass of champagne?’ she asked, an edge of desperation in her voice.

‘At eleven in the morning? Good Lord, no. This is what I mean. You with your crazy rooms and your drinking in the morning and your fancy bathtubs. Why is that man here? That developer? You’re conspiring with him, aren’t you? I know what he wants to do, and you’re a part of it. If he had his way, Goldcrest Road would be razed to the ground and replaced with a huge, seaside shopping complex. This,’ she said, jabbing her finger at Robin, ‘is the first step.’

‘No, not at all. How could—’ But the older woman walked straight past her. ‘Mrs Harris?’ Robin hurried after her.

‘I’m going home now,’ Mrs Harris called up. ‘I’m going to see to my own guests. They know what to expect, they know they can trust me.’

Mrs Harris swept down the stairs and out of the front door, leaving a trail of sweetly floral perfume in her wake. Molly appeared in the doorway of Sea Shanty, a glass of champagne in her hand, and Tim peered out over her shoulder.

‘Mrs Harris didn’t like the rooms, then?’ Molly asked. ‘Don’t pay any attention to her, she’s just jealous because her hotel’s stuck several centuries back.’

Robin stopped on the bottom step and leaned her arms on the banisters. ‘She accused me of being involved in some huge, destructive plot to demolish Goldcrest Road and replace it with a shopping complex.’

‘What?’ Molly’s eyes widened. ‘What planet is she on?’

‘Planet suspicion,’ Robin said, her gaze going to Tim, who looked as relaxed as ever, no suggestion that Mrs Harris had touched a nerve. ‘She thinks I’m in cahoots with you.’

‘Me?’ Tim’s eyebrows shot up.

‘You. You’re responsible for this plan, apparently, and me taking over the guesthouse is the first step.’

‘Because launching a brand new seaside B&B is definitely the right course of action when the building’s about to be demolished.’ Molly rolled her eyes and tapped her toes against the floorboards.

Robin sighed. ‘She’s nervous. She feels threatened – not by this place, specifically, but by any kind of change. Apparently things should just carry on, exactly the same as they always were.’ She caught Tim’s gaze and he flashed her a knowing smile. Robin swallowed. ‘I’ll go and talk to her later,’ she rushed. ‘See if I can reassure her that Goldcrest Road isn’t about to disappear in a cloud of fancy restaurants and TK Maxx stores.’

‘God, I’d love a TK Maxx in Campion Bay. This playsuit came from the Bridport store.’ Molly did a slow twirl in the hallway, and Robin nodded approvingly. The playsuit was hot orange, Molly’s lipstick matching, the overall effect with her blonde hair and smooth skin was tanned, summery and utterly gorgeous. From Tim’s expression, she could see he was also a fan.

‘Don’t give him any ideas,’ Robin said and then, realizing how that might sound, tried to clarify. ‘About building a TK Maxx, not about …’ She gestured lamely at Molly’s outfit. ‘Though of course it’s up to you what you … It isn’t any of my …’ She stalled, mortification presenting itself as a red flush across her cheeks, her friend and her ex staring at her with confusion. ‘Is there a glass of champagne for me?’

‘Of course!’ Molly thrust one into her hands. ‘Where are Adam and Paige?’

‘Still upstairs.’ Robin clinked her glass with Tim’s, and then Molly’s, her toast lodged in her throat as she saw Molly’s expression.

‘You left Paige and Adam alone in one of the bedrooms? It wasn’t Starcross, was it?’

‘What’s Starcross?’ Tim asked. ‘When do I get a tour?’

‘They’re in Canvas,’ Robin said. ‘And I don’t see why you’re worried. It’s daylight, and it’s not like they’ve booked the room, is it?’

Molly shook her head, pityingly. ‘They’re sixteen, Robin. I find it hard to trust them alone together in any room with a soft surface – or a wall, for that matter.’ Molly hurried up the stairs, her low heels tap-tapping on the wood. ‘We need to watch those two, it’s worse than when she was a toddler. I thought her getting into the biscuit cupboard was bad enough, but now when I compare it to Adam getting in – well, you get the picture.’

‘I heard that, Mum!’ Paige screeched. ‘Oh my God, could you be any more embarrassing? We’re just Snapchatting!’

When they were alone, Tim took a step towards Robin. ‘She’s worried about her daughter losing her virginity in one of the guesthouse rooms? Wouldn’t that be a turn-up.’ Robin focused on his chin, on how close his shave was, rather than meeting his gaze. But she couldn’t help smiling, the memory distant but still there – the excitement, nerves, the clumsiness, the fear of being discovered by her parents as they snuck into the bedroom – now Wilderness – when it was unoccupied. At the time her attic bedroom hadn’t seemed exciting enough for what they were planning, and there was more chance of them being discovered there, despite it being at the top of the house.

‘You brought your dad’s homemade wine,’ she said, the smile becoming a grin as she finally caught his eye. ‘It was awful. And those Superman boxer shorts.’

‘Hey,’ Tim said, but he was smiling too. ‘I seem to remember you had made an effort as well. Lilac matching underwear.’

‘From Debenhams,’ Robin said. ‘I loved that underwear. I felt so grown up.’

‘I was fond of it too. God, it was awkward, wasn’t it?’

‘It was,’ Robin admitted. ‘But somehow perfect.’

‘You’d better not let Molly know that you’re an advocate of losing your L-plates at sixteen, or she’ll never let Paige round here again.’

‘I’m not an advocate, you’re the one who brought it up.’

‘It was hard not to,’ Tim said. ‘This house is full of memories.’ He glanced around the hall, as if picturing how it had looked all those years ago. ‘I seem to remember we had lots of opportunities to get better.’

Robin swallowed. ‘We did.’ While the memory of their first time together was sweet and nostalgic, and held no lingering feelings of passion for her, there were plenty of memories that did. She was finding that, though she’d spent less than an hour with him since she’d been back, those feelings were being brought to the surface, like a stick churning the mud up from the bottom of a lake. They were swirling through her, clouding her thoughts, not entirely welcome.

‘Robin,’ Tim murmured, his face close to hers.

‘I need to get on, I need to check everything’s ready for the guests.’

‘You’ve not shown me the rooms yet.’

‘Another time,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sorry, I know you’ve come here specially, that you’ve brought champagne.’

‘I can bring more,’ he said easily. ‘Just tell me when.’

She nodded. ‘I appreciate you coming round today.’

‘I wouldn’t miss it. Now that we’re reacquainted, I feel like I want to know more about the last fourteen years. I want us to get to know each other again.’

‘I do too,’ Robin whispered, his eyes on her suddenly uncomfortable. She forced herself to look at him, at the linen shirt, his blond curls and his open, easy expression. She wanted to move forward with her life, to start a new chapter, but Robin was in danger of being dragged backwards by her ex-boyfriend, whether deliberately or not. As he said goodbye, giving her another warm, lingering kiss on the cheek, and Robin was left standing alone in the hall, she wondered how much danger she was actually in.

Robin had never been able to resist Tim. Only the pain of him being unfaithful while they were trying to make long-distance love work had been devastating enough to sever her attachment to him all those years ago. Now, despite the growing up she’d done, and all that she’d been through, she felt herself weakening in his presence. But she wasn’t convinced the feelings were real, as opposed to simply the cosy nostalgia of happy memories. She felt all at once like the grown-up, thirty-three-year-old Tim was a complete stranger, and equally, that she knew every inch of him.

But she had to push thoughts of Tim aside. In twenty-four hours’ time her first guests would be arriving at the new and improved Campion Bay Guesthouse, landlady Ms Robin Brennan, ably supported on breakfasts and changeovers by Paige Westwood, with Eclipse the kitten adding the cute factor. Suddenly worried that the kitten had strayed somewhere he shouldn’t have, Robin left Molly and Paige quietly bickering upstairs and went to seek out the newest member of the Brennan household.