Second Chance Summer, page 13
She could see it wouldn’t be popular with everyone. Should she feel guilty for being here? No, Sam was trying to make a go of it and she was supporting him.
She found Sam wheelbarrowing roofing tiles towards one of the unfinished cottage units, which had a mound of building materials at the rear. Transporting those across and up to the resort couldn’t have been easy; no wonder he looked so fit.
With difficulty she dragged her eyes from Sam’s own impressive structure to the guest cottages. The simple single-storey stone buildings each had a window either side of a door and were built of the granite boulders found all over Stark and its neighbouring islands.
Even though they were simply constructed, they looked solid enough to withstand the worst the Atlantic could throw at them.
‘How did they build their houses? Two hundred years ago, I mean.’
‘Brute force. Those stones must have been shifted into place by hand, perhaps using ponies to help.’
‘And how have you managed?’ she asked.
‘Same, only without the ponies.’
He smiled yet Lily wished she hadn’t drawn her own attention to his muscular forearms and broad shoulders.
He wiped a hand over his forehead. ‘I’ll admit, it hasn’t been a walk in the park. It’s taken three years from the initial idea. My friend Aaron helped me at first and I can still call on mates to pitch in occasionally if need be. We brought equipment like the cement mixer and mini-digger over on the freight boat.’
‘Freight boat? I’d no idea it was such a complex operation.’ Clearly, Lily thought, she had a lot to learn about running a business in such a remote location.
‘Each island has its own communal freight boat used to bring heavier supplies and equipment from the main port in St Mary’s. As for the work here: Aaron helped with the roofing, and a local plumber and electrician fitted the bathrooms and restaurant kitchen. I paid them back by helping them with their own projects.’
‘The fit is to such a high standard, it must have been quite an investment.’ Lily was more impressed and amazed than ever that Sam had made the cottages so beautiful.
‘It wasn’t cheap. I used an inheritance from my maternal grandparents to get started plus savings from the building business.’ He cast a wistful eye over the unfinished cottage. ‘We’re nearly there. When I’ve finished the roof on this and made it watertight, I’ll start painting the third and fourth ones. The second is drying out and only needs furnishings.’
‘I could help you with that. Painting and furnishing.’
‘No way. You didn’t come here to work for me!’
‘It wouldn’t be work. I love getting hands on and I rarely have time now. I learned how to paint walls and sew from my mum and dad. You did say I could give you some tips, so here’s one: if someone offers to work for you for free, then you should grab the help with both hands.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Sam said.
‘Call it my therapy,’ she said archly.
He hesitated and she could see he was very tempted. ‘Like I said, I’ll think about it. Now, I’ll leave you to relax. And be careful while you’re on the island.’
‘I won’t get cut off, if that’s what you mean.’
A short time later, Lily gathered up her artist’s materials and set off to explore the side of the island she hadn’t seen the previous day. It was located below the South Hill at the opposite end from the pest house.
As she walked away from the retreat, the sounds of hammering and helicopters approaching Tresco were the only things to disturb the peace. Even they faded by the time she’d walked down the slope and was in the lee of the South Hill.
The zig-zag path turned and, suddenly, Tean Porth, with its handful of ruined cottages, came into view. They were a hundred metres or so back from a crescent of beach, its sand as pale as the moon, scattered with bleached driftwood.
Lily caught her breath at this thrilling glimpse into the past.
She walked down the path until she was on the flat grassy area the houses were built on. The single-storey cottages were very similar in layout to her own, but there the resemblance ended. These dwellings had no roofs or windows, and their interiors were almost overgrown with bracken, fern and foxgloves.
She stepped inside one, under the stone lintel. Sam had mentioned that the stones for some of the cottages might have been taken from even older structures: Iron Age homes and tombs. The sudden contrast between warm sun and deep shade made goosebumps stand out on her arms. The foliage and shadows created a dank chill that added to the gloomy atmosphere.
At one end of the cottage, the hearth still stood and was large enough to duck inside. There was a narrow walkway through the plant life, which must have been created by humans – though when, she’d no idea. Sam and his builder mates, probably, as he’d said they’d recently inspected the structures to see if it was feasible to convert them.
Lily stepped into the shadows of those Victorian ladies who had looked on Stark as a romantic tourist destination after its residents had been evacuated. She imagined them on their day trips, sitting by the ruined hearth with their picnics – quails’ eggs, hams and fancy cakes, with servants in tow to wait on them.
‘Oh!’
She let out a cry and flinched, before laughing at the sight of the crow she’d obviously scared from the hearth. It was only a bird … and even though this place was making her jittery, it was so atmospheric. She knew she had to paint it.
She found a large granite stone to sit on a little way above the cottages, which gave her a view of the tiny hamlet with the white beach of Tean Porth behind it and, in the distance, white breakers crashing against the rocks. She drew a rudimentary sketch then dipped her brush in the jar she’d half-filled from her water flask.
Soon, Lily was absorbed in her work, simply trying to enjoy the act of creating and not worry about the result. She’d have other days to draw and paint the scene, though it could never be quite the same as today or even this moment. With clouds, waves and light changing by the second, her painting would always be an amalgamation of multiple moments, never to be recaptured again.
A moment frozen in time, yet also lost.
Cara flew into her mind. Her sister would have been pleased to see her, sitting here, living for the day. Lily thought about Étienne, then … what must he have been through in that half a minute after his colleague had told him about the online reports?
He must have been devastated to hear of another loss in the family and by the thought of having to tell the girls that their auntie was gone.
To centre herself again, Lily heaved in a deep gulp of the air, scented with the tang of seaweed and flowers. The gulls’ cries seemed shriller and when she sipped from her flask and savoured the cold water, filtered from the island well, it tasted pure and sweet.
Oh, yes, she was alive.
She laid down her sketch pad, the sheet pinned back, and delved into her backpack for the sandwich she’d insisted on making for herself in Sam’s kitchen. Goat’s cheese salad on a granary roll from the Bryher bakery.
It smelled so fresh and tasted divine. She was sure her senses had been sharpened by the island’s brilliant light and pure air.
She smiled and reached for her flask. How fortunate she was to be living in such luxury, eating fresh food, never having to suffer hunger or thirst – unlike poor Mabel and her family. Her mouth was full when she saw it. She paused, and tried to swallow the food but it would hardly go down.
Goosebumps popped out on every inch of flesh.
Her hands shook as she abandoned her lunch on the stone. It couldn’t have been … Her eyes had been deceiving her. A trick of the light, her imagination working overtime.
She’d been sure she’d glimpsed a strange shadowy figure at the far end of the ruined cottage, but now she looked again, it had vanished.
‘Lily!’ Sam called down to her from the roof of the top cottage when she hurried past, breathing as hard as if she’d won the Olympic hundred metres.
‘What’s up? Are you OK?’
Lily dropped her backpack on the terrace. Her latest painting hadn’t been dry when she’d shoved it into her bag and dashed from the cottages. It would be ruined but she didn’t care. Her only object had been to get away from the place as fast as possible.
Sam climbed down the ladder and was by her side in an instant. ‘What’s happened?’
‘N–nothing. I was just a bit … s–spooked.’
‘What do you mean, “spooked”?’ He touched her arm, fleetingly, then added, ‘Take your time.’
She had no choice but to take her time, needing to steady her breathing and process what she’d seen. Or thought she’d seen. Her blood had run cold when the shadowy figure had appeared: but it was probably her imagination working overtime. After all, she had been thinking about Mabel at the time and had had a stressful few days.
‘I was painting the ruined cottages at Tean Porth,’ she said, feeling rather foolish now. ‘And it was probably a trick of the light, but I thought I saw someone inside one of them.’
Sam’s eyes widened. ‘Someone? Who?’ he said, adding more softly, ‘What did they look like?’
‘I couldn’t say. It was more of a shadow than a figure. Like I said, it could simply have been a trick of the light. It startled me, that’s all.’ Lily shrugged though she was still shaken. ‘Maybe I’ve had too much sun today,’ she joked.
Sam didn’t laugh. ‘Did you see any other signs of anyone hanging around? A boat on the beach maybe? Even a paddleboard?’
‘No, and I also had a quick look inside the cottage before I started painting. There was no one visible, though there was a trampled area up to the hearth.’
Sam nodded. ‘I went in there a week ago with Aaron to see if we could salvage any of the stones for the refurbishments. We didn’t see any signs of intruders.’
‘Then I must have been mistaken,’ Lily said breezily. ‘I’d been concentrating hard on painting and thinking about the old islanders at the time so perhaps I’d imagined a ghost.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Which it couldn’t possibly have been because they don’t exist.’
‘No, they don’t, and if there was someone there, it could only have been an intruder though I doubt anyone can be on the island now,’ he said reassuringly. ‘They can’t land at the jetty as it’s low tide. I suppose they could beach a boat at Tean Porth but you’d have to know the right spot, avoid the rocky reefs, watch the tides … and I can see almost the whole island from the roof here.’ He paused then said: ‘Could it be the press or some deranged vlogger?’
‘I doubt it. How would they get here?’ she asked.
‘Only with the help of an islander and I can’t think of any local skippers who would agree to help them land on Stark.’
‘And I’m already yesterday’s news. I don’t think a newspaper would spend that kind of cash to pursue me here. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t let myself get spooked. I probably need a lie down!’
Sam smiled. ‘Please don’t worry. I’ll take a good look round after dinner to check if I can spot anything amiss. Until then, lock your door if you don’t feel safe.’ He looked at her earnestly. ‘You are safe. I’m only seconds away in the flat and I can lend you the spare radio if that would give you peace of mind.’
‘You’re trusting me with a radio?’ She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise.
‘Yeah. In fact, I think it’s best if you keep hold of it so we can communicate wherever we are on the island. You can speak to base too.’
‘Base? You mean Elspeth or Morven.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ll be bothering them.’
‘It’ll be fine. Look, I’ve finished what I was doing. I’ll knock off for the day and start the prep for dinner.’
‘Sam, I think we’re going to have to share the cooking from now on. I don’t need three-course meals every night.’
‘You paid for decent food, not self-catering and waiting on the host!’
‘Sure, but that’s in an ideal world where you have a team of staff. Earlier, you agreed to take my advice. You need to recruit someone fast, but first, you need five functioning cottages. Let me help you achieve both those things. I can’t spend all my time drawing and shopping. It’s not me. After all, I am the Crafty Queen.’ She said it jokingly but then added, ‘Seriously, Sam, I did start my business because I like creating things. It would be great to spend some time cooking and getting my hands dirty so to speak.’
‘Well …’ She could see he was tempted. ‘If you think it would help you relax.’
‘Call it part of my therapy,’ she joked. ‘Or Project New Lily.’
He laughed out loud. ‘If you put it like that, how can I refuse?’
‘You can’t,’ she said firmly. ‘Though while we’re on the subject of fresh starts, can I make a suggestion?’
‘Go on.’ His eyes were wary.
‘I won’t be here to help forever and you need a business plan. Why don’t you put the cottages on a booking site and set yourself a deadline?’ she suggested. ‘How long do you think you’ll need to have the whole retreat ready for guests?’
‘Six weeks would do it.’
‘That means you’ll be able to launch properly in August and have September and October to let them out. Will you stay open through the winter?’
‘No. I’ll close in December and reopen end of February when spring arrives. Transport becomes tricky in the winter months. There are no sailings from Penzance and the flights can be affected by bad weather. I’ll also need to keep coming over here to make sure everything is maintained and safe. The winter storms can be fierce.’
Lily nodded in approval. ‘That sounds like a good plan. Your staff will need a break, and so will you. How many are you planning on recruiting?’
‘Initially, a chef and a housekeeper–manager.’
She considered for a moment. ‘Good in principle, but I do worry that a housekeeper–manager post will be way too much for one person, bearing in mind your staff will need time off.’
‘Hmm. You could be right. They’ll have to live in, of course. I can spend my nights at Hell Bay House and they can each have their own studio flat. Let me get freshened up and we can talk some more about it over dinner,’ he said.
‘Good, and I’ll cook tonight. I can do a mean mac ’n’ cheese. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds bloody amazing, frankly.’
His eyes lit up with a warmth and energy Lily hadn’t seen before, and she had an inkling his buoyant mood wasn’t entirely due to the mac ‘n’ cheese. Could it be because they were both finally feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sam had already been up and breakfasted when Lily sauntered into the dining room, still groggy from a long night’s sleep.
Last night he’d devoured two helpings of mac ’n’ cheese, and they’d firmed up some plans for finishing the cottages and recruiting staff. He’d then gone straight back to work until dusk while Lily had retired to her room.
She had sat out on her terrace until sunset, then she’d gone to bed and didn’t remember anything until she’d woken at eight. Eight! She’d almost fainted when she’d seen the time on her phone and then reminded herself that she was on holiday.
‘Sleep well?’ Sam asked, setting a cafetière on her table for one.
There was a twinkle in his eye that infuriated her – and that added to his charm. And how could she find cargo shorts, an ancient T-shirt and builder’s boots so sexy? Her last boyfriend – she couldn’t call him a ‘partner’ as neither of them had invested enough time in the relationship for that – had favoured designer jeans, loafers and a weekly trip to a Turkish barber.
In fact, she didn’t have much experience of romantic relationships at all. No amount of business acumen could help her navigate through the confusing feelings she’d been experiencing.
Once again, she thought of the obituary and the way the world had seen her. ‘Lily Harper was single …’ Those few words said so much. In her single-minded drive for success, she’d lost sight of the other things she wanted deep down: to find lasting love and, perhaps, have a family of her own one day.
‘Lily?’ Sam’s voice, gentle and calming, brought her back to the present.
‘I slept very well, thanks,’ she replied, pulling a hand-thrown mug towards her.
‘I’m sorry I shot off after dinner last night, but I needed to make the most of the daylight and thought you might like some time to yourself after the day you’d had.’
‘It was fine.’
His intense gaze made her twitchy. ‘You say “fine” a lot but yesterday must have been a hell of a shock, not to mention exhausting. The stuff that was being posted about you online was disgusting. What’s wrong with some people? Why don’t they focus on their own lives instead of dragging other people down?’
She gave a small smile. ‘If I knew that I’d be a trillionaire. I’d like to say they can’t have much in their own lives, but some of them seem to have it all: high-flying jobs, families. I’m sure they have mothers and partners and kids who’d be horrified to discover what their “amazing hubs” or “wonderful mum” was up to online.’
‘I’d be ashamed if someone I loved was spreading that bile.’
Lily shrugged. ‘I’ve had to stop trying to get inside their heads. I’ve had to let it go or it would have destroyed me. It nearly did …’ She sipped her coffee. ‘This is great. Where’s it from?’
‘A place near Land’s End. The owner, Eden, roasts it herself.’ He put a basket of croissants in front of her. ‘We can talk about what happened if you like? I’m aware that playing the strong, silent type isn’t the best way of approaching problems these days.’
Her heart did a flip. He sounded so earnest, so sincere, even though talking about her feelings must be the last thing he wanted to do.
‘It’s—’ She bit back the word fine. ‘What happened yesterday wasn’t “fine” and what the online trolls had to say did bother me, but not as much as that obituary. Not as much as the comment from Amelia who isn’t my friend, clearly. However, my team are dealing with the public stuff and I’ll just have to suck up the rest. I can’t let it derail me, otherwise the haters have won.’
