A second chance by the sea?

When Kiki Jackson’s marriage falls to pieces, there’s only one place she knows she can escape to – her sister’s little guesthouse in Butterfly Cove.

But she’s worried that turning up on bride-to-be Mia’s doorstep, especially with her two adorable children in tow, will spoil her sister’s imminent wedding plans!

Luckily, handsome neighbour Aaron Spenser offers to share his new cottage with Kiki until she’s back on her feet. And as the wedding draws closer, Kiki realises that Butterfly Cove may be offering her little family more than just a new home…

Maybe this is where her new life begins…?

An uplifting and heartwarming read, perfect for fans of Trisha Ashley, Rachael Lucas and Hilary Boyd.

Praise for Sarah Bennett

‘There is a lovely warm and cosy feel to this book . . . I am already looking forward to my next trip to Butterfly Cove in the summer.’

– Rachel’s Random Reads (Top 500 Amazon Reviewer)

‘If novels written from the heart, drenched with love and warmth, are your ‘thing’, then Sunrise at Butterfly Cove by Sarah Bennett will be right up your street.’

– Hummingbird Reviews

‘Butterfly Cove has pretty much everything covered from friendship, new beginnings, loss, love and family. Full of charm, engaging and heartwarming, what more could you want!’

– Rae Reads

‘A real feel good book. I can’t wait for the next book to be released!’

– Miss S A Coles (Top 1000 Amazon Reviewer)

‘I have already pre-ordered the next two books; what does that tell you! I thoroughly enjoyed this story right from the first page and didn’t want it to end.’

– Janice Anderson (Amazon Reviewer)

‘What a brilliant read, thoroughly enjoyed every page! Found it very hard to put down, very much looking forward to the next book.’

– Jackie Goodship (Amazon Reviewer)

Wedding Bells at Butterfly Cove

Sarah Bennett

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Praise

Book List

Title Page

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Excerpt

Endpages

Copyright

Other Novels from Sarah Bennett

Sunrise at Butterfly Cove

SARAH BENNETT

has been reading for as long as she can remember. Raised in a family of bookworms, her love affair with books of all genres has culminated in the ultimate Happy Ever After – getting to write her own stories to share with others. Born and raised in a military family, she is happily married to her own Officer (who is sometimes even A Gentleman). Home is wherever he lays his hat, and life has taught them both that the best family is the one you create from friends as well as relatives.

When not reading or writing, Sarah is a devotee of afternoon naps and sailing the high seas, but only on vessels large enough to accommodate a casino and a choice of restaurants. Wedding Bells at Butterfly Cove is Sarah’s second novel for HQ Digital UK. The adventures of Kiki and her sisters began in Sunrise at Butterfly Cove, which is available now, and will conclude in Christmas at Butterfly Cove.

You can connect with her via twitter: @Sarahlou_writes or on Facebook: www.facebook.com/SarahBennettAuthor.

Well, here we are again! This book is for everyone who read Sunrise at Butterfly Cove and told me how much they wanted Kiki to get her own story. I hope I’ve done her (and Aaron) justice.

As ever, I couldn’t do this without the support of my husband. Thanks, bun x

My love and gratitude go to my mum, for everything x

To Charlotte and Rayha, who love Butterfly Cove as much as I do and really help make the stories shine – it’s a pleasure to work with you both.

To the other HQ Digital authors, thank you for your support. The laughter, the commiserations, and your unflagging support for each and every member of our literary family is amazing. Writing is a lonely business, but I’m never alone with you guys ready to lift me up.

And finally, my thanks to you, the reader. It’s such a pleasure to welcome you back to Butterfly Cove. I hope you’ll join me again soon when the sound of wedding bells will be replaced by jingle bells as we celebrate Christmas at Butterfly Cove.

For M. My very own happy ending.

Chapter One

May 2016

‘Mummy.’ The whispered voice next to her ear woke Kiki. She swam up through the layers of drowsiness, noting the darkness in the room, and wondered what time it was. ‘Mummy.’ A little shake of her shoulder added this time.

‘Matty? Is everything all right, darling?’ She matched his whisper, but it wasn’t enough to avoid disturbing Neil.

He rolled over with a grumble. ‘Whatever it is, take it somewhere else. I’ve got to be up in a couple of hours.’

Kiki slipped from beneath the quilt and used her toes to locate her slippers. After tucking her feet in the thin mules, she ushered her son towards the sliver of light shining from the landing. She pulled the bedroom door closed behind her, then crouched down to look at her beloved boy. Sweaty strands of dark-brown hair clung to his forehead and his cheeks shone with a feverish glow. He nibbled his bottom lip. ‘I didn’t mean to wake Daddy.’

The gleam of worry in his eyes stabbed her in the heart. Neil was perfectly capable of making everyone’s life a misery at the slightest provocation. She forced a smile as she smoothed the damp hair from his brow. ‘Don’t worry about that, he’ll be fast asleep again by now. Did you have a bad dream?’

Matty shook his head. ‘I don’t feel very—’ He cut himself off with a hand over his mouth and his whole body convulsed in a shuddering heave, sending a stream of vomit through his splayed fingers and down the front of them both. Tears of shock and upset glinted in his eyes and she scooped him up in her arms, swallowing down the echoing hitch in her own stomach.

She carried him quickly into the bathroom and just managed to settle him on his knees in front of the toilet before another gush of bitter-smelling liquid spewed forth. ‘Poor poppet. Poor darling,’ she murmured, rubbing circles on his back as he shivered and shook. The front of her nightdress clung damply to her body, but she pushed the unpleasant sensation to the back of her mind to focus on Matty. He gasped like a little fish out of water, swallowing and panting. She knew the pattern well. This was just a brief respite in the process.

‘Uh-oh,’ he muttered and lurched forward again. This would be the last of it now. Kiki stroked his hair until he subsided into breathy sobs, sinking down until his head rested on the cold rim of the toilet.

‘Better out than in, that’s what they say.’ She rose from her cramped position by his side to rinse her hands under the tap. Grabbing a dark-green flannel from the edge of the sink, she soaked it in cold water then bent down to turn Matty towards her. ‘Look up, darling.’

He lifted his pale little face and she held his chin in a light grip as she wiped the tears, sweat and other less pleasant things from his skin. A quick rinse of the cloth and she folded it into a square. ‘Hold this against your head a minute, can you?’ He nodded weakly and clutched the flannel with a shaky hand.

Confident he would be okay for a couple of minutes, she left him to go and check his bedroom and fetch some clean pyjamas. His bedding and carpet were mercifully clean and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that at least she wasn’t faced with changing the sheets at… she glanced at the LEGO Batman clock on the dressing table and winced… three a.m. Pausing at the airing cupboard on the landing, she dug out a T-shirt and a pair of leggings for herself and returned to the bathroom. A quick change and a teeth-clean and they were both soon tucked into Matty’s single bed.

‘How’s your tummy now, still sore?’ She feathered her fingers through his silky-soft hair. The deep-brown strands matched her own, but his soulful blue eyes were all his father’s. She’d fallen for a bigger version of those baby-blues before she’d known the truth—a twinkling look and a sweet smile could mask a monster. Neil had smiled, flirted and flattered his way into her life and she had lapped up the attention like a parched flower, blooming into a blushing, eighteen-year-old bride.

His earnest focus on her, his need to know her every movement, had seemed exciting. He needed her with him, couldn’t stop thinking about her, worried someone else might snatch the prize of her from under his nose. Oh, the lies he’d told her had been music to her innocent ears. Like Helen of Troy and Paris, theirs was a love that would burn through space and time. Like Heathcliff and Cathy, like Jane and Rochester, nothing could keep them apart. Only she’d glossed over the ugly, hard truths of those childhood love stories in her burning need to feel special to someone.

And how exciting for a naïve girl to capture the heart of an older, wiser man. Neil had been in his first year as a postgraduate student when they met, and at twenty-two he’d seemed a fount of knowledge and experience from the moment they bumped into each other in the Ancient Greece section of the university library. Taking a classical studies course had been Kiki’s transparent attempt to please her father, and when Neil found out she was the daughter of one of his intellectual heroes, he’d been hooked. He painted a fascinating picture of a man nothing like the withdrawn, preoccupied one who ruled her home with more neglect than care.

A soft snore drew her attention and she eased her arm out from under Matty’s head to settle him more comfortably on his pillow. Content he was asleep, she slipped out of his bed to clean up the mess left behind on the landing carpet. Once that was done, she might as well tackle the ironing pile. She cast a quick glance at her closed bedroom door as she passed it. There was no way she wanted to risk waking Neil again, and she could always have a catch-up nap once the kids were sorted in the morning.

‘Mummy?’ Déjà vu. Only this time the voice was Charlie’s sweet, piping tone, still carrying a babyish lisp. And the hard, wooden table beneath her cheek was no substitute for her pillow.

Forcing open her grit-filled eyes, Kiki tried to ignore the sick, groggy pain in her head and sat up. ‘What’s the time, darling?’ A rhetorical question to a three-year-old, but her brain was still too full of cotton wool to think straight.

‘It’s gone eight o’clock and I’m going to be late, thanks to you,’ Neil snapped as he stormed into the room.

She blinked, noting his suit and tie, rather than the casual-jacket-and-jeans look he favoured when lecturing. ‘Oh, your meeting. I’m sorry, I must have dozed off.’ Jumping up, she hurried over to switch the kettle on and stuff a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. ‘Give me a minute, just one minute, and I’ll bring your breakfast to your study.’

Neil glared at her, not an ounce of warmth in his blue eyes. ‘I already told you, I don’t have time. Which part of late don’t you understand?’ He dodged back to avoid their daughter’s attempts to clutch his legs for a hug. ‘No, Charlotte! You’ll crease Daddy’s suit.’ He left the kitchen, muttering to himself.

Kiki leaned back against the board, wondering how she’d managed to screw up the day before it had even started. Charlie, lower lip quivering, her dark hair sleep-tangled and knotted, painted a picture of abject heartbreak. Kiki swooped on her, gathering her little girl into her arms for a tight hug. ‘Daddy doesn’t mean to be cross, Charlie. He’s just got a busy day and Mummy didn’t help by falling asleep.’ Even as the words left her mouth, she wondered why she was making excuses for him. Neil was an adult and perfectly capable of getting himself up and ready for work on time, but the default blame in the Jackson household for any problem fell squarely on her shoulders.

She could just imagine what her big sister would have to say if she could hear her. Mia had never warmed to Neil. Kiki suppressed a bitter laugh. There she went again, painting the situation in a rosier light than it deserved. Mia couldn’t stand him. Had even tried to persuade Kiki to leave and bring the children with her to Mia’s new home in Butterfly Cove. As if she could just pack up and start again! She hefted Charlie onto her other hip, ‘Come on, poppet, let’s go and see how your brother is feeling this morning.’

Matty appeared untroubled by his early morning misadventures, so she dropped him off at school, then a bubbly Charlie at crèche for her morning session. Strictly speaking, the rules required her to keep him off for forty-eight hours, but he usually bounced back after an episode and Kiki preferred not to make a fuss about it. His bouts of sickness had started a few months previously, frequent enough for her to have taken her son to the doctor. After a range of tests, they’d not been able to find anything wrong with him, and Kiki was keeping a food diary to see if there might be an allergic connection. She hadn’t found an organic link to his problem, and she was beginning to suspect the doctor’s other suggestion—stress—might be the real cause.

The resilience the children showed filled her with pride, and not a little guilt. They shouldn’t have to tiptoe around their father the way they had been recently. She would have to try and talk to him, ask him to be a little more patient around them. Her stomach churned at the thought, but if she broached the subject when he was in a good mood, maybe she’d get through the conversation without it turning into a shouting match. Not that she did any shouting of her own. Perhaps if she made his favourite meal for dinner… she turned left at the next set of lights towards the supermarket.

Brushing the flour off her hands onto her apron, Kiki ran to the hall to fish her mobile out of her bag where it hung over the end of the bannister. The damn thing had found its way to the very depths and she almost dropped it in her hurry to answer before the caller rang off. ‘Hello?’

‘Jesus, Kiki. Can’t you even answer your phone without a drama?’

‘Sorry, darling. I was in the kitchen and I’d left my bag in the hall…’

Neil sighed. ‘I don’t need to hear your latest line in stupid excuses. Just go into my study, will you? There’s the name of a hotel and a phone number on my jotter and I need it.’

‘Hotel?’ She crossed the hall and pushed open the study door. The room reminded her so much of her dad’s, and it, too, was off limits unless she was cleaning. The high-backed leather chair behind the desk had cost a fortune, but Neil needed to be comfortable when he was working in the evenings. She nudged the chair to one side and scanned the familiar scribble on the cream-coloured jotter. ‘What’s it called?’

‘If. I. Knew. What. It. Was. Called. I. Wouldn’t. Be. Wasting. My. Time. Talking. To. You.’ She winced at the deliberate pause he put between each word. ‘It’s on the left-hand side somewhere.’

Using her finger, she traced the scribbled notes. ‘Oh, here. Lilly’s Island Hotel? Number starts with a plus-thirty?’

‘That’s the one. Hurry up, I need to get back to the meeting.’

She reeled off the number, then paused. ‘Antiparos? Isn’t that near Despotiko?’ The island was one of the most famous archaeological treasures outside of Delos. Neil’s research focused on the cult of Apollo and he had been trying to get on a dig at the sanctuary for the past few years. ‘Did you get your approval?’

‘I won’t get anything if you don’t stop chattering, but yes, looks like I’ll be there for the summer.’ He hung up without saying another word.

Kiki sank into the deep leather chair. How many times had they talked about a summer trip to the islands when they’d first got married? Curled up in Neil’s bed in his tiny flat, they’d spun dreams of days spent uncovering hidden treasures buried deep in the rocks and nights sipping ouzo and eating local delicacies. Then she’d fallen pregnant with Matty and those dreams were put on hold while they struggled to make ends meet. She’d dropped out, knowing there was no way she could finish her degree with a new baby and Neil needing all the help he could get with his research.

Life had got in the way, as it so often did, but maybe this would be a chance for them to spend some quality time together. A tiny bubble of hope stirred in her heart. Away from the stresses and strains, perhaps they could find a way to make things right between them. The kids could run and play in the sunshine, and she could help Neil catalogue his findings. She bit her lip, unable to stop a smile. If they could just get back to the way things used to be…

She reached for the wireless mouse on Neil’s desk and shook it gently to wake up his computer. A word document filled the screen, so she scanned the lower toolbar looking for the browser icon, but accidentally clicked on the email one. The screen changed, displaying an open message and she gave it half a glance, before looking back at the bottom bar.

Darling…

Her finger froze on the mouse as the word registered. Who would be calling Neil darling? Ignoring the little voice in her head that warned he would be furious at her for snooping, Kiki rolled the mouse to the top of the message and began to read. Incredulity became denial, became horror, as she followed the email exchange back over several weeks. She wanted to shut her eyes, refuse to see the truth laid out in black and white, but her finger kept clicking on the previous arrow. Every click was punctuated by the same word, the admonishment Neil threw in her face on a regular basis—stupid, click, stupid, click, stupid.

He was right.

Chapter Two

The problem with his best friend finding a wonderful girlfriend, Aaron Spenser mused to himself, was the way it emphasised the complete failure of his own love life. Ensconced in his very favourite place in the world—the cosy kitchen at Butterfly Cove—he watched the banter between Daniel and Mia and rubbed the phantom pain in his chest.

‘Everything all right?’ Mia cast him a little frown.

He stopped his hand, embarrassed at being caught mooning over his poor, lonely heart. ‘Fine, thanks. Touch of heartburn, that’s all.’ He paused to give her a sly grin. ‘I blame the chef.’

‘Cheeky sod!’ The balled-up tea towel caught him on the side of the head when he ducked too slowly.

Rising from his assigned seat around the wooden table, he stretched his arms above his head to loosen the last bit of stiffness from the exertions of the previous day. Mia’s project to renovate the rundown old house perched beside a beautiful sandy beach in the picturesque village of Orcombe Sands was going full steam. Three of the five guest bedrooms were complete, and the final two were a few days from being finished. Aaron had spent every spare weekend since Daniel’s surprise exhibition in March travelling backwards and forwards from London to Orcombe to lend a hand.

Life in the celebrity hurricane could destroy even the hardiest of souls, a lesson Daniel had learned the hard way. Exhausted, hungover and burnt-out, he’d hit rock bottom. Fate, the West Coast mainline and a well-meaning neighbour had delivered Daniel to Mia’s doorstep, and into the lonely young widow’s life.

His friend’s abrupt career change, from successful art photographer to creating a new artistic retreat on the south coast, had set tongues wagging in the gossip-fuelled celebrity circles he’d escaped from one cold, miserable February morning. There was already a huge level of interest and Aaron had helped them set up a mailing list and blog to maintain the buzz.

Every stage of the renovation works on the guest house, as well as the adjoining barns, which would house Daniel’s haven for artists needing to take a break, was carefully documented and posted on the blog. They’d gained followers from all over the country and enough booking enquiries to fill the house for the entire summer season. The race was on to get everything ready in time for their grand opening next weekend.

Aaron picked at the remnants of red paint stuck under his nails, before abandoning it as a hopeless task. He still had the doorframe and windowsill to gloss in the country-garden-themed bedroom, so he’d no doubt end up with more on his hands. Saturday had been a washout; a huge squall had blown in off the sea, forcing them to keep the windows closed and dropping the late May bank holiday temperatures by several degrees.

The grey army—Mia’s late-husband’s in-laws and her neighbours Madeline and Richard—had battled valiantly in the driving rain to stake the most vulnerable flowers and shrubs in the sprawling garden at Butterfly Cove. The two older couples had become firm friends when everyone rode to Daniel’s rescue after his ex-agent stole his work and attempted to put on an exhibition without his knowledge.

Pat and Bill had accepted Daniel into their life with a grace which left Aaron breathless with admiration, and not a little jealous over how well the new family structure was blending together. It had been a quarter of a century and his stepmother still hadn’t forgiven Aaron for being a living, breathing reminder of his mum. As though thoughts of Cathy had summoned him, Aaron’s younger brother, Luke, wandered into the kitchen, mouth stretched wide in a yawn.

‘Morning.’ Luke scrubbed his hand through his hair, sending the wayward curls tumbling in an artless display. Women loved those blond curls, not to mention the soulful brown eyes he could widen into a look both innocent and suggestive. Aaron shook his head. The ladies of London Town would be mourning his absence given he was also spending all his free time in Orcombe.

Daniel grinned at him. ‘About time you showed up. Get your breakfast down you. Jordy will be here soon and I want to run over the plans for the mezzanine one last time before the builders arrive on Tuesday.’ Daniel had hired the local carpenter to project manage the conversion and he was proving a sound choice. With local connections, he’d brought on reliable labour and got some decent discounts on raw materials.

The plan was to install a first floor in the main barn to house five self-contained apartments which could be rented by visiting artists. Each apartment would come with a purpose-built studio on the ground floor to cater for different mediums—pottery, painting, photography, sculpture and the like. A smaller outbuilding would then be converted into a multipurpose support space, housing a kiln, a small forge for iron-working, and even a darkroom for those traditionalists who preferred film to digital. The scope of the facility Daniel and Luke were creating took Aaron’s breath away.

In addition to drawing up the design for the barn refurbishment, Luke had jumped in with both feet when Mia asked him to work up a harem theme for a pair of rooms in the main house. Free of the shackles of his junior role at a prestigious firm of architects, Luke had seized on the projects at Butterfly Cove like a starving man. He was happier than Aaron had seen him in a long time. Something had happened to Luke about a year previously, stealing the easy laughter from his eyes, but he’d been tight-lipped about it, claiming it was a work problem and nothing he needed his big brother to sort out.

Being a tiny cog in a big wheel didn’t suit his little brother, any more than it suited him if Aaron was honest with himself. Getting a good degree and a placement with one of the big five accounting firms had always been top of his career wish list. But wishes and reality rarely gelled, and without the side work he took on, including looking after Daniel’s financial affairs, Aaron would be digging an escape tunnel.

Where had that thought come from? He had a good job, was one of the youngest team leaders in the company. A smart flat in an up-and-coming part of the city, a good pension pot and the beginnings of a decent investment portfolio. His dad had drummed it into him from an early age: work hard, save well, live the best life you can within your means. So why so restless? Another side effect of all the change in Daniel’s life. Perhaps thirty was the new threshold for a midlife crisis.

Feeling an uncomfortable itch between his shoulder blades, he turned to find Mia watching him with those big brown eyes of hers. She always saw too much. He flashed her a smile and tried to shake off the restless feelings stirring in his gut. Settled, steady, that was the life he had, and the life he wanted, too. No drama, no mad emotional roller-coaster. Boring. He frowned. Introspection was for moody, artistic types. He preferred action.

Luke opened the back door, letting the tangy scents of the ocean fill the kitchen. Aaron breathed deeply. He could almost taste the freshness of the post-storm air on the back of his tongue. The faint sound of birdsong drifted from the garden, making up his mind. It was too nice a day to be stuck in the house. He turned to Mia. ‘Leave the garden room, and I’ll finish the last bits later.’ Apart from glossing the doorframe, everything else was dressing.

She tilted her head, a quizzical look in her eyes. ‘If you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. Don’t let me catch you up a ladder trying to hang those bloody curtains either.’ The creamy material, covered in huge cabbage roses, had been edged with a red-checked pattern. Not something he’d ever have put together, but Mia had an eye for design he couldn’t fault. Huge stacks of matching bedding, cushion covers and throws sat in neat piles on the dining-room table. He’d learnt more about pelmets, valances and padded headboards than he’d thought possible. And it would have taken a braver man than he to point out a fitted sheet, a couple of pillowcases and a duvet cover were all that was required to make a bed.

She gave him a look, like butter wouldn’t melt, and he knew she’d be rappelling from the upstairs bannisters if it took her fancy. ‘Will you be back for lunch?’

That was something else he liked about her. Even though they were rushing to get everything finished, it never escaped her that everyone was giving up their free time to see her dream achieved. She never demanded, never expected, just gratefully accepted whatever efforts people could put in. ‘I won’t be long, just fancied a bit of fresh air.’

‘Of course. Why don’t you take Jamie’s bike?’

Daniel glanced up from the drawings spread across the table. ‘It’s in the garage – help yourself.’ The way the two of them had come to terms with the subject of her late husband stunned him anew. He might never have lived in the sprawling house at Butterfly Cove, but Jamie’s memory lingered there in everyday objects. Jamie would always be a part of Mia’s life and Daniel accepted it without a fuss.

‘I’ll be back before lunch.’ He nudged his brother aside to get out of the back door and Luke’s hand fell companionably upon his shoulder. They walked in silence towards the garage where Luke gave him a hand to swing open the rusty up-and-over door and then to lift the silver mountain bike from the hooks on the wall.

‘Everything okay?’ The edges of Luke’s eyes crinkled in concern.

Aaron nodded. ‘Yes, Spud. Just need a bit of air, that’s all.’ He glanced over his shoulder towards the kitchen door. ‘Those two…’

Luke squeezed his shoulder. ‘Happy as pigs in shit. Nothing like true love to make a man feel hopelessly inadequate.’

Aaron tossed his brother a wry grin. ‘You, too?’

A cloud of sadness wiped the sunny smile from Luke’s face. ‘You have no idea, mate.’ He shook himself like a dog after a dip in a stream. ‘Don’t mind me. Enjoy your ride.’ Tucking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, Luke strolled away. The casual pose might have worked better had his shoulders not been stiff with tension. Aaron frowned. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets. Pondering not only what Luke was hiding from him, but the best way to get him talking, Aaron peddled down the twisting driveway.

Blooms of white cow parsley and shiny yellow buttercups decorated the long grass verges on either side of the country lane, and the fields behind were a sea of pale-green wheat stalks. Reaching the crossroads to the main road, he paused to consider his options. Left would take him along the familiar route towards the main village of Orcombe Sands and the train station. Madeline and Richard lived somewhere towards the right. They’d likely be piling into Richard’s sleek Mercedes with Bill and Pat, ready for another day of toil in Mia’s garden. Not wanting to get caught skiving, he checked both ways then crossed the road to follow the lane into unexplored territory.

Muscles suitably warm, Aaron flicked the gears a couple of notches higher and increased his effort. A welcome burn began in his thigh muscles. He drew in a deep breath, letting it out on a happy laugh. Who would ever choose the gym if they had this on their doorstep? Cycling in London took a level of bravado he didn’t possess, and the car-choked streets around his flat would have filled his lungs with dirty fumes, not fresh air.

Fields gave way to trees, dappling the road with leafy shadows. Weeks away from their full thickness, the boughs offered glimpses of houses tucked a few feet away from the road. Old-fashioned wooden gates bearing carved nameplates told their stories: Willow Rest, Journey’s End, Honeysuckle Cottage. He squeezed the brakes and pulled over in the entrance of the last property. A sweet perfume floated on the air, proving the name to be more than a flight of fancy. The corner of a thatched roof was visible, crouching low over whitewashed walls and dark-framed square windows. Trellis covered part of the lower walls, thick with greenery and white-pink flowers. A proper chocolate-box cottage.

A loud thud and a sharp curse shattered the idyllic illusion. ‘Bloody hell, Karen. Be careful!’ Not a local accent, more the drawn-out vowels of the Midlands.

‘I told you it was too heavy for me. We should have got a proper firm in, instead of trying to do it ourselves.’ The woman’s protest carried a similar twang.

Curious, Aaron rested the bike against the open gate and hooked his helmet over the handlebars. A few strides down the drive brought him face to face with a sweating, frowning man about the same age as him, struggling to hold one end of a heavy-looking chest of drawers. The other end rested on the ground in front of an exasperated blonde. A white box van stood behind them, the tailgate down. He gave the couple a grin and a friendly wave. ‘Hey. Sorry to intrude. I was cycling by just now and it sounded like you might need a hand.’

The blonde cast him a tired smile. ‘Thank you. We’ve bitten off a bit more than we can chew here.’ She held out her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Karen. D’you live around here?’

Aaron stepped forward, shook her hand, then offered his own to the man, who’d placed his end of the dresser down. ‘Aaron. My friends live a couple of miles down the road, at Butterfly Cove.’

‘Dave.’ They shook hands. ‘Never heard of it. We’re down here trying to sort out Karen’s great aunt’s place.’ He gestured with his head towards the cottage. ‘She passed a couple of months ago, left her the cottage and all its contents in her will.’

Karen folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her biceps in a self-soothing gesture. A frown creased between her brows. ‘I didn’t really know her. She was my nan’s sister and I hadn’t seen her since I was a kid. She never married, some sad story about a lost love in the war, I remember nan telling me once. Turns out I’m her only living relative so it all came to me. Not that we can do anything with the place. There’s a few things we want to take, but we don’t have room for it and we can’t keep two houses running.’ Colour lit her cheeks and she gave an embarrassed little laugh. ‘Not that you want to hear our life story.’

Aaron stared at the cottage. Weeds had claimed the flowerbeds beneath the windows, and the paint was peeling a bit in places, but it looked sound enough. His mind started whirring. Luke would need to take a look, of course, and a proper surveyor. He could ask Richard for details of a local solicitor; Dave and Karen could use the one who’d handled her great aunt’s will. The flat in town had a two-month clause on the lease, but he was pretty sure he could find someone to take it off his hands quicker than that. Interest rates on his cash ISA were in the toilet, so it wasn’t like he’d be losing any interest if he withdrew it for a deposit…

A rushing sound filled his ears and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He didn’t do impulsive. Steady, solid, the man with the plan. A house martin swooped past and disappeared into the eaves. Feeling light-headed, light-hearted and thoroughly unlike himself, he turned to the couple. ‘So, you’re looking to sell the place then?’

Chapter Three

Tap, tap, tap. ‘Hellooo? Mizz Sutherland, are you there?’ Mia closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer for patience. They’d been open for guests for two weeks now and their grand-opening weekend had been such a success, it had spoiled her into believing running Butterfly House would be a doddle. Then the Chivers had arrived on Thursday for a five-night stay. Ten minutes of Mrs Chivers’ pointed disappointment in, well, everything had poured cold water on Mia’s cocky confidence. From the supposed inferior quality of the sheets on their bed in the beach room… ‘One expects at least five-hundred thread count from a quality establishment’… to the disdainful sniff given to the homemade chicken pie Mia had served for the previous evening’s supper… ‘It’s so hard to get an even, thin crust, isn’t it, dear?’… Mrs Chivers had picked and poked until Mia was ready to offer a full refund if she would just leave.

‘Bugger that,’ had been Daniel’s response to her suggestion. ‘Make the miserable old bat pay.’ She would have laughed if he hadn’t said it almost loud enough for her awkward guest to hear it. By contrast, Mr Chivers couldn’t have been kinder, and Mia wondered if he spent so many hours exploring the little beach behind the house as an excuse for a bit of peace and quiet.

Fixing a smile on her lips, Mia tugged off her washing-up gloves and turned towards the closed kitchen door. ‘It’s not locked, Mrs Chivers, please come in.’

Looking immaculate in a camel-coloured blouse and matching cords tucked into a pair of spotless walking boots, she looked as fresh as when she’d come down to breakfast that morning. Her highlighted hair, just a shade too perfect to be natural, swung around her face in a millimetre-perfect bob. ‘It’s such a pleasant afternoon, we thought we’d take tea on the patio.’

‘Of course. The scones are just warming in the oven. Why don’t you make yourselves comfortable and I’ll bring everything out to you shortly?’

‘That would be lovely, dear. I don’t suppose you have different preserves? Homemade has its place, but when one is used to Fortnum’s…’ Mrs Chivers heaved a martyred sigh so exaggerated that Mia had to bite her lip not to laugh.

‘Lady Begley will be sorry to hear her bramble jelly doesn’t meet your expectations.’ Mia busied herself removing the scones from the Aga, counting slowly to ten in her head. One, two, three…

‘Lady Begley?’ Was that a slight sputter? God, Mia hoped so.

Schooling her features, she began to lay the scones on the waiting cooling rack. ‘Yes, from the Hall. Didn’t you and Mr Chivers visit the gardens yesterday? Lady Begley is passionate about traditional homecrafts and most of the pickles and preserves they sell in their farm shop are made by her. I thought it would be a nice touch to cross-promote a local business.’

Mrs Chivers smoothed a nervous hand over her sleek hair. ‘Yes, well, perhaps our palettes have been slightly spoiled by mass-market products.’

Mia schooled her features into a bland smile. ‘I’m sure that’s it.’

The faint whirr of a drill sounded from outside. Although they’d made it clear at time of booking that conversion works were taking place in the barns, Daniel worked hard to schedule the noisy stuff for when their guests were out for the day. When they’d spoken at breakfast, the couple had planned to spend the day walking on Dartmoor and Mia hadn’t expected to see them much before supper. Afternoon tea had been hastily put together, but her fridge and pantry were well stocked enough to cover it without any trouble.

Mrs Chivers frowned and Mia cut her off before another complaint could be raised. ‘Why don’t you go and join your husband on the patio, and I’ll run out and tell Daniel to pack up for the day? I’ll bring your tray straight afterwards.’ Mrs Chivers pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything else.

‘Daniel?’ Mia peered around the door of the barn, but didn’t venture inside. He stood with his back to her, arms raised a bit above shoulder height as he drilled another hole in the wooden partition. The pose tightened his dusty T-shirt and she took a moment to admire the view. There was just something about a man working with his hands that made her shivery in all the right places. Not any man, though. Him. Daniel had a single-minded intensity he applied to every task, whether working or playing. But she had her guests to think of. Maybe later, when they were alone in their room on the third floor, she could find him some manual labour… She raised her voice over the drilling and called his name again.

The noise cut out, and he turned, tugging down his face mask to reveal his bright smile through the dark hair of his beard. ‘Hello, love, everything all right?’

‘Oh yes, just admiring your handiwork.’ She cast him a fake-innocent look from under her lashes. ‘I think the bulb in the bedroom overhead light needs changing.’

His rich, deep laugh curled around her like a caress. ‘Behave yourself, woman. Did you come out here to admire the view?’ He lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe his brow, giving her a flash of tanned skin in the process.

‘Ha! Now it’s your turn to behave.’ They shared a smile and the simple joy of the moment swelled in her heart. The art of flirting was yet another thing she’d assumed lost to her for ever when Jamie died. Such a little thing in the grand scheme, but each time they bantered like this, the bond between her and Daniel solidified a bit more. Learning what pleased the other, sharing a secret smile, using a codeword which meant nothing to anyone listening, but everything to them.

Covered in grime, damp hair clinging to his neck, clad in scruffy clothes and with his beard a few days past needing a trim, he looked a far cry from the pale, broken figure who’d landed on her doorstep five months previously. He looked fit and happy, with no trace of the shadows haunting his eyes, and if she could spend the rest of her days watching him grow and change, life would be good. Her stomach fluttered. Soon. She’d ask him soon. That was the deal between them.

Why not now?

She opened her mouth, but the question died on her tongue. Her guests were waiting, she had responsibilities and it seemed ridiculous to propose and run. Something as important as that should be done in a proper romantic setting, not a dusty barn. Calling herself ten types of coward, she rolled her eyes and imitated Mrs Chivers’ best put-upon sigh. ‘One simply can’t enjoy afternoon tea on the patio with this racket going on.’

Daniel frowned. ‘They’re back early then?’ She nodded and he shrugged. ‘We knew it would be a balancing act. I’ll finish up, then come and give you a hand with preparing dinner.’

Mia blew him a quick kiss. ‘I’ve saved you a scone.’

His eyes lit up. ‘And that’s why I love you.’

Her tummy fluttered and danced. It was still new, hearing those words from his lips, knowing them to be an echo of her feelings for him. After Jamie, she hadn’t expected, hadn’t wanted, this again. Loving someone, needing them, meant risking losing them, and she couldn’t go through that again. But Daniel had given her no choice. He’d stumbled into her life and into her heart when neither of them had their guard up. A pulse of blind fear struck. He’d been out here on his own, anything could have happened to him and it hadn’t occurred to her to check. Accidents happened. That’s what they said, and she damn well knew the aching, ugly truth of it.

Needing to break the spiral of her thoughts, she forced a wonky smile. ‘It’s my cooking you love.’

He closed the distance between them, no answering smile upon his face. ‘Don’t do that, don’t deflect.’ She tried to turn her head, but he caught her chin in a firm but gentle grip. ‘What is it, what’s put that look in your eyes?’

His features wavered through her suddenly watery gaze and she choked on the words. ‘Nothing. I’m being silly.’

He pulled her into his arms and she snuggled into his chest, not caring about the dirt and dust covering his T-shirt. ‘Talk to me,’ he murmured against her temple.

The words came easier when she didn’t have to see his face. ‘I got scared. What if you fell off a ladder or cut through a cable or something? I didn’t think to check and I should have, what if—’

‘Breathe, Mia. Take a breath, love, before you work yourself up over nothing.’ He stroked her back, rocking them both on the spot. ‘I never climb when I’m on my own in here, I promise, and all the power tools are battery-operated. Jordy would throw me out on my ear if he thought I was doing stuff like that.’

She nodded into his shoulder, knowing he was right. Jordy had given them all a serious talking to about what he would and wouldn’t accept if they took him on to run the project. ‘I’m sorry, I’m being silly.’ She sniffled, then laughed at the unattractive, wet sound. ‘I think I made a mess on your shirt.’

‘It’s destined for the wash, anyway. Look at me.’ He swiped his thumbs gently under her eyes to catch the tears shimmering there. ‘I’m not invincible, love, but I promise to do everything I can to be careful. Being with you is a gift I’m not going to squander if I can help it.’ He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, tickling her skin with his beard. ‘So, you’re stuck with me.’

Stretching on tiptoes she caught his lips with hers, for a brief, hot moment. ‘I like being stuck with you.’

Keeping an arm around her shoulder, Daniel walked with her back across the yard. He left her with a quick kiss to take his shower, and she gave her hands and face a rinse at the sink. Setting out the tray, she hurried through the dining room and out through the patio doors. Her guests bracketed one of the wrought-iron tables she’d picked up at a local DIY centre. Daniel had glossed them brilliant white and the matching chairs were covered in thick, bright-red cushions, made by Madeline as a surprise gift. Her friend was an absolute marvel when it came to sewing and embroidery. Mia was learning, slowly, but she’d get there. One of the best things about refurbishing Butterfly House had been the chance to learn new skills, to challenge herself in a creative way. Her youngest sister, Nee, was the artist in the family, but it had been a surprise to Mia to find she had her own talents, too.

‘This is lovely, dear.’ Mr Chivers patted her hand then began to load his plate with sandwiches and scones. ‘And not just the food, though I’ll be on strict rations when we get home, won’t I, Jen?’ He winked at his wife.

‘Silly old fool,’ Mrs Chivers said, but there was real affection in her voice.

Undaunted, Mr Chivers continued. ‘You’ve made a beautiful home here, inside and out.’

Mia smiled as a warm glow started inside. ‘I can’t take credit for the garden, my thumb is more brown than green. Luckily my friends and my in-laws have plenty of talent in that department. The garden and grounds are down to them. You should have seen the mess out here before.’

‘In-laws?’ Mrs Chivers’ tone held a hint of something sly. ‘I didn’t realise you and your young man were married.’ She nodded at Mia’s naked fingers. ‘No ring.’

This was another of those things she hadn’t taken into account when she decided to open a guest house. Hotels were impersonal, anonymous places, but opening your home to people was different. They expected to get to know you, even over the space of a few days. No one had been rude, but she’d been surprised at how open people were, how much they shared with her, and the kinds of questions they asked in return.

‘I was referring to my late husband’s parents, Mrs Chivers. Daniel and I aren’t married, yet.’

The iron legs of her chair scraped back and Mrs Chivers descended on Mia to gather her into a fierce hug. Shocked, and not altogether sure what to do, Mia returned the embrace with a tentative pat on her shoulder. Mrs Chivers pulled back, ‘Oh, my dear, it’s an absolute sod of a thing to lose the man you love. And you so young as well. At least I had thirty good years with my Tony.’

Mia couldn’t stop herself from glancing between the older couple. She’d assumed they’d been together for years. Mr Chivers gave her a nod, his expression supremely unconcerned. ‘That’s right. I’m the also-ran. Jen and I had a thing donkey’s years ago, but we drifted apart and found happiness with other partners. We ran into each other at one of those U3A clubs and it was like I’d seen her yesterday.’

Was that a blush on Mrs Chivers’ cheeks? Mia found herself softening to the woman. Yes, she was an awkward customer, but there was a kind heart under there, too. She squeezed her arm gently. ‘I’m glad you’ve found happiness again.’

Mrs Chivers touched her cheek. ‘And you have, too, I hope, my dear?’

‘Yes. Yes, I have.’ A lump formed in her throat. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get all weepy again. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you in peace to enjoy your tea.’

Mrs Chivers gave her one more quick hug then let her go. Needing a few minutes to compose herself, Mia escaped down the path rather than returning to the house. The grey army had done an amazing job with the garden, and the flowerbeds were already bright with colour. The shrubs and bushes edging the garden shone with every shade of green, a verdant promise of more to come. Buddleia lined the back of the lawn, framing the steps which led to the beach. Mia paused, picturing them ripe with white and purple blossom, covered in dancing butterflies.

It would be the perfect backdrop for a late-summer wedding. Chairs on the lawn for guests during the ceremony and a barbeque on the beach afterwards. They could offer a package for couples wanting an intimate, more casual affair, and the harem suite would serve as an unusual wedding-night setting. Daniel might even be persuaded to take a couple of pictures, unique souvenirs of a special day.

Warmth enveloped her back, and his arms encircled her waist. ‘I’ve been watching you for the past five minutes. You’ve got that look on your face. What are you planning?’

She glanced over her shoulder and the look of eager expectation on his face bowled her over. Whatever mad scheme she came up with, he would be first in line to cheer her on.

Not soon. Now.

‘I’m thinking we could hold weddings here at Butterfly Cove. We’d have to give it a dry run ourselves, of course.’

The corners of Daniel’s mouth kicked up and he repeated the words he’d said to her just a few feet away on the beach, the first time they’d made love. ‘Mia Sutherland, are you asking me to marry you?’

‘Yes, Daniel Fitzwilliams, I most certainly am.’

Chapter Four

The miles slipped past the window, grey urban sprawl giving way to longer and longer stretches of green fields as the train took them east to west from London to Somerset. It was the same route they used when travelling to stay with their friends in Butterfly Cove, and Aaron wished they were heading further south to that peaceful spot on the coast rather than their actual destination. Luke sat opposite him, head resting against the window, eyes closed as he nodded along to whatever he was listening to through his headphones. A study in relaxation, if you could ignore his fingers drumming against his thigh. Aaron swallowed a sigh. Going home shouldn’t feel like a duty, but he’d dodged every invitation since Christmas. Maybe Cathy would be too busy being the centre of attention to bother with him.

It wasn’t fair. And yes, that made him sound like a whiny little kid instead of a grown man of nearly thirty, but damn it, it wasn’t fair. He loved his dad, adored his brother and would have loved Cathy, too, if she’d let him, but the time for that was long past. He’d settle for friendship; hell, he’d settle for being politely ignored. Anything would be a respite from the smiling barbs and digs. Each time he crossed the threshold of the one place on earth he should feel safe and happy, he swore he wouldn’t rise to the bait. He’d be like Teflon and let it all just slide right off him. Shrug and smile, move past it and let Dad and Luke breathe easier.

His fingers clenched around the small box in his pocket. The sharp corners dug into his skin to the point of pain. He could tell himself a hundred times he didn’t care, that he didn’t need her approval, her affection, but it was a lie. The cost of the gold Pandora charm in the box proved it. How many times would he do this to himself? Memories flashed of homemade cards hidden behind others on the mantelpiece, of flowers purchased with preciously hoarded pocket money left to wilt without water. Then there was the jumper she’d admired in a shop window which somehow ended up with a hole in it the first time she wore it. All easily explained away as silly accidents, but somehow it only ever happened with gifts from Aaron.

A nudge to his foot startled him and he blinked the burn from his eyes. Luke stared at him across the little table between them, a deep furrow between his brows. His headphones were looped around his neck and faint, tinny music echoed from them. ‘You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.’ As much as he loved his mum, Luke was under no illusions about her animosity towards Aaron.

‘Yeah, I do.’

Luke shook his head. ‘You really are a glutton for punishment. Ah, sod that, let’s talk about something else. Are you going to tell Dad about the cottage?’

Ah yes, in just one week’s time he’d be the proud new owner of Honeysuckle Cottage. His offer had been half in jest. He’d assumed, once they’d had a chance to think about it, that Karen and Dave would put the property on the market. Orcombe’s location made it a prime destination for eager weekend commuters looking to escape city life. However, they’d settled for a quick, easy sale instead and, thanks to the miracle of two solicitors who had heeded their clients’ instructions about concluding the deal swiftly, they were in the final stages of exchanging. His investments had been cashed in for the deposit and he was the sole holder of an eye-watering mortgage. The monthly payments were less than his current rent, so it wasn’t like he’d overextended himself. It was just the overall figure that made his knees a bit wobbly.

It had been too good an opportunity to pass up and, if he changed his mind, he could do the place up and put it back on the market. ‘If I get some time alone with him, I will.’

Luke leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. ‘So, you can tell me to mind my own business, but how are you going to afford two places? The rent on my flat is sucking my will to live, along with the bulk of my salary.’

‘I’m giving up the flat.’ Saying it out loud, acknowledging the truth of what he’d been doing over the past few weeks, sent his stomach roiling. It wasn’t only his flat he’d given notice on.

His brother sat back in his seat. ‘You can’t be thinking of commuting from Orcombe every day.’ Aaron stayed silent, watching the thought process play out on Luke’s face. There was a reason he was crap at poker. ‘Oh.’ Luke glanced out of the window and back again. Red splotches sat high on his cheekbones and, when he spoke, there was a thread of anger in his tone. ‘So, when were you going to tell me?’

‘Come on, Spud, don’t be like that. I’ve barely got to grips with this myself.’ Aaron shrugged his shoulders, not liking the guilt weighing on them. Luke was a grown man, they had their own lives. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. ‘Is it me, or is it hot in here?’

Luke had chosen to study and then live in London in direct opposition to his mother’s wishes. There’d been tears and recriminations for weeks and his brother had faced it all with remarkable stoicism. He was the only person immune to Cathy’s attempts at manipulation, and the only one she would forgive anything. And, in his heart, Aaron knew Luke had chosen London to be near him, an open declaration of support and an enormous eff you to his mother. He owed him better than this. ‘I didn’t plan for this to happen, but the cottage was too good an opportunity to pass up, and I’ve been feeling out of sorts for a while.’

His brother scrubbed his face with his hands, like he was trying to erase the anger bubbling. ‘What will you do for work?’

Aaron shrugged. ‘I’ll try and increase my freelance stuff, take a financial advisor’s course to expand my range. It’s a prime area for older people and those looking to retire, and with all the changes the government’s been making to pensions, there’s a market for it. I might even look at mortgage brokering in time. If going independent doesn’t pan out, then I’ll look for an accountancy firm in the area.’ That was his least-preferred choice, but at least his qualifications were transferable to anywhere in the country. Coming home to his own place, setting down some roots and becoming part of a community would be worth almost any price.

Luke chewed his bottom lip as he stared into the middle distance. His thinking-face their dad called it. Aaron grinned as a memory drifted up of Luke sitting at the kitchen table, the exact same expression screwing up his little features, legs swinging back and forth as he tried to puzzle his way through his maths homework. He’d sit there for hours before asking for help, stubborn little sod. A fierce rush of love and pride flooded him. ‘You could do it, too, you know.’ His soft words startled Luke’s vacant stare back into focus.

‘Do what? Have some kind of emotional breakdown and chuck everything I’ve worked for away?’

Aaron laughed. ‘Nah, leave that to Daniel.’ He reached out to cover Luke’s hand with his own, holding his gaze as he let the smile fall from his lips. ‘I’m serious. I’ve never known anyone who works harder than you when you set your mind to it. Think about how much fun we’ve had down at Butterfly Cove. Your designs for the studios are brilliant.’

Luke snorted. ‘I can’t just open my own firm of architects, I don’t have the experience, or the finances, to do it.’

‘So do something different, expand your options same as I’m doing. Project management, design jobs for small tradesmen like Jordy and his dad. Lots of little things to keep busy and build a client base.’

Luke shook his head. ‘This is your adventure, Aaron, not mine. I can’t live in your shadow for ever.’

Is that what he thought he’d been doing? ‘Then don’t. Take your place beside me where you belong.’ His mind raced a mile a minute, building on the possibilities. His voice rose in excitement. ‘Imagine it – Spenser Brothers Limited. You and me against the world, Spud!’

Luke shook his head again, but he couldn’t stop the broad grin lifting the corners of his mouth. ‘You’re off your head.’

‘Probably. You in?’

‘Why the hell not?’

***

Aaron paced the kitchen, checked his watch again and sighed. He hated being late, to the point of irritating friends and acquaintances with his need for punctuality. Those who knew him well often gave him a later meeting time so he didn’t arrive miles before anyone else. Laughter carried from the living room where his dad and Luke were watching a sitcom while they waited. The mistress of the grand entrance, Cathy would be at least another ten minutes. Needing to do something, he grabbed a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge and went to join the others.

Luke took the offered beer, then leant to one side to see the screen when Aaron didn’t move quickly enough. Knowing his reputation as an annoying big brother depended upon it, Aaron stood his ground, taking his time to pop the lids off the remaining two beers and handing the spare to his dad.

‘Shift your arse!’ Luke kicked him none too gently in the shin.

Aaron stayed put. ‘It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.’

‘That’s not the point.’

He bit the inside of his cheek so as not to laugh. They’d slipped into the same banter routine they’d been throwing at each other for the past twenty-odd years. ‘Then what is the point?’

‘Daaad!’ Luke whined, sending them both into gales of laughter.

‘How old are you two?’ Brian Spenser made a fair attempt at his best stern-dad voice before giving up and taking a mouthful of his beer. ‘Sit down, Bumble, you’re making the place look untidy.’ Aaron’s grandmother had knitted him a black-and-yellow-striped jumper when he was a baby. Mum had said it made him look like a bumblebee, and the name had stuck. He was years past such a childish nickname, but he and his dad both clung to it. A shared connection to his mum, of which they had precious few.

Aaron plonked himself down on the sofa next to Luke, still grinning. The silly moment had loosened the tension from his shoulders and he relaxed deeper into the cushion behind him. Cathy was as Cathy did and it was stupid to get wound up over something he would excuse in any of his friends.

An advert break interrupted the sitcom, and his dad got up and crossed the room to lean out into the hallway. ‘Come on, darling. The table was booked for five minutes ago,’ he called up the stairs. The local pub was only a few minutes’ walk down the road and boasted an exceptionally good restaurant. They were regular customers so the landlord wouldn’t give away their booking at least.

‘All right, all right, you don’t have to shout.’ Aaron lifted his head, following her progress through the familiar creaks of the upper floorboards. He could still remember the location of each loose one—one step outside the bathroom, two from his bedroom door. There’d been more than one late night/early morning when he’d tiptoed around them because he was out past his curfew.

His dad stepped back into the centre of the living room, a smile on his face and a brightness in his eye. ‘You look lovely, darling.’

Cathy wafted in on a cloud of her signature perfume and did a little twirl. Aaron had to admit, his dad was right. Still slim and fit from her regular sessions in the gym they’d installed in the spare bedroom, Cathy always made the most of herself. The coffee-coloured silk blouse she wore brought a warmth to her skin and looked good tucked into a pair of slim-legged taupe trousers. Wedged sandals gave her a bit of extra height, something she needed because the three of them topped out at six foot. Her deftly highlighted hair was caught up in some kind of fancy knot at the nape of her neck. Jewellery shone at her ears, throat and wrist.

Brian caught her hand and drew it to his lips in a courtly gesture, and a delicate blush highlighted her cheeks. Whatever issues Aaron and she might have, the love his father and stepmother shared for each was honest and true. His dad held on to Cathy’s hand, turning it left and right with a frown. ‘Where’s your new bead?’

The comment drew Aaron’s attention to the charm bracelet on her wrist, and a familiar icy sensation gripped his stomach. The glittering band around her arm was the one Luke had bought her for Christmas, the one Aaron had spent ages making sure he’d selected the correct style of bead for. Cathy tugged her hand, trying to free it, but Brian refused to let go. She heaved an aggrieved sigh. ‘I don’t know what you’re making a fuss about. I said thank you to Aaron for my gift. It just didn’t match my outfit.’

But the mix of blue, red and silver beads threaded onto the thin band did, apparently. Aaron took a deep swig from his beer to keep the sarcastic snap in his head.

‘Mum.’ Luke sounded exasperated, and not a little angry.

Christ, if he didn’t do something, they’d be having a full-blown argument. Aaron heaved himself up from the deep cushions and stepped to Cathy’s side. Bending his head, he brushed a quick kiss on her cheek. ‘You look great, Cathy. It’s your birthday and you should wear whatever you want.’ He managed to keep his tone light, but anyone who looked at him would be able to see the muscle he could feel ticking in his jaw. Aaron escaped to the kitchen to dump his bottle and gather his cool.

The rest of the evening stretched out before him. Dad and Luke would carry the conversation, expanding it to include Aaron because Cathy would focus almost exclusively on her son and his life. He could picture her reaction to his and Luke’s plans. Wide-eyed shock that Aaron would expect Luke to risk his promising career and fall in with him. She’d tilt her head, and purse her lips as she pleaded with their dad to talk sense into them. His excitement over the future turned sour in his mouth. And just like that, he was done.

Getting upset over the bead was pointless. It was just one more thing in a lifetime of small snubs. It was always his cards to her that somehow ended up at the back of the mantelpiece; the flowers he gave her that drooped and died in a few days. His gifts which lay neglected and forgotten, tucked away in the back of her drawer. She’d always done her duty by him, helped with his homework, nursed him when he was sick, keeping him at arm’s length all the while. The ever-hopeful child within him had never quite given up, though.

Until now.

Cathy would never do more than tolerate his presence, would never fill the void his mum had left in his life. He didn’t know why she couldn’t love him, but it was past time he stopped trying to win her over. He pushed away from the sink, skirting the three of them where they waited in the hallway. Tension hung thick in the air, a strain none of them would be feeling if he wasn’t there. Things between Aaron and Cathy would never be better, so why keep trying when Dad and Luke got caught in the crossfire?

‘I don’t feel too well and I don’t want to spoil dinner, so the three of you should go without me.’

‘Aaron...’ His dad stood in the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets, confusion and sadness on his face.

‘It’s all right, Dad. I’ve been trying to ignore this headache all day, but I think it’s going to be a bad one. I’ll have an early night and we can catch up in the morning.’

He glanced past his dad to Cathy, forcing an empty smile. ‘I don’t mean to be a party pooper. Make sure they spoil you properly, okay?’

She managed a faint look of concern, but it didn’t disguise the flicker of relief in her eyes. ‘Do you need anything before we go?’

‘I’ll grab a couple of tablets and a drink of water.’ Avoiding the suspicious gaze of his brother, Aaron shooed them out with repeated assurances, then closed the door with a sense of finality. After thirty years, it was time to acknowledge the truth. This house wasn’t home any more. It was time to make his own.

Chapter Five

If anyone had asked her two weeks previously, Kiki would’ve told them she was an honest person. She’d never learned the art of lying, even as a self-defence mechanism. If she’d taken to heart the lessons in deceit her mother had demonstrated to her, perhaps things might have turned out differently. But no, Kiki had had to be the one to try and see the best in everyone, to build bridges and mend fences, taking on the blame more often than not in the process. How she’d envied Mia’s determination and Nee’s fiery spirit. When they’d been dishing out backbone, Kiki had somehow stood in the wrong queue.

The change, when it came, was so sudden, so surprising to her given all the times she’d turned the other cheek, she understood what people meant when they talked about reaching ‘breaking point’. Even at his worst, when the words he spat wounded her deeper than the occasional slap or punch, she had assumed Neil loved her. A twisted, ugly kind of love, but love just the same. So, she’d convinced herself that trying a little harder, finding another excuse for him when he had none of his own to give, would nurture their stunted relationship into something beautiful.

But she was like the little pig in the storybook, building her house of love from straw, stacking the fragile stalks into piles to be blown down again and again. Fear, doubt, and not a little jealousy had prevented her from examining why Mia’s relationship with Jamie had been forged in brick and stone, solid enough to stand against everything except the cruelties of fate. She listened instead to the other mothers at the school gate, who moaned about their husbands and convinced herself all relationships had troubles.

Two words.

Two words had been all it took for the scales to fall from her eyes. Two stupid little words. Two precious little words she’d tucked away in her heart the first time Neil had whispered them into the ear of an innocent, lovestruck girl. My Helen. Having been raised on the tales of the Ancient Greek heroes, there was only one Helen. The woman so beautiful that men had burned the world for her. When Neil had likened her to that mythical siren, it had turned her head and won her completely. Two words meant only for her, she’d assumed until she’d read those bloody awful emails and seen the truth—her husband was a liar, his declaration of true love nothing more than a tawdry cliché designed to get her, and God only knew how many other women, into his bed.

And so, for the past two weeks, she’d smiled her way through the frantic preparations for Neil’s trip, washing, ironing and packing his clothes. Not a word of dissent had passed her lips as she collected the lists of books he left her, marking the sections that would most help with his research. It was like the old days, when she’d given up her own studies to help him through his PhD. Only this was no labour of love. Volunteering to help him gave her the perfect excuse to spend precious hours in his study without raising suspicion.

For every piece of information she prepared for him, she squirreled away one of her own. Passwords, account details, balances; all the things she’d been ‘too stupid’ to deal with, according to Neil—she made them her own. For every shirt of his she neatly folded, she packed something belonging to the kids into the boot of her car. Like the little mouse everyone believed her to be, she burrowed and sneaked around, a dull little thing, not worthy of notice. Soon, the little mouse would roar.

Being underestimated by everyone had turned out to be the perfect cover. Clad in her usual tidy uniform of a matching skirt and blouse, hair rolled into a discreet bun at the nape of her neck, she sat on a visitor’s chair in the school office and waited for the head teacher to be free. She clenched her fingers around the handle of the bag resting in her lap to prevent herself from fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

‘She shouldn’t be too much longer.’ The secretary offered an apologetic glance at the clock on the wall as the minute hand clicked loudly to mark quarter past the hour.

All those years of being subjected to her mother’s play-acting were finally paying off. Kiki pictured Vivian supine on the small couch beneath her window, a soft blanket over her legs, and an empty glass resting on the table beside her. ‘Mummy needs her special drink, darling. I’ve got such a terrible pain in my head.’

Kiki gripped her handbag until her knuckles turned white. With hindsight, the catch in her mother’s voice, the flutter of her hand as it gestured to her glass, had been a performance worthy of the stage. To a worried six-year-old girl, though, it had been all too real. Vivian could even cry on demand—nothing too drastic in case it spoiled her delicate complexion, just enough for a few tears to shimmer on her lashes as she whispered, ‘You want to help me, don’t you, Kiki? You want to be a good girl for Mummy.’

Swallowing the bad taste in her mouth, Kiki fixed her mind on her end goal and let her voice drop almost to a whisper. ‘I hope not. We still have so much to put in place.’ She returned the woman’s sympathetic smile with just the right amount of wavering in her own. Vivian at her manipulative best couldn’t beat the performance she’d been laying on since she’d hurried into the office. Angela Baines was a pleasant enough woman, but a notorious gossip—always had been. If you wanted a rumour to race around the playground, a word dropped in her ear was all it took.

Angela had lapped up Kiki’s tale with alacrity. A contemporary of theirs, she remembered the details of Jamie’s death, ‘so young, such a tragedy’. It hadn’t taken much to convince her Mia was struggling to come to terms with it still. Swallowing down the lump of guilt, Kiki had taken her sister’s name in vain, dropping enough vague hints for Angela to fill in the gaps and assume Kiki had no choice but to carry out a mercy dash to the coast before the very worst happened. She could only hope Mrs Wilson was as gullible.

The inner door swung open and Kiki stood. She paused to place a silent hand of thanks on Angela’s shoulder, and to accept the returning pat of sympathy, before following Mrs Wilson into her inner sanctum. Nothing appeared to have changed in the twenty years since she and her sisters had been pupils here. The carefully drawn pictures pinned to the noticeboard were different, but the sentiment behind them struck a chord of memory.

Following Kiki’s gaze, Mrs Wilson cast a glance over her shoulder. ‘I had one of Nee’s drawings up there back in the day. It’s in the cupboard somewhere. Perhaps I should dig it out and boost my retirement savings.’

Kiki allowed herself to smile. She couldn’t image Mrs Wilson cashing in on any of her beloved mementos. ‘You might need to hang on to it for a few more years, but we have great hopes for her. She’s studying in New York, did you hear?’

‘No, I hadn’t. How exciting for her.’ Mrs Wilson sat back and folded her arms. ‘I understand Mia is making a new start for herself.’

Kiki stared down at her lap. Here was the perfect opening she needed, a few choice words and she could conclude her business. Another item ticked off her secret to-do list. So what if she couldn’t look the woman in the eye and lie? Kiki Jackson, the timid little mouse, rarely did eye contact at the best of times. She opened her mouth, then closed it again when the words stuck in her throat. It didn’t seem right, to diminish her sister when she had shown nothing but courage in the face of so much suffering. Maybe there was no need for lies.

‘She is. I need to go and stay with her and, with Neil going overseas for work, I can’t leave the children. I know it’s not long until the holidays, but it can’t wait. A person can only endure so much before they buckle under the weight of things. A person’s life shouldn’t feel like it’s over before they’re thirty, right? It shouldn’t be impossible for a person to ask their family to help them correct a mistake.’ Words spoken from the heart, they could be interpreted by the listener in myriad ways.

The springs in Mrs Wilson’s chair creaked as she shifted around, and Kiki risked a quick glance up through her lashes. The older woman rested her arms on the blotter in front of her and folded her fingers together. ‘No, my dear. Family should come first, above all things. If you need to join your sister, then I’m sure we can reach some accommodation with Matthew’s schooling. We try to wind the children down over the last couple of weeks before the holidays. I’ll consult his teacher and we’ll forward you anything he needs to catch up on.’

Kiki swallowed around the lump in her throat. ‘Thank you, Mrs Wilson. I’d wait if I could, but I’ve almost left it too long as it is.’ Another truth. If she didn’t stand up for herself now, she never would. The children deserved better. What example was she setting to them, and what legacy would they inherit, if she continued to mimic her own parents and remain in a failed relationship?

‘Can we expect to see Matthew back for the new term?’

No. ‘I’m not in a position to confirm that. It depends how things go over the next few weeks. I’ll notify you as soon as I can.’ Even that prevarication tasted bitter on her tongue.

The glint in Mrs Wilson’s eye said she’d caught it, but her tone remained as mild as her words. ‘You just let me know when you know. If you need recommendations for schools in the area, don’t hesitate to ask and I’ll make some enquiries.’ She leaned further across the table, brows drawn together, no sign of the sweet, soft lady in her sharp eyes. ‘A change of scenery might be just what Matthew needs, he’s been quite withdrawn lately.’

Guilt wrenched Kiki’s insides. It shouldn’t have taken the shattering of her own dreams to spur her into action. She should have been braver, acted sooner. Matty and Charlie needed her to protect them and, so far, she’d done a terrible job of it. No more. She sat up straight. ‘I think it’s going to be exactly what we all need.’

***

Neil stepped out of their bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He played squash several times a week during his lunchbreak and had retained the same attractive physique she’d once marvelled over. He paused at the sight of his clothes laid out across the bed, the steaming cup of coffee waiting on his bedside cabinet. Kiki bit the inside of her cheek to keep a bitter smile at bay. In shattering her to pieces, Neil had finally achieved the perfect wife. She’d not set a foot wrong in the past two weeks, anticipating his every need before he’d even thought about it. ‘I’ve double-checked with the taxi company; your car will be here in half an hour.’

‘Good.’ He let the towel drop and began to dress. The wet tangle on the carpet taunted her, and Kiki forced herself to turn away, knowing if he glanced her way he would see the hatred seething inside her. The perfect wife would scuttle forward, pick it up and hang it back in the bathroom. The perfect wife wouldn’t imagine grabbing the cup of coffee and dashing the scalding contents into his eyes.

She’d never be perfect, it seemed. ‘Do you want anything to eat?’

Neil glanced up from the act of knotting his tie. ‘What? No. I’ll get something at the airport once I’m through security.’

Washed down with champagne, probably. He’d never spared his wallet when he’d been wooing her. No doubt the new Helen would receive the same treatment. A better person would warn the foolish girl, would contact the university and report Neil for exploiting a position of trust. Kiki had considered it, but at the end of the day, a roaring mouse was still just a mouse. A better person would confront her husband, tell him the truth and walk away with her head held high. She’d scuttle away once the coast was clear and count herself lucky for it.

She watched him turn left and right, checking the hang of his jacket. A piece of fluff clung to one shoulder and she stepped forward to remove it. Their eyes met in the mirror and she searched for one hint of the man she’d thought to spend the rest of her life with. His even, handsome features were as familiar to her as her own, and yet she knew nothing about the person beneath the flesh. How was it possible? How could she have devoted the past nine years to a stranger? Unbidden, her fingers traced the top of his shoulder, seeking proof there had once been a connection between the two of them. A frown creased his brow and he shrugged off her hand. ‘Don’t fuss, Kiki. I hate it when you fuss.’

Don’t fuss. How many times had he said that to her? About as many times as he’d accused her of neglecting him. No matter what she did, she’d always be on the wrong side of him. She folded her fingers into a fist and pressed it into the top of her thigh. ‘I’ll wake the children and we’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready.’

‘Let them sleep. I can’t be doing with them whining around me.’

The perfect-wife mask slipped a little. ‘You’re going to be away for three months, Neil. I thought you might want to say goodbye to them.’

‘Christ, Kiki. I can do without a fucking guilt trip. What do you want me to do, give up the opportunity I’ve waited my whole career for?’ He took a step towards her and she shrank back, an instinctive response intended to defuse the situation, but it only served to stoke his temper. ‘I’ve licked your father’s boots for years to get this grant, given you everything you needed even after you hung the weight of a family around my neck, but you can’t let me enjoy one thing that isn’t about you. You stupid, selfish bitch—’ The beep of a car horn outside cut him off, the promised taxi having arrived early.

Neil straightened up, ran a hand over his hair to smooth it back into place and rolled his shoulders. He snatched his wallet and keys from beside the bed and stuffed them into his pockets. ‘Great job, Kiki. All I wanted was a calm, quiet departure and you couldn’t even give me that.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He’d already shouldered his way out of the door, but the words weren’t meant for him. They were for herself, for the idealistic girl who’d deserved a man who loved her. For her children, who meant everything to her and yet so little to him. For Mia, whose love and support she’d almost thrown away.

The front door slammed and quiet voices drifted from the street below her window. Checking her watch, Kiki gave the departing taxi five minutes in case Neil had forgotten anything in his haste to leave. Satisfied he was gone, she crouched beside the bed and dragged out her own already-packed case. Her self-imposed timetable gave her two hours to finish loading the car, get the kids up and ready and their journey started. She wanted to be on the motorway the moment the rush-hour traffic eased.

She left Matty to supervise Charlie’s breakfast while she ensconced herself in Neil’s study. They didn’t know what was happening beyond the fact there would be no school today. She hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up until she knew for sure what the next step would be. Her hand clenched around her mobile, hard enough for the corners to dig into her palm. By rights, the call she was about to make should have been made two weeks ago, but she hadn’t dared. Escaping to Mia had been her only plan, and belief there was a place for them in Butterfly Cove the only thing that kept her moving forward.

Whispering a silent prayer, she scrolled through her favourites and tapped on her sister’s name. It was early to be calling, but she hoped Mia would be up. The ringtone echoed in her ear just long enough for the nerves to start dancing in her stomach, and then a deep voice answered. ‘Butterfly House, hello?’

Kiki cleared her dry throat. ‘Hello, can I speak to Mia, please?’

‘You’ve just missed her, I’m afraid. Gone to catch the early train to Exeter. Is there something I can help you with?’

She hesitated. The voice of the man at the other end of the phone had a soft West Country burr to it. Hadn’t Mia said Daniel came from somewhere in the north of England? ‘Daniel?’

‘Nope.’ A kind chuckle softened the denial. ‘This is a really bad game of twenty questions. My name’s Aaron, I’m a friend of theirs, a neighbour, too, I suppose you could say. What did you say your name was?’

She hadn’t. ‘I’m Kiki.’ She hesitated for a second. ‘Mia’s sister.’

‘Ah, yes.’ The way he said it sounded like he knew who she was, which left her wondering what else he knew about her. She sank back into her chair. In all the scenarios she’d played out in her mind, she hadn’t once assumed her sister wouldn’t be there when she needed her.

Heat prickled behind her eyes and she bit her lip when it started to wobble. ‘Do… do you know when Mia will be back?’

‘She’s gone dress shopping with Madeline, so it could be all day. Butterfly House is booked solid for the season, so this is one of her few chances to get out and about.’ Dress shopping? Mia’s wardrobe ran to jeans and jumpers in the winter and shorts and vest tops in the summer. There was something about the inflection in his voice, the way he had stressed the word. If she was dress shopping… A sob escaped her as the realisation struck. They’d become so estranged she didn’t even know her sister was getting married again. She’d waited too long to respond to the messages of support. The unanswered texts lurking in the inbox on her phone.

At first, she’d been too angry, too blinded by her own shame to reply to Mia’s overtures after the fight they’d had during her recent visit home. As the days slipped by, the anger had faded and she’d promised herself she would answer… tomorrow. Pat and Bill had called, even taken the children out for the day, and she had taken it as a sign Mia still cared. That she still had time to build bridges between them.

Of course, Mia still cared. Brushing aside her hurt, she focused on the more critical piece of information Aaron had imparted. It sounded like Mia’s new venture was already a success. Fully booked could mean only one thing—there would be no room for her and the kids. She shivered, as though a cold wind had blown over her and her plans scattered like straw on the wind once more. The last thing Mia needed was her barging in and causing chaos. Kiki tried to stem her tears, but it was like she’d opened the flood gates and didn’t know how to close them again.

Chapter Six

Aaron cursed a blue streak in his head as he listened to the quiet, desperate sobs in his ear. He should have left well enough alone and let the answerphone catch the call. Head buried in the plans for the barn while he sipped his coffee and waited for Daniel to return from running Mia to the station, he hadn’t even thought about what he was doing when the handset on the table started to ring. He didn’t know much about Kiki; Daniel had mentioned some estrangement between the sisters to do with Kiki’s marriage, but hadn’t gone into details. Instead of minding his own business, he’d blathered on, shoving both feet firmly into his mouth, it seemed, by mentioning the reason behind Mia’s trip to Exeter.

A harsh, wracking noise ripped from her throat, so pain-filled it hurt to listen to it, and Aaron couldn’t help himself. ‘Is there anything I can do to help you?’

‘He… he’s gone now. Gone for the summer and I waited… I thought it would be best to wait… and I just assumed it would be okay…’

He tried to make sense of the jumble of words. ‘Who’s gone? Your husband?’

‘Yes… yes, with his new Helen.’ More tears followed and he gave up trying to understand the broken sounds she was making.

Feeling wretched and useless, he offered what comfort he could. ‘It’s all right, Kiki. Everything will be all right. Don’t try and talk, just let it out for a minute. Shh, now.’ He continued to mutter whatever soothing nonsense words came into his head until she finally grew quiet.

‘I shouldn’t bother you with this,’ she managed at last.

‘Just talk to me, Kiki. You sound like you need a friend.’

She laughed, a hollow little sound that stabbed him deep, as though the concept of a friend was alien to her. When things had gone to hell on Cathy’s birthday he’d jumped on the train to Butterfly Cove without a second thought, knowing Daniel and Mia would be there for him. What must it be like to not have a security net of friends you could turn to? He tried another tack. ‘Mia has her mobile with her. Why don’t you call her?’

‘I can’t. She doesn’t need me spoiling her day.’ The hopelessness in her tone stirred something ugly in his gut. Someone had done a real job on this woman if she honestly believed her sister would resent her reaching out when she was in such obvious need. If Luke ever tried to hide anything like this from him, he’d wring his bloody neck.

‘Then tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll find a way to fix it.’

She laughed a second time and if he never heard the bitter, mirthless sound again it would be too soon. ‘I’m leaving my husband. Well, I’m trying to, but I can’t even manage to do that properly. I assumed there would be room for me and the children at Mia’s, but you know what they say about assuming anything… Oh God, Neil was right, I am stupid.’

When he had time to think about it later, he couldn’t decide what made him say his next words. Whether out of loyalty to his friendship with Daniel and Mia, or his horror at hearing another person speak about themselves with such self-loathing, or his own vulnerability after losing the only place he’d ever really thought of as home, he didn’t know. ‘You can stay with me.’

Shocked silence. Then, ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

He tucked the phone under his ear and leaned back in the kitchen chair. ‘What’s ridiculous? I’m the proud new owner of a four-bedroom cottage, which is less than two miles from your sister’s doorstep. I’ll be out most of the time, either meeting with clients for work or here helping Daniel with the barn. I can probably move into one of the attic rooms at Butterfly House if you’d rather have the place to yourself.’

‘I couldn’t possibly turn you out of your own home.’ She sounded thoughtful, though, which was a step up from outright rejection.

‘You have two children to think of, Kiki. You can do whatever you need to. When were you hoping to travel down?’

‘The car’s already packed.’ Her sheepish admission settled it as far as he was concerned.

‘Then come.’ The back door opened and his eyes met his best friend’s. ‘Daniel’s here now and he agrees with me. Get in the car and drive. You’ve made the hard decision and everyone here will help you in whatever way you need.’ He let his absolute conviction ring through his words. He knew Mia and Daniel would back him, Madeline and Richard, too. They’d pulled together when Daniel had needed them to resolve the crisis at the gallery caused by his former agent trying to sell his photographs behind his back, and they would do so again to help this poor, lonely woman.

‘You make it sound so easy.’

Aaron shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. He’d never had a serious enough relationship to endure a messy break-up, but he understood loss better than most. ‘It’ll get worse before it gets better. But at least you won’t have to face it on your own.’

‘Mummy? Who are you talking to?’ The faint voice of a young boy reached his ears.

‘I’m talking to a new friend of ours, Matty. How would you like to go and stay near Aunty Mia for a while?’ Relief flooded him at her words. She was going to come.

Aaron listened to the excited chatter for a few moments before interrupting. ‘Kiki, do you have a pen?... Good. Write down my number and send me a text when you’re on your way.’ He reeled off the digits, making her repeat them back to him before ending the call.

He looked up at Daniel who was standing next to his chair, arms folded across his chest. His friend inclined his head towards the phone. ‘Mia’s sister?’

Aaron nodded. ‘She’s in a bit of state, trying to leave her husband and had a bit of a panic when she couldn’t get hold of Mia.’

He took the pronouncement more calmly than Aaron expected. Clearly, he knew more about the circumstances surrounding Kiki’s decision to leave her husband. ‘And she’s definitely coming?’

‘She’s promised to text before she sets off.’

Daniel scrubbed a hand through the close-cropped beard covering his chin. There might be one or two threads of silver showing in the dark hair, but Aaron didn’t think he had looked better in years. Mia had saved him, taken him in when he hit rock bottom and given Aaron something invaluable back in return—his best friend. If he could do even a fraction of the same for her and Kiki, he’d move heaven and earth in the process. Daniel stood. ‘Let me know when you hear from her and I’ll speak to Mia.’

Aaron nodded. ‘Of course. I meant what I said to her. She can stay at Honeysuckle Cottage for as long as she needs to.’ It was fully furnished, even if the décor was outdated and a little tired. Dave and Karen had left the bedrooms mostly intact and the contents of his flat had been enough to fill the gaps created by the furniture they’d taken with them. Single man and spinster might be a clash of styles, but he doubted the children would notice, or that Kiki would care about any decorative shortcomings. There was plenty of food in the fridge and it would take five minutes to make the beds up if Kiki took him up on the offer of a place to stay.

Daniel nodded. ‘Cheers, mate. We’ll let them sort it out between them when she gets here.’ He checked his watch. ‘Jordy will be here with the lads any minute, might as well get on while we can.’

Aaron had just crossed the yard to the barns with a thermos full of coffee when the phone in his pocket began to vibrate. He fished it out, unable to stop a sigh of relief at the three-word message from an unknown number. On our way. Continuing inside, he showed the message to Daniel, then made his way over to where their young project manager waited. ‘Where do you want me?’

‘First floor, if that’s all right with you? Plaster should be dry enough to start undercoating in Suite One.’ Suite sounded grand for the studio apartments which would house visiting artists, but the specs Daniel planned for them were of a high enough quality to carry it off. The main painting would be carried out by qualified contractors, but Aaron was happy to turn his hand to the grunt work where a strong back and decent work ethic were all the skill a man required.

He grabbed a pair of loose-fitting white overalls and tugged them on over his shorts and shirt, then made his way up the temporary staircase to the mezzanine above. Some helpful soul had already taped dust cloths across the newly laid laminate flooring. A box of disposable shoe covers sat on the table next to an industrial tin of undercoat and a set of rollers. Music drifted from an adjacent room, a familiar song already threatening to be one of those catchy summer hits the stations seemed to play every five minutes. It was still just the right side of new enough not to be annoying and he hummed along to the tune as he started to work. If he tried hard enough, he might even convince himself it was just a day like any other, though the flutter of anticipation in his gut told a different story.

He received two more texts during the day from Kiki, noting her progress when she stopped for petrol and a break. Richard had been dispatched to the station to collect his wife and Mia, and the two women were busy in the kitchen cooking up a welcome meal. Mia was insistent that Kiki should stay at Butterfly House, and Aaron had left Daniel to argue it out with her. Personally, he agreed with his friend that cancelling guests was a bad move so early into a new venture, but it wasn’t his call to make.

Richard had agreed with him and they’d retreated to the barn to tidy things away. It was make-work really, as Jordy ran a tight crew and they kept the work area in good order, but it would keep them out of trouble. Madeline had no such qualms about voicing her opinion and agreed with Daniel that Honeysuckle Cottage would be the best place for the new arrivals. She’d even gone so far as to offer Aaron a room at their place, and a small, selfish part of him hoped Kiki would take the cottage just so he could have Madeline fussing around him. She was a force of nature, a whirlwind of kindness who’d swept both Aaron and Luke into her makeshift family. Her affection for him was a bittersweet balm to the wounded boy who lurked in his soul. If only Cathy could do the same.

‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,’ he murmured under his breath. Gravel crunched outside and he and Richard gravitated towards the open door of the barn. A dark-blue hatchback sat on the driveway. Sunlight reflected off the windscreen, making it impossible to see the interior. Aaron started towards it, but hung back when the kitchen door of Butterfly House flew open, disgorging Mia, with Daniel and Madeline close on her heels. She ran for the car and tugged the driver’s door open with a cry of welcome.

‘Stand back darling, give poor Kiki chance to get out.’ Daniel placed his hand on Mia’s shoulder urging her to make some space.

A slender figure emerged, and Aaron found he’d closed the distance between himself and the car without noticing. The woman, Kiki, skirted the open door and half fell into her sister’s waiting arms. Her profile afforded him teasing glimpses of her features, a button nose, the same slightly prominent chin which gave Mia’s face a heart shape. Same deep-brown hair, although Kiki’s looked a lot longer than Mia’s spiky mop from the tangled knot at the back of her head.

Gentle sobs rose from the pair, but when Kiki lifted her head to glance at him over her sister’s shoulder, her cheek was tear-free. He raised a hand, and she offered him the ghost of a smile. His chest grew tight; the tiny tilt of her lips transformed her face. Too pale, too haunted with those dark shadows ringing her eyes, but damn, she might just be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. A beautiful woman who wasn’t even a day free of her unhappy marriage. Get a bloody grip, Spenser.

‘Mummy?’ A little boy, his pale skin and wounded eyes a match for his mother’s, clambered out of the back of the car.

‘I’m fine, poppet. Can you give your sister a hand?’ Kiki tried to disentangle herself from Mia, but Madeline was quicker.

‘I’ve got her.’ The older woman opened the opposite door as Richard hurried to her side to lend a hand. ‘Hello, darling. Look at your pretty dress, don’t you look gorgeous? Shall I help you with your buckle?’ Keeping up a constant stream of light chatter, Madeline fussed and flattered the little girl as she helped her out. Perched on Madeline’s hip, brown hair a riot of curls around her head, Charlotte cast a wary eye over the gathered group of strangers. Her lower lip wobbled and her face screwed up in an expression Aaron well remembered from when Luke was that age. A heart-rending wail split the air and fat tears began to roll down her plump cheeks.

‘Oh, Charlie, don’t cry, sweetheart.’ Kiki broke free from Mia’s arms and rushed to her daughter’s aid. She gathered Charlotte into her arms and rocked her back and forth, kissing her head and whispering endearments to try and soothe the fractious child.

A light touch on his arm caught Aaron’s attention and he stared down into Matthew’s big, blue eyes. ‘She needs Mr Bunny.’

Aaron crouched down so they were the same height. ‘Mr Bunny?’

The boy nodded. ‘He’s magic, he takes all the sad things away. Mummy packed him in the boot by mistake.’

‘We’d better find him then, eh?’ Aaron rose, turned to grab the keys from the ignition, then circled to the rear of the car. He pressed the unlock button and slipped his hand under the handle to release the catch.

‘Careful! It’s a bit full…’ Kiki’s warning came a fraction too late and Aaron found himself grabbing for half a dozen overflowing carrier bags as they tumbled from the top of the haphazard pile crammed into the small space. His lightning reflexes, honed on the rugby pitch, saved the day, or so he thought until the thin material of the supermarket bag hooked on his little finger began to tear. With his arms spread, trying to hold everything else in place he couldn’t do anything other than watch the orange plastic turn white as the weight of its contents stretched it beyond breaking point. Shoes, clothes and, well, hello, a flamingo-pink bra fell to the ground.

Tearing his gaze from the scrap of lace trailing over his foot, he looked up into a pair of horrified, amber-flecked eyes. The little girl resting on Kiki’s hip let forth another howl of utter wretchedness and Aaron had to bite his lip to stifle an inappropriate laugh. He looked from the embarrassed woman, past the tear-stained moppet, down to the solemn-faced boy at his side and back again. If he did nothing else, he’d put smiles on all their faces before the summer was through. ‘Welcome to Butterfly Cove.’

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