Second Chance Summer, page 14
She selected a pastry from the basket, feeling the need to curtail any deep conversation in case she let her emotions get the better of her yet again. ‘Thanks for your concern. I’m looking forward to my break here and to starting again. And I think I’ll begin with this delicious-looking croissant.’ She smiled, making light of the situation, but it was just moments before she was deep in thought again.
Starting again … Starting what again? She’d said she didn’t want the experience to derail her, and yet she couldn’t get the comments out of her mind.
Driven, ruthless, cut-throat … the world doesn’t see the real Lily.
It didn’t really matter how other people saw her. It was how she saw herself.
The world had given its verdict on her and she hadn’t liked it much, but did she want to change it? Wouldn’t that be playing into the hands of the people who’d judged her?
Surely she must follow her own path – and hopefully, over the next couple of weeks, she could find out where that might lead her.
‘So, what’s it to be then?’
Resplendent in a lilac-and-orange kaftan, Elspeth opened her order pad at Lily’s table at the Quayside Café. ‘Coffee? Cake? A full Scilly breakfast?’
Lily laughed. ‘I’ve already had a great breakfast on Stark. Sam seems determined to feed me up, but I could squeeze in one of your wonderful brownies. And a mocha if you do them?’
‘Of course we do mochas,’ Elspeth said with pride. ‘And I baked a fresh batch of brownies this morning so you’re in luck. All coming right up.’
‘Thank you,’ Lily said.
Elspeth bustled off as four young people arrived for breakfast. From the conversation, she gathered they were students staying at the campsite. Each island had its own passenger boat, and there were more that plied their way from St Mary’s. However, it was too early for the tourist ferries so the quay was busy with islanders loading up their own vessels.
Lily felt privileged to be there with them. There could only be a few dozen people staying overnight at the single hotel, bed and breakfast and handful of holiday homes. A sprinkling of holidaymakers were out for early strolls or dog walks but apart from that, the shores were deserted. The sands sparkled in the morning sun and the rocks glistened with green weed.
The tide was still going out leaving the shore washed fresh – the slate wiped clean, just like her life after her near drowning.
She was finding it almost impossible not to peek at the messages on social media about her ‘death’ and had to keep reminding herself that her team were dealing with those. Part of Project New Lily involved not constantly trawling through social media and being kind to herself, as much as to the people around her.
Shortly afterwards, Elspeth returned with a steaming mug topped with cream and marshmallows and a large slice of brownie. Although the June sun was warm, the breeze was fresh and Lily was glad of the fleece Sam had loaned her because her blazer and thin cotton sweater weren’t warm enough.
It swamped her but she was grateful for it until she could go over to St Mary’s for some more suitable clothes to withstand the vagaries of the Atlantic weather.
‘Here you go. I didn’t know if you wanted the works on the mocha so I added them anyway. You can scoop it all off if not,’ Elspeth said.
‘I haven’t had the works for as long as I can remember. My nieces would love this,’ she said, hoping Étienne would somehow be able to bring them over for a visit, if not during her stay then at a later date. She admired the low whitewashed building with its blue-painted woodwork, perfectly at home in its island setting. ‘Your café is so lovely.’
‘Thank you. It used to be a boat house but was extended and converted into two cottages. Twenty years ago, a family turned part of it into a café.’
‘How long have you had it?’ Lily asked. ‘I don’t mean to keep you from your work,’ she added hastily.
Elspeth sat down at the table. ‘I can spare a couple of minutes before the first ferry arrives. My assistant Barney can hold the fort for now. I took over the café after I split from my husband five years ago,’ she said. ‘I was only sixty-two and I needed to make some money. I’d always wanted a café but Him Indoors was never keen on me having my own job – or life. I think he wanted to keep my nose to the grindstone doing his accounts.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Instead, I left him, took on this place, and we’re doing well.’
Lily’s admiration for Elspeth grew. She might believe in folklore but she was also a practical businesswoman in tune with her customers. ‘I hope he’s seen how successful you’ve been.’
‘Oh, he has. He’s even tried to inveigle his way into my life again but I’m having none of it. This is my place now and I love it!’
Lily breathed in the clear air. ‘The view is incredible.’
From her elevated position, she could see right across the sparkling channel that separated Bryher from Tresco, with its neat holiday cottages and gallery. To her left was Bryher’s only pub and – less encouragingly – a large rock with a gibbet-like structure on the top.
Elspeth must have seen her shudder. ‘Is that a real – er – scaffold?’ Lily said.
Elspeth laughed. ‘No, it’s only a replica. Someone’s little joke, not that I find it so funny. Some say that there was a real gallows up there during the Civil War. That’s Cromwell’s Castle opposite,’ Elspeth said, pointing out the round turret perched on a rocky outcrop on the Tresco side of the channel. ‘Some people say it was built to imprison mutinous sailors. Others joke it’s for tourists who outstay their welcome.’
Lily gave a mock gasp.
‘Present company excepted, of course.’ Elspeth’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Lily said. ‘From what I’m reading online, there are plenty of people calling for me to come to a sticky end. It feels like being put in the stocks while the angry populace throws rotten veg at me.’
‘It must have been horrible but it will pass,’ Elspeth said, patting her on the arm. ‘And this is the best place for you to hide away.’
‘Even Stark? I thought you were against Sam opening up the retreat?’
‘I am. I asked him not to. I was worried no good would come of it.’
‘And now you’ve been proved right?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. You and he survived, didn’t you? No matter what I think about Stark being left undisturbed, I would never want my nephew’s business to fail – or anything worse to happen. I’m relieved you both came out of the sea alive. Perhaps the experience will make him think twice.’
‘You really believe the island is haunted?’
‘I believe there’s a dimension of our existence that defies physical proof – so far. In other words, I like to hedge my bets when it comes to the supernatural!’ Elspeth’s smile faded. ‘The main reason I’m worried about Sam taking on the renovation is because he’s had so much on his plate lately. He’s still a partner in the building company, he has Morven to deal with and he’s never been the same since Rhiannon left.’
Lily breathed in sharply. ‘Rhiannon?’
‘His fiancée. Ex-fiancée. She used to be a district nurse on the islands. The family used to live on Bryher and her cousin still does … Rhiannon and Sam were very close, but she’s been gone eighteen months.’
‘Oh …’ Lily floundered. ‘I – er – didn’t know that,’ she said, trying to sound casual while her mind raced. So, Sam was nursing a shattered heart from a broken engagement with a local woman. That explained a lot … the moodiness, the hint of sadness beneath the stoic exterior.
‘He likes to keep his private life private,’ Elspeth said.
No wonder he found it difficult to play the cheery host if he was still getting over a relationship – getting over the woman he was going to marry, Lily thought. That night when she’d seen him staring out to sea: was he hoping that Rhiannon would come back?
She was about to try and find out more when Elspeth rose from the table.
‘I should stop gossiping. Things are going to get manic round here any time now.’
‘Do they ever get manic on Bryher?’ Lily joked, but then noticed the tables around her filling up rapidly. People were bagging seats, browsing menus and filing into the café.
‘When the first tourist boat arrives, it’s like a pack of seagulls fighting over a chip wrapper, but I like to be busy. My bank balance needs it!’
Elspeth moved to a nearby table, taking an order for breakfast from six people with walking poles and rucksacks.
Lily finished her mocha and wrapped half the brownie in a serviette to enjoy later.
It felt odd to see Elspeth and her team buzzing around her, serving customers, while she simply sat and enjoyed the view. She thought of her team working away in London … should she check in?
No. She had to resist the urge. Richie would call or message if there was anything urgent. Instead, she took a selfie on the quayside and sent it to her parents and Étienne, to show them she was fine and could now communicate with them when she wasn’t on Stark.
A few hours later, Lily returned to the café, having explored the island of Bryher. She’d watched the waves crashing against the rugged northern cliffs and sat in the sun on the white sands of Rushy Bay. She’d also called in at the post office and gallery, buying several postcards and two cute ceramic baby seals for Amelie and Tania.
She wrote her cards while eating some of Elspeth’s fresh fish tacos, which were worthy of a five-star review. A couple with two Labradors had chatted to her and Lily had managed to smile when one of the dogs licked her hand enthusiastically.
She’d always been a little afraid of dogs after an incident when a large and snarling one had trapped her inside some public toilets in the local park as a child. Her parents had had cats, all of whom she’d loved, and the twins were always trying to choose guinea pigs and kittens for her from rescue sites.
Lily was far too busy to keep a pet in her London flat, even if she’d been allowed.
When the Labradors left, she went inside for an espresso, admiring the artwork on the walls. Some of it, though unsigned, bore Morven’s poignant stamp while other works had the artists’ names on them.
Lily waited for her coffee at the counter and spoke to Barney, a pink-haired Kiwi on a gap year.
‘Who made the cutlery holders?’ she said, pointing to the ceramic pots full of serviette-wrapped cutlery. They’d been glazed in deep green and teal and bore an impression of seaweed fronds.
‘Mate of Morven’s, I think.’ Barney handed over her drink, an expression like a gloomy bloodhound’s on his face. ‘Damien? No. Damon. I always get confused with that kid in The Omen – the one who’s the son of Satan.’
Lily bit her lip to avoid spluttering with laughter. ‘Thanks, Barney,’ she said, leaving a tip before heading back out into the sun.
When she sat down, she saw Morven on the opposite side of the terrace, deep in conversation with a tall, slender, very beautiful young man of around her age. He had the brooding, angsty looks that were scouted by modelling agencies in London. That was unlikely to happen here on Bryher. But in any case, he and Morven looked thick as thieves, as her mum might say.
Lily wondered if the teenager was Morven’s friend Damon who’d made the pots for the resort. If so, he was very talented. Should Lily tell him?
Before she could even think about getting up to do so, Morven spotted her and scowled before pulling her friend by the elbow and leading him away from the café, as if Lily had the plague and he might catch it.
She sighed behind her espresso cup. Part of Project New Lily included a vow to be kinder to her fellow men, but it was proving to be more difficult with some people than others. And after what she’d heard about Sam and the mysterious Rhiannon, perhaps she needed to be more understanding of him.
Rhiannon must be quite a woman to leave him broken after all this time.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The following day, while Sam had arranged to meet up with his business partner Aaron for lunch in the pub on Tresco, Lily had gone for a day out in ‘the metropolis’ as she called Hugh Town, the small capital of St Mary’s.
To Sam’s great relief there had been no further accidents or incidents on Stark and he was beginning to think that they would both get through the rest of her stay unscathed.
He and Aaron had just demolished two large ham sandwiches and his friend took an appreciative sip of his second pint.
Sam hid a smile at the sight of flecks of foam in his friend’s beard. He didn’t give a toss about appearances. His mate was a ‘unit’, with archetypal sea captain looks that he cultivated with relish. He and Sam had been to school together and rowed in the Bryher gig crew until Sam had embarked on the renovations.
After chatting about boats and work and rugby, Aaron asked if there was any sign of Nate coming back.
‘Not at the moment,’ Sam said, having wondered the same thing several times a day recently. Perhaps his friend had asked to meet him precisely to give him a chance to talk about this.
Aaron nodded thoughtfully. ‘How’s Morven coping?’
‘She’s not, if I’m honest. She feels abandoned and I don’t blame her.’
‘Nate needs to step up – if you don’t mind me giving my opinion.’
‘He does and I don’t.’
‘Know what you need, mate? You need a break. A bunch of us are meeting up at the Rock Inn after rowing practice tomorrow. You should come.’
‘If only … I’m on host duties.’
‘For this woman who was in the papers? The dead one,’ Aaron chortled. ‘She can manage alone on the island for one evening, can’t she?’
‘Hmm …’
‘Or you could invite her along?’
Sam laughed out loud, drawing raised eyebrows from his friend who remarked: ‘What’s up? Not her scene?’
‘I doubt it. I don’t know … I really can’t leave a guest on her own.’ He thought of Lily’s encounter with the ‘shadow’. Though it was tempting to dismiss it – whatever it was – as her being understandably on edge, Sam wasn’t going to fall into that trap. Lily didn’t strike him as the sort of person to mistake the evidence of her own eyes, and it was – just about – possible that someone had landed on Stark without his knowledge.
‘She’s had a crap time lately and, between you and me, that kayaking incident was a far closer shave than is being made out.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. Don’t let on to anyone because there’s been enough drama around it but I thought we were both goners.’
Sam relayed the details of the accident to Aaron, who blew out a long breath.
‘Jesus, I’d no idea it was that close.’
‘It was, and it was Lily’s decision to play it down in public. She doesn’t need any more press attention and, if I’m being honest, I don’t need the retreat to acquire a bad reputation. Not now it’s almost up and running.’
‘That sounds positive. How’s it going?’
‘Cottage two is virtually ready, bar a bit of decorating.’ Sam held back the fact that Lily had offered to help with that. ‘Cottages three and four are watertight and need more work inside.’
‘Hmm. Do you want me to come and lend a hand? Help you with the heavy work, do some painting?’
‘You must be too busy.’
Aaron grinned. ‘Always, but I can spare the time especially on these light nights. I haven’t forgotten how you helped me out in that storm. Me and the kids would have been sleeping under the stars if you hadn’t spent days rebuilding the place with me.’
‘You don’t owe me anything,’ Sam insisted.
‘I know that, but I want to help. I might round up a couple of the crew too. Danny the decorator owes me a big favour.’
He slapped Sam’s back, causing his Coke to spill over the table and make it even stickier. ‘Come to the Rock. Bring this Lily. I’m sure we can handle her. The question is, can she handle us?’
‘Believe me, Lily could handle anyone,’ Sam said, feeling a smile creeping onto his lips.
Aaron’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, really? Impressed you, has she? She sounds like quite a woman. I haven’t seen you take an interest in the female species since Rhiannon.’
‘Lily’s a guest,’ Sam countered, alarmed that he’d revealed too much. ‘It’s my job to take an interest.’
Too late. Aaron had scented blood. ‘Whatever you say, mate,’ he said, picking up his glass with a knowing smirk. ‘Whatever you say.’
After lunch, Sam zoomed back to Bryher and drove to Hell Bay House where he’d arranged to FaceTime Nate.
Ten minutes into the conversation, he was ready to hurl the laptop across the room. It was early-morning in California, mid-afternoon at Hell Bay House. Nate was sitting by the pool in a pink shirt, his Aviators pushed back on his gelled hair, an espresso cup on the table. They’d waited until Morven was out visiting friends so they could have a frank conversation.
‘Nate, if you are going to take this new contract, you need to decide ASAP. Morven needs you. You can’t leave her in permanent limbo. It’s bad for her self-esteem, and it’s affecting her mental health.’
‘Don’t I bloody know that! She won’t even talk to me,’ his brother complained.
‘Only because she feels that you won’t listen to her and don’t care!’
‘That’s out of order, Sam! Of course I care. I love her. She is my daughter after all.’
‘Then start bloody acting like a father to her!’
Nate’s eyes narrowed and his lip curled. Sam knew he’d hit the rawest of nerves.
‘I’ll let you – and my daughter – have my decision as soon as I possibly can, but it’s not as simple as you might think, from your cosy little backwater. What I decide affects more than just my future. Be glad you’ve only yourself to think about.’
