The Once in a Blue Moon Guesthouse
Part 3
Do Not Disturb
CRESSIDA MCLAUGHLIN

Copyright

Harper

An imprint of HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd

The News Building

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper 2017

Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2017

Cover layout design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2017

Cover illustration © Alice Stevenson

Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © March 2017

ISBN: 9780008219260

Version: 2017-03-03

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Cressida McLaughlin

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Robin Brennan opened the oven door and, waiting for a waft of steam to disperse, took a second batch of moon-shaped chocolate-chip cookies out and slid them on to the cooling rack. She stared at them, her hands on her hips. The cookies, once they were cold, would go in the heavily stoppered glass jars she had bought at a gift shop in the centre of Campion Bay, and would sit on the landing next to a sign that said Midnight cookies; please help yourself.

Running a successful guesthouse, her mum Sylvie had written in The Bible, the guesthouse manual she had given to Robin when she and Robin’s dad had moved to France the previous month, is all about attention to detail. That’s what guests will notice, that’s what will complete their stay and make them want to come back again and again.

Robin hoped the cookies would be popular with her guests, but wasn’t convinced they would complete anyone’s stay. She had thought that making them, mixing the dough and chunking chocolate up into irregular chips, using the cutter to create moon shapes, would take her mind off what had happened the day before. So far, however, it had failed.

She had been running the Campion Bay Guesthouse for two weeks. It was her third Monday, and she was confident that, for most of her guests, the experience of staying had been a good one. But there was one guest – and Robin wasn’t sure he was even a guest any more – with whom she’d managed to get it spectacularly wrong. She started tidying up the kitchen, putting the cooking implements in the dishwasher while her kitten, Eclipse, watched her from the doorway.

Will Nightingale had arrived in Campion Bay the day Robin had opened the doors of her newly refurbished guesthouse. He was the nephew of Tabitha Thomas, who had lived in the house next door, number four Goldcrest Road, until her death the year before. Will had made the journey from London to sort through his aunt’s possessions and decide what to do with the house, and had come to Robin for shelter after discovering that Tabitha’s house was uninhabitable; a home for mice and spiders rather than people.

Putting him up in her most precious room, Starcross, Robin had liked the tall, green-eyed man instantly, his easy manner and directness compelling her to offer to help him with the house clear-out. They had been getting to know each other; she had taken him on a tour of Campion Bay the previous day, and had found herself in his arms, kissing him, as the rain fell. The memory made Robin shiver; the feel of his lips on hers, his strong arms holding her, had felt powerful and magical and right, even though she hadn’t known him long.

But then everything had gone wrong.

Once she had cleaned the counters, Robin poured herself a glass of water and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. Eclipse jumped immediately on to her lap, his tail tickling her nose as he circled and circled on her thighs, trying to find the most comfortable position. Robin scrolled to the messages in her phone, rereading the text her friend Molly had sent her, the one that she’d stupidly asked Will to read aloud. It was like picking a scab, it was painful and the result was inevitable, but she couldn’t help it.

Number four Goldcrest Road was a focus of interest in Campion Bay. The seafront houses were desirable properties, spacious and elegant with beautiful views. Robin’s childhood sweetheart, Tim Lewis, now a successful property developer, had been sniffing around Tabitha’s house with a view to converting it into swish apartments. The other residents of the road – her friend Molly, Mrs Harris who owned the Seaview Hotel, Ashley and Roxy at the Campion Bay Teashop – were opposed to such a development, and once Will had arrived, Molly had come up with the idea of a charm offensive. She had been encouraging them all to be extra nice to him, to show him what a wonderful place Campion Bay was in the hope that he would decide to hold on to his aunt’s house, and keep Tim Lewis and his unpopular plans at bay.

Robin hadn’t felt entirely comfortable with Molly’s idea, but once the acts of kindness had begun and Will had been genuinely touched by them – the invitation to dinner at Taverna on the Bay, cupcakes from Ashley, mate’s rates at Molly’s beauty parlour, Groom with a View – she hadn’t had the heart to tell him. Then Molly’s text had laid bare the plan, and Will had assumed that the time Robin had spent with him, helping at Tabitha’s house, the tour of Campion Bay, had all been part of the scheme to stop Tim buying number four.

He hadn’t given her a chance to explain that everything she’d said and done was because she liked him. Ever since he’d turned up on her doorstep with his smile and his warmth and his gorgeous dog Darcy, she had been able to think of little else. She had wanted to spend time with him, for their relationship to grow – and it had. But then, after the text, she could see how it must appear, and now she didn’t know how to prove to him that her feelings were genuine.

She heard the front door open and laughter drift down the hallway. Lifting Eclipse into her arms, she went to greet her guests.

Dean and Katy were a young couple staying in her Wilderness room for a few days. They both worked in London, but Dean’s granddad lived in Weymouth, a little further down the Dorset coast.

‘Good morning?’ Robin asked.

Katy nodded. ‘We’ve been on the beach, and booked a boat tour for tomorrow. It’s going to take us along the coast, spotting wildlife and exploring the cliffs, with a fish-and-chip lunch included.’

‘A bit different from the Thames Clipper,’ Dean said, chuckling.

‘It sounds wonderful. And the weather’s supposed to pick up, according to the forecast.’

It had been raining on and off since the previous afternoon, and Robin felt that it suited her mood perfectly. But, if the sun was set to make an appearance, then maybe things would start looking up for her too.

‘I quite like the thought of a wild and windy trip, though,’ Katy said. ‘The boat’s got indoor seating if it gets too rough.’

‘I can lend you waterproofs, just in case?’

Dean shook his head. ‘We’re fine, thanks. We’re kitted out if it’s wet. But fingers crossed for sun.’

‘Can I get you anything now?’ Robin asked. ‘I could do some sandwiches.’

‘We’re going to visit Dean’s granddad once we’ve changed,’ Katy said, pointing at trousers that looked as if they’d seen too much sea spray. ‘Though the smell coming from your kitchen is mouthwatering.’

‘Ah,’ Robin said, smiling. ‘That’s something for later. Keep your eyes peeled when you get back.’

Katy’s eyes widened. ‘Ooh. OK, we will. Thank you.’

‘Oh – I almost forgot,’ Dean said, stopping on the bottom step. ‘We bumped into the guy next door as we were coming in. He asked me to give you this.’ He reached into his pocket, and Robin held her breath. He could only mean Will. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left yesterday afternoon, though she’d knocked on Tabitha’s front door and tried calling his number, listening to his voicemail message – Hi, you’ve reached Will’s phone, but unfortunately not Will … – more times than she could count.

Dean handed her an envelope. There was more in it than paper and, her heart sinking, she felt the familiar oval shape of the key ring attached to the room keys she gave guests.

‘Is everything OK?’ Katy asked. ‘He was staying here, wasn’t he?’

Robin nodded. ‘Only until his aunt’s house was in a better condition,’ she said, thinking as she said the words that it wasn’t, that there was no way he could be comfortable staying next door. ‘Thanks for this.’

‘No worries,’ Dean said.

‘He didn’t … say anything? Give you a message?’ She hoped she didn’t sound too desperate.

‘No, he just asked us to give this to you,’ Katy said apologetically. ‘There might be a note in the envelope.’

‘Of course there will be. That makes sense.’ She gave them what she hoped was a warm smile, and waited until they’d gone to their room, the envelope feeling unnaturally heavy in her hand.

Robin made herself a cup of tea and, Eclipse taking up one of his favourite places – lying across her shoulders – she walked through to Sea Shanty and settled on one of the sofas. The sea view was spectacular. Grey clouds bubbled on the horizon, dark streaks of rain far out over the water, while the May sun broke through closer to land, making the sea glitter. Robin spent a moment looking for a rainbow and then, when she couldn’t find one, turned her attention to the envelope.

Only two days before, she’d been sitting here with Will, another envelope in her hands, listening to him tell her how he’d discovered letters Tabitha had written to her brother, Will’s dad, trying to repair their relationship after he’d disowned her. Will had been shocked to discover that his dad had let Tabitha’s romance with his business rival come between them, the callousness of his behaviour revealed in the returned letters. Will had come to Robin with the revelation, letting her in on a personal, heartbreaking secret. Now, he wouldn’t even answer her calls.

She took a deep breath and opened the envelope, put the keys to one side and pulled out the single sheet of paper. The words were written neatly in biro.

Robin, take what I owe you from my account. I won’t be staying in Starcross any more.

It was followed by a Visa credit-card number, expiry date and his name as it appeared on the card: Mr W. D. Nightingale. She sighed, his anger evident in the formality of his words. He hadn’t included his card security number, so even if he wasn’t prepared to let her explain, she still needed to have what was bound to be an extremely awkward conversation with him. She put the note aside and picked up her tea, staring unseeingly out of the window.

She would have to go and clean Starcross, get it ready for new guests. The thought that Will was no longer staying there, sleeping beneath the pinprick lights, was so disheartening that Robin almost couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was a toss-up between wiping all signs of Will from her guesthouse and going to see the one person who, other than her, was partly responsible for the rift.

Molly had been out with her daughter Paige when Robin had tried to speak to her yesterday, but she had a gap in her bookings this afternoon. Robin hadn’t yet told her what had happened, so Molly didn’t know that Will had seen her text message. Now she would have to explain that, while this was the least of her concerns, Will was no longer seeing Campion Bay – or any of them – in a favourable light. He might well have decided that selling his aunt’s house to Tim Lewis was the only option he had left.

‘God, Robin, you look awful,’ Molly said when she opened her pink front door to her friend. ‘What the hell’s happened?’

‘Are you up for making coffee?’ Robin asked, her heart pounding at the thought of explaining everything to her. Not because she thought Molly would blame her for Will finding out about the charm offensive, but because her emotions were already dangerously close to the surface, and she’d never been able to hold them back from the woman she had been friends with since secondary school.

‘Of course,’ Molly said, shooting her a concerned look and leading her through to her pristine white kitchen. Neither of them spoke until they were sitting opposite each other at the central island. Robin clutched her mug, staring down at the chocolate shavings on her latte froth.

‘I would have thought you’d be on cloud nine after yesterday,’ Molly said cautiously. ‘After what happened with Will. Paige couldn’t wait to tell me. She was delirious with such a prime bit of gossip.’

‘Paige?’ Robin asked, incredulous. She had been convinced it was Maggie, the owner of the crazy-golf course, who had seen them kissing and passed it on. ‘She was the one who told you about us?’

Molly nodded. ‘Who else would have let me in on something like that? She’d just finished cleaning at yours and was on her way back here when she spotted you. She said you were oblivious to the rain, that it was like The Notebook – whatever that is. You don’t seem particularly happy about it. What’s happened?’

‘I bet you were so pleased that the plan was working, that Will looked like he was happy here.’ She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but wasn’t entirely sure she’d managed it.

Molly sat back, taking a pink wafer biscuit from the plate between them. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Your plan,’ Robin said, ‘to get Will to stay in Campion Bay, and not sell number four to Tim. The cupcakes from Ashley, the night you organised at the taverna – all your scheming to get everyone to show him how welcome he was.’

Molly was shaking her head. ‘I didn’t get anyone to do any of those things.’

Robin frowned. ‘But your campaign, the one you cooked up on Will’s first day – the charm offensive. All that kindness people were showing him. You were behind it.’

‘I bloody wasn’t,’ Molly said, sitting up straight. ‘That campaign stuff wasn’t serious. Of course I want Will to stay, but all I did was tell Ashley and Roxy, Stefano and Nicolas, that Tabitha’s nephew was here for a while, and that he seemed like a great guy, a chip off the old Tabitha block.’ Molly looked at her in disbelief. ‘You thought I’d organised all those things? That I got Ashley to take him cakes and asked Nicolas to invite you for a discount night at the taverna?’

‘You didn’t?’ Robin’s voice was dry, her words a whisper.

‘No way! I was being flippant, that’s all. Besides, even before I’d thought of it, you were charming the socks off him. As I said in my text, you’re a publicity campaign all by yourself. Robin, what’s wrong? Please, tell me.’

Robin rubbed her eyes. ‘So what Ashley did, and Nicolas, they were being genuinely friendly, welcoming Will to Campion Bay?’

‘Yes, Robin.’

‘But you called it a campaign! You said we needed to get him to stay.’

Molly leaned her elbows on the island and put her hand over Robin’s. Her blue eyes were soft. ‘How long have you known me? You seriously thought I’d be capable of orchestrating some kind of military-precision scheme to convince Will that he belonged in Campion Bay? Obviously we’d all much rather have a friendly, sexy neighbour like him than see the house and its blue plaque ripped apart for the sake of Tim Lewis’s profit margins, but that’s up to Will, isn’t it? He has to make his own decisions. The odd show of generosity isn’t going to sway him one way or the other. But falling in love with a beautiful, intelligent woman who runs her own luxury business – now that could be a game changer.’

As Molly explained, the sickening realisation dawned on Robin. She’d mistaken Molly’s enthusiasm and excitement at Will appearing, her suggestions of ways to make him a permanent neighbour, as something more calculating. It had all seemed to fit: the way the other residents of Goldcrest Road had been treating Will. That’s what came of having lived in London for over a decade: she’d got out of the Campion Bay community mindset. She’d taken Molly’s suggestion of a campaign and the displays of kindness, put two and two together, and come up with five.

‘You thought I’d planned it all?’ Molly asked.

Robin nodded and swallowed. ‘And when Will commented on it, I thought you’d put your plan into action. To put him off the scent, I told him that people who live by the seaside are friendlier than people in London and that was how we treated all our new neighbours. But that was actually the truth.’

‘Too right it was. We were the same with you when you came back here. But maybe you didn’t see it because of Neve. You were grieving, oblivious, a lot of the time.’

‘I remember your kindness,’ Robin said softly. ‘I’ll never forget that. But … Oh, God, Molly. I’ve got it so wrong.’

‘What do you mean? Will you please tell me why you’ve turned up on my doorstep looking like a ghost, instead of someone who’s spent the last twenty-four hours snogging the most gorgeous guy in the vicinity?’

Robin looked up at her friend, and tried to keep her dismay at bay. ‘Will saw your text.’

Molly’s eyes widened.

‘In fact, he read it out to me. All that stuff about me being a one-woman publicity campaign, that I’d saved the day and got the guy; Goldcrest Road thanks you for keeping number four out of Tim’s evil clutches.’ She’d read it so many times that she knew it off by heart, and now she watched Molly’s curious expression transform into one of horror, which confirmed that the situation was as bad as she thought it was.

‘Robin, what the hell? None of that— I was joking, you know that, right? I mean, great if Will doesn’t sell to Tim but … I was being silly. I was just so happy that you and he— I could tell that you liked him, and that the feeling was mutual, the first time I met him. That’s what I was hoping would happen. I mentioned the house and Tim as a joke, because we’d talked about it when Will arrived, because it would be the last thing on your mind. But he read it out? Shit, Robin. What happened?’

Robin sighed, her insides shrivelling. ‘That kiss at the golf course, it felt so right, Molly. It was amazing and overwhelming. We came back to the guesthouse, and I …’ She blushed as she remembered the anticipation, the recklessness of taking him to bed. ‘I was tidying up my room, and your text came through. I asked him to read it, thinking it was probably from one of the guests, and he … he did.’

Molly closed her eyes. ‘And you didn’t explain that I was only being cheeky?’

‘But I thought your campaign was real, Molly! I thought that you were genuinely thanking me for getting Will to stay, and so I – I told him all the generosity, from Ashley, Stefano and Nicolas, was so that he’d fall for Campion Bay and Tim wouldn’t be able to buy the house. I didn’t want to lie to him any more.’

‘So he thinks we’ve been playing him since day one?’

‘He thinks that’s what I was doing, too. Offering to help him clear out Tabitha’s house, being so … so …’

‘Obliging? Warm towards him?’

Robin pulled at her hair. ‘When Tim turned up that night, sniffing around Will like a hyena, I encouraged him to keep going with the sort-out, saying that he owed it to Tabitha to go through all her things properly. I meant it, but I was also angry with Tim for being so blatant and I wanted to put Will off him. But now he’s going to think that all I cared about was the house.’

‘No, Robin. That makes no sense. It’s unfortunate – it’s bloody crap – that he thinks we were only being kind to him to protect the seafront, but that’s my fault for not being clearer with you.’

‘I should have known,’ Robin said. ‘Or at least asked you if you were really behind it.’

‘I shouldn’t have assumed you’d get that I was joking. But Will has to realise that you care about him, that you weren’t being the hostess with the mostest for the sake of some bricks and mortar. You kissed, for God’s sake, and – I assume – were planning on taking it further until my ill-timed text messed it up.’

Robin nodded and picked up a wafer biscuit. ‘I like him a lot, Molly. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this about someone. I can’t remember feeling so hopeful, so exhilarated since – since Neve died.’ She inhaled, trying to calm her nerves. It was harder than she’d thought, admitting to her friend how important Will was to her. She’d known him for two weeks; was she just hanging on to him because he had seemed to like her as much as she liked him? She didn’t think that was it; her feelings for Will went deeper, settling into the fabric of her. She was even more aware of them now that he was out of reach, now that she might have ruined their relationship irreversibly.

Molly squeezed her hand, her expression solemn. ‘Then we have to make it right. What happened after he saw the text, and you told him we’d all been charming to him for our own gain?’

Robin chewed the inside of her cheek. This was the hardest part to recount. ‘He was angry. He walked out, after … after he told me that I must have thought he was an idiot, treating him like that, making him believe that we all liked him. I tried to tell him that my feelings were real, but he left. He didn’t stay in Starcross last night and then, this morning, he got one of the other guests to return his key and his credit-card details, so I can take payment for his stay.’

‘Ouch!’ Molly whispered. ‘He’s hurting; that’s understandable. But once we explain to him that you got it wrong, that there never was a campaign, that we were only trying to make him feel welcome, then it will be fine.’ Molly’s voice was bright, but Robin could tell that her friend didn’t believe it would be that easy.

‘He was so upset. He said he had begun to fall for me, that he had started to think about his future here.’

‘He’s upset because he cares. As hard as it is to hear, that’s a good sign. If he wasn’t bothered about your friendship, about what was happening, then he would have shrugged, said we were all bastards, and moved on. He cares about you, so there’s hope that we can rescue the situation.’

Robin ate a second pink wafer biscuit, thinking how typical it was of Molly to have biscuits that matched the decoration of her beauty parlour. Was it possible that Molly was right, and Will’s feelings for her meant there was still a chance for them, or had her assumed betrayal gone too deep?

‘Let me talk to him,’ Molly said, patting her hand.

‘But he thinks you were behind the charm offensive.’

‘So I’ll tell him the truth. And if he’s a stubborn bugger, I’ll tell him again and again until he believes it. He’ll listen to me because he isn’t falling for me. He’s probably not feeling very rational about you at the moment.’

‘You think that’ll work?’

Molly nodded. ‘I do. Will’s a nice guy – you wouldn’t be head over heels for him if he wasn’t – so he’ll listen to reason eventually.’

Robin stared at the tabletop, wondering if she could let her friend try to fix things. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Molly – she had more fire and determination in her petite frame than Robin did – but would she say everything that Robin wanted to convey? Could she give her this task, which, while daunting, would potentially be the difference between Will forgiving her and never talking to her again?

‘Thank you for offering,’ she said. ‘But I have to do this. What will he think of me if I can’t even face up to what I’ve done?’

Molly appraised her, her blue eyes serious. ‘I totally get it. Of course you need to speak to him. But that doesn’t stop me feeling partly responsible.’ She pressed her hand against her chest.

Robin shook her head. ‘You didn’t get the wrong end of the stick, and you didn’t let Will read your text messages.’

‘What this boils down to, Robin, is a simple misunderstanding. We haven’t been using Will as a weapon against Tim’s designs on the house, we’ve been kind to him, but he – with some inadvertent help from you – thinks that our friendship is fake. Doesn’t it sound straightforward when I say it like that?’

‘It does,’ Robin agreed, exhaling. ‘I’ll go and see him later, and that’s what I’ll tell him. Thank you, Molly. I bet you thought you were done picking pieces of me off the floor.’

‘I’m your friend,’ Molly said. ‘I’ll put you back together again as often as you need it. But this one, I’m sure, is an easy fix. Let me know as soon as you’ve spoken to him.’ She gave Robin such a reassuring grin that she allowed herself to feel a glimmer of hope.

Maybe it was that simple. Maybe, once she had explained it to Will, he would see that she had been confused, and realise that nobody’s kindness had been engineered to get him to hold on to the house, least of all hers. Molly sent her back to the guesthouse in a sharp, sunny breeze that suggested the bad weather had been a temporary blip.

Robin found the tasks she needed to do around the guesthouse, cleaning and polishing, replenishing tea, coffee and biscuits and turning down the sheets, cathartic. She went into Starcross, but decided she wouldn’t do the full changeover clean just yet, not until she had spoken to Will. All the sheets got changed on a Saturday anyway, so longer-term guests had fresh bedding too, and she didn’t want to assume he was gone for good – she’d rather believe the opposite.

She wanted to wait until evening, when Will was more likely to have finished work on Tabitha’s house for the day, and she wouldn’t have to talk while he was sorting through drawers full of paperwork or wedged half under the kitchen sink. She fiddled with the timer in Starcross, making the pinprick lights dim in and out, and tried to convince herself she wasn’t putting it off, taking time to summon up the courage to see him. If she waited until she felt completely ready, then it would never happen.

As dusk began to slip gently over the sea, muting the pinks and peaches of sunset into silky blue, the guesthouse was gleaming. Some of the guests were in their rooms, and Charles and Elisabeth, the old couple from Orkney, were enjoying a night at Taverna on the Bay on Robin’s recommendation. Outside, the promenade lamps glowed softly, competing against the growing gloom.

Robin felt a sudden determination. She would explain everything to Will and he’d forgive her, and then she would make it up to the rest of the street. They had no inkling that she’d done anything wrong, but she felt guilty for believing they’d all be so underhand, tricking Will with fake generosity. She had to make it up to them somehow, even if they never knew her motivation. She would do something that showed she was part of the community, that she could enter into the spirit as they had done, and that she appreciated the kindness they’d shown her when she returned to Campion Bay, even if Molly had had to remind her of it.

With a positive sequence of events lodged firmly in her head, and her palms only a little bit sweaty, Robin slipped on her ballet pumps and quietly left the house.

Chapter Two

The curtains of number four were drawn, but there was a slender line of golden light at one side of the window, where one had been pulled too far over. Robin took a deep breath, climbed the stairs and lifted the knocker, banging it down twice. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease her anxiety, wanting to appear calm in front of him.

After a few moments she heard footsteps approaching from inside. The latch clicked and the door swung inwards, Will’s tall frame appearing in shadow, silhouetted against the hall light. He immediately turned away from her and started to close the door.

‘Will, wait—’

‘I have nothing to say to you.’

‘Please.’ She took a step forward, placing her foot over the threshold.

She could just make out his glance towards her foot, his face creasing in irritation as he yanked the door back open.

‘Please, Will,’ Robin tried again. ‘Let me explain.’

‘Molly’s text did that perfectly well, thanks. I have to get on.’ He looked at her foot again, but Robin stood her ground. He took a step towards her, his sigh loud, his face suddenly bathed in the glow from the street light.

Robin stared at him. She couldn’t help it. Only the day before, he had seemed relaxed, happy, laughing with her as they ran back to the guesthouse, the press of his lips so tender as he’d kissed her.

Now, his hair was, again, damp, as if he’d not long emerged from the shower, but he hadn’t shaved, and the dark smudges under his eyes told of a sleepless night. His expression was dark, closed off, and his hands, which had so recently caressed her face, were bunched into fists.

Robin swallowed. ‘Molly’s text didn’t tell the truth,’ she said. ‘She’s my friend, we have jokes and we— It seemed awful, I know that. It seemed like there was this whole, organised plan—’

‘You admitted it.’ Will gave a sharp, humourless laugh. ‘You told me that’s what happened, that you’d all been in on it together, so that you could stop your boyfriend from buying my aunt’s house and messing up your seafront. Or don’t you remember confessing all that to me?’

Robin winced at the anger in his voice, unsure which thing to refute first. She wanted to move her foot, to get comfortable – her thigh was beginning to ache – but she didn’t want to give him the opportunity to close the door before she’d said all she needed to.

‘I was wrong about so many things,’ she said. ‘I’ve spoken to Molly and there was no campaign. I thought she’d organised one – I thought she’d asked Ashley and Stefano to make you feel welcome, but she didn’t. You were a new face on the road, Tabitha’s nephew, and they were just being neighbourly. They did those things of their own accord.’

A flicker of confusion passed across his features. He looked so weary, and Robin couldn’t imagine that, even if he hadn’t been cross with her, he would have had a comfortable night in Tabitha’s house. From what she could see of the hall it was still so disorganised, so full of dust.

‘So it turns out you were a one-woman publicity campaign? Doing it all by yourself, thinking you were part of something the whole street was involved in?’

‘No!’ she said. ‘That’s not it at all! I didn’t like Molly’s idea. I wouldn’t have been involved even if it had been real. I wanted to help you, to get to know you. What happened yesterday, I had wanted … that, I had wanted to spend time with you. I’ve loved your company, being with you, from the beginning. It wasn’t anything to do with Tim or the house.’

He shook his head quickly and ran a hand over his stubble. She heard the familiar sound of paws on floorboards and Darcy appeared, her head peering round Will’s legs. The Cavapoo yelped at Robin and bounded forward, her body vibrating with happiness. Robin stroked the dog, feeling instantly soothed by her unconditional affection. She wondered if Will would object, but he barely seemed to notice.

‘How am I meant to believe that, after what you told me yesterday?’ he asked.

‘I got it wrong, Will. I thought there was a campaign, I thought that was really happening, and I didn’t like it but I – I didn’t want to tell you; I didn’t want you to feel that you weren’t welcome, that the friendship offered to you was cynical, calculating.’

She glanced behind her as footsteps and voices echoed into the dusk, people passing on their way to the town centre. Will looked over her shoulder and Robin wondered for a second if he was going to invite her in, but he didn’t.

‘So,’ he said, his eyes creasing at the edges. ‘You thought there was a campaign, but there wasn’t? But you didn’t tell me what you thought was going on, or that your childhood sweetheart had designs on my aunt’s house, and had been sniffing around it even before I arrived? You knew all this, and you kept it from me while I confided in you about my dad, about Tabitha’s past. You reeled me in, making me trust you, while all the time you were hiding things from me, being loyal to your ex, who – let’s face it – doesn’t seem to be fully out of the picture. Is that about right?’

‘No, Will! Tim and I—’

‘Have you been playing us off against each other while you try to decide who you want next door?’

‘That couldn’t be further from the truth!’ She felt panic well up inside her, tried to remember Molly’s words, the ones she had used to explain the simple misunderstanding. ‘Nothing I’ve done has been false. I care about you. Tim and I – it’s over! It has been for well over a decade.’

He stared at her, his green eyes narrowed and, somehow, duller, while Darcy sat silently next to him. Robin was struck all over again by how much she cared about them both, despite their short acquaintance. She couldn’t lose them.

‘You lied to me, Robin,’ he said. His voice was quieter, defeated rather than angry. ‘You kept Tim’s plans from me, and you believed that your friends were tricking me into staying. It doesn’t matter that they weren’t – you didn’t tell me about it. You’ve been keeping me in the dark about everything, and I—’ His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. ‘I can’t trust you. Please.’ He gestured towards her foot, and Robin, her hope fading at his last words, stepped back. Her leg had gone dead, the pins and needles catching her off balance, and she put a hand on the wall to steady herself.

‘I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,’ she said, as he started to close the door. ‘At least come back to Starcross – you can’t be getting any sleep staying here. Will, I—’ But it was too late, and she found herself speaking to the black paint of Tabitha’s front door. She listened to the footsteps receding inside and then, with a stomach that felt like it was full of iced water, turned away from number four and went back to the guesthouse.

Molly appeared ten minutes after Robin had texted her, a bottle in her hand. Robin poured two glasses of wine and handed one to her friend. Eclipse bounded on to her lap with springlike dexterity and an adorable chirrup, and Robin buried her face in his fur, breathing in his clean, kittenish smell.

‘So what did he say?’ Molly asked, slipping off her pumps and tucking her feet beneath her.

Robin wrapped her hands round the bowl of her glass. ‘I tried to explain, to make it clear that it was a misunderstanding – just like you’d said. It sounded so innocuous the way you put it.’

‘And?’

‘He says he can’t trust me any more. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t trust me either.’

Molly leaned forward. ‘What exactly did he say? Tell me from the beginning.’

Robin recounted their conversation, the fact that Will hadn’t invited her inside, so it had played out on the doorstep, the way he had seemed at first angry and then defeated, and how even the admission that there had been no campaign, that the acts of kindness had been genuine, hadn’t lifted his spirits. When she’d finished, she looked up at Molly, waiting for the verdict. She hoped her friend could find some glimmer of hope, because Robin was struggling to.

Molly drummed her fingers against her lips. ‘Do you know what I think it is?’ she said. ‘I think it’s more that you didn’t tell him about Tim. You’d worked on Tabitha’s house with him, and hadn’t explained what Tim was up to, even after Tim had been round to see you both. It’s Will’s house now, and he felt that you should have been honest about what Campion Bay Property was planning – even if you didn’t know the details. Plus, it’s Tim, isn’t it?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Robin sipped her wine, but it tasted too acidic. She didn’t want alcohol: she wanted a mug of hot chocolate with squirty cream and some of her home-baked midnight cookies.

‘I don’t think it helps that Tim is your ex. Whatever Will’s feeling about what’s happened, it’s a lot more complicated because he cares about you, Robin. As I said before, he wouldn’t be so bothered if you were just another resident of Goldcrest Road. It’s only been a couple of weeks. He could wipe the slate clean. But he can’t do that with you, because so much has already happened.

‘He’s developed feelings, and then suddenly he finds out that you’ve been holding things back from him, the biggest of which is to do with your handsome, successful ex-boyfriend. I’m guessing,’ Molly said, leaning forward and rubbing Eclipse’s paws, ‘he’s a big bundle of confusion, hurt, attraction and jealousy, and he needs to wait for it all to settle so he can figure out which of those emotions rises to the top. I’m confident it will be attraction.’

Robin thought of the way Will had suggested Tim wasn’t fully out of the picture, the bitterness in his voice as he’d accused her of playing them off against each other. What Molly said made a lot of sense. ‘You think so?’

Molly nodded determinedly. ‘I do.’

Robin sat back on the sofa, her nerves settling slightly. ‘He looked so tired, Molly. It can’t be comfortable staying at Tabitha’s house with the dirt and the cobwebs. I don’t even know if there’s a bed in a good enough state for him to sleep in.’

‘He’s cut off his nose to spite his face, moving back next door,’ Molly agreed. ‘Even if he decides to chance it at the Seaview Hotel, he’s not exactly on to a winner, is he? I bet that’s adding to the disgruntlement. Chances are, he’ll realise how much he’s missing out on by being cross with you, and he’ll come back with his tail between his legs.’

Robin gave her a grateful smile. ‘Thanks, Molly. Thanks for talking it all through with me, for stopping me from going mad.’

‘Hey. It was my ridiculousness, my text, that created this situation in the first place. It’s my duty as your friend to help you clear it up. But for now, let out Starcross. Did you get his security number for the payment?’

Robin stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. ‘I didn’t get a chance. I’ll have to text him.’ The thought of asking him such a perfunctory question via text made her slightly nauseous, but she didn’t have a choice.

‘Try not to worry about it,’ Molly said. ‘He’s angry, but he’s a decent guy. He’ll pay up, and then you can get on with running the guesthouse while he cools off. At least he’s still in Campion Bay, and if the house is still a tip then I doubt he’s going anywhere any time soon.’

‘I’ve got time,’ Robin murmured. Molly’s words about Will cutting off his nose to spite his face had started her thinking. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to talk to her now, to accept her apology, but would he turn down a package from the guesthouse; a few creature comforts to make sleeping and eating at Tabitha’s house more bearable? Could she appeal to him in that way?

Molly nodded. ‘I’ll go round in the next couple of days, explain about the campaign misunderstanding, add my weight to your cause – if you think that would help? In the meantime, you’d best get on with things here and let it all play out in his head. He’ll soon realise that what you’ve done isn’t all that bad, and that you deserve his forgiveness.’

Robin looked down at her phone, thinking it would be better to text Will now and get it out of the way, and tried to imagine Starcross with a new guest staying in it. ‘Do you want a hot chocolate?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got marshmallows, and cookies.’

‘Why didn’t you say so earlier?’ Molly laughed. ‘Bring on the comfort food.’

The next day Robin took her friend’s advice and threw herself into running the guesthouse. The May day was blustery, but it wasn’t raining any more, and the damp pavements were drying, the sand at the top of the beach fading to pale, soft gold that Robin could imagine beneath her feet.

Katy and Dean were off on their wildlife boat tour, and over breakfast were making a list of all the things they were hoping to see.

‘I’d love to see puffins. Do you get them down here?’ Katy looked up expectantly.

Robin screwed her nose up. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe. If there’s one thing I’m not very good on, it’s the wildlife around here.’

‘I want to see an osprey,’ said Dean.

Katy rolled her eyes. ‘Trust you! And a shark, no doubt. How about a whale?’

Dean pursed his lips, considering this. ‘They must pass along this way sometimes, when they get lost.’

‘Oh my God. Talk about high expectations! When we see a couple of seagulls and a bit of driftwood, you’re going to want your money back.’

‘Trust me. This trip is going to be awesome.’ He gave his girlfriend such a confident look that Robin almost believed he would be able to conjure up giant sea creatures. She felt a stab of envy, longing for the wind in her hair and sea spray on her face.

‘You know,’ Paige said, as they tidied up the kitchen after breakfast, ‘I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never been on a boat trip around the coast.’

Robin stared at her. ‘Never? Not even when there was that dodgy little charter that moored up next to the crazy golf and puttered up to the cliffs and back?’

‘When was that?’ Paige frowned, pulling her ponytail tighter.

‘Ah. It was when I was a teenager. Sorry, I always forget that—’

‘That I’m sixteen?’ Paige asked. She smiled, shaking her head slowly. ‘Yeah, I wasn’t out of nappies when you went off to university. Maybe you’re starting to get me confused with Mum. Can you get dementia in your thirties?’

‘Haha.’ Robin threw a tea towel in Paige’s direction. She could see so much of Molly’s cheekiness in her daughter, and knew that she would be able to achieve whatever she wanted to. Luckily for Robin, at the moment that meant working for her at the guesthouse when she didn’t need to be in college.

‘Adam and his friends hired a boat to investigate the caves once,’ Paige said. ‘The ones you can’t get to from the beach even at low tide, a lot further round the cliffs. I didn’t fancy it. It sounded like a recipe for disaster.’

‘You’re wise beyond your years. I assume they all came back safely?’

‘They did, but I’m not sure how far they actually got. Adam says they saw loads, and that it was really interesting, but I reckon they chickened out pretty early. You’d have to be skilled to get boats inside some of those caves without smashing against the rock.’

‘Ugh!’ Robin shuddered, thinking of the wild beach and its dark, snug recesses in the cliffs. That inevitably reminded her that she’d taken Will there, only two days before, and that she’d started to open up to him. She wanted him to know that she’d already told him more than she’d told most people, and that of course he could trust her, but she’d got things spectacularly wrong.

‘I’m off now then,’ Paige said, waving her hand in Robin’s face.

Robin blinked her daydreams away. ‘Thanks so much, Paige. See you tomorrow.’

Once Paige had left and the guesthouse settled into quiet, Robin took a deep breath and climbed up to the third floor. It was time to get Starcross ready for new guests. She’d been putting it off, but she had to accept that Will was gone and right now it looked as though he wasn’t coming back.

The room was sparkling by the time she’d finished, the telescope gleaming, all signs that Will and Darcy had ever been there gone. Bundling the linen and towels into the washing machine, Robin turned to the small wicker hamper on the kitchen table.

It was empty at the moment, but she set about filling it with luxury teabags, a few packets of biscuits and a bag of chocolate coffee beans that she’d meant to put in Sea Shanty for the guests to help themselves to. She added mini bottles of the toiletries she put in every bathroom and then, smiling to herself, popped in a packet of the mature cheddar she loved so much, a small jar of Hellman’s mayonnaise and a fat, silky garlic bulb.

It was a slightly odd hamper, but she hoped Will would appreciate it, would understand what she was trying to do and at least be able to accept this small token of apology from her. Before she had time to think whether or not it was a sensible idea, Robin raced outside, put it on his front doorstep and ran back to the guesthouse, feeling like a schoolgirl who had almost been caught playing knock down ginger.

Throughout the week Robin made the guesthouse gleam, using all the energy that she had begun to spend on being with Will, helping Will, thinking about Will. Now, she treated the Campion Bay Guesthouse as her most prized possession, and gave it all her attention. She made more midnight cookies, perfected a Canadian stack recipe of thin crepes, streaky bacon, blueberries and maple syrup that she would serve as a special on Sundays, and burned a vanilla lime Yankee candle in Sea Shanty while she drew up plans for marketing campaigns and special offers.

The weather was getting warmer, and she started opening the windows, filling the guesthouse with the crisp, seaside air and the sound of the waves that she found so irresistible. She revisited Seagull Street Gallery and spent a full ten minutes standing in front of Arthur Durrant’s new nightscape, drinking in the textures, the sensation of night drawing in around her, the dots of white paint that so clearly became twinkling lights in the darkness. She left invigorated, and with five new miniature paintings in her jute bag, one for each of the bedrooms. They were all by the same artist, all striking designs in bright colours. There were cheerful beach hut paintings for Rockpool and Canvas, wildflower landscapes for Wilderness and Andalusia, and a sunset for Starcross, the sun a glowing orb hovering above the horizon, a few stars beginning to show in the blue of the gathering dusk.

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