Second Chance Summer, page 15
‘Oh, yeah, I have no worries whatsoever!’ Sam snapped.
‘Maybe,’ Nate said smoothly, ‘it would be better if you had someone special in your own life so you understood the pressure I’m under. I have to think about Grady’s needs too, you know, as well as Morven’s.’
Sam exploded. ‘How the hell would I be able to have “someone special” in my life, Nate, when I’m already juggling a business and your daughter?’
‘Hey! Calm down! I didn’t mean to touch a raw nerve. I know Rhiannon hurt you badly. But she’s gone, Sam. Accept it. You need to move on and find someone new.’
With great difficulty, he reined in his temper. ‘I’ve work to do. I can’t waste time sitting in the sun drinking coffee. Just make your mind up about Morven before it’s too late.’
He ended the call, sitting back in his office chair in frustration. Perhaps he’d gone too far in implying Nate didn’t care about Morven, but drastic action was required. She needed her dad – and if Nate wasn’t coming back, God forbid, she needed to know so she could try to come to terms with it.
Sam also needed to come to terms with stepping in as her parent, if that’s what had to happen. He couldn’t keep leaving her with Elspeth, or making sure she was staying with trusted friends, as he’d had to over the past few weeks while he was working on the retreat. He hadn’t spent a night at home since Lily had arrived.
‘Was that Dad?’
Morven stood in the open French doors, her arms folded. He hadn’t seen her come in. That girl was like a ghost, and she had superhuman hearing. What had she heard?
‘Yes, it was.’
‘I don’t suppose he’s coming home?’
‘He’s making a decision very soon.’
She smirked. ‘’Course he is.’
‘He knows how important it is for you to be together. How important you are.’
‘Did he say that?’
Sam hesitated and decided to be honest. ‘He reminded me that he’s your father, not me.’
Perhaps thrown for a moment, Morven shook her head. ‘He needs to remind himself.’
Sam almost didn’t recognise Lily when he met her at the Hydra a little while later.
She was dressed in cargo pants and a hoodie, with a bucket hat on her head.
‘Hello!’ she said, lifting up two carrier bags. ‘I’ve been shopping!’
‘I can see that,’ he said, amused to see her in casual mode.
Her eyes were bright with excitement and seeing her so bubbly gave Sam an equal buzz. Along with his pleasure at seeing her smile, he also realised that he cared about her welfare perhaps more than he ought to, considering she was a guest.
On the way to Stark, she filled him in on her trip to the Scilly capital.
‘It was heaving. The boat over from Bryher was packed and that big boat was in port – the Scillonian. Half the passengers must have been milling around the streets.’
‘Some of them come for the day or hang around in town until they can get into their accommodation,’ he replied, amused to be seeing the little town through fresh eyes.
‘I managed to get a table outside a café at the back of the beach. Their salted caramel brownies are almost as good as Elspeth’s. And I found a place selling books.’ She showed him a bag from the Bourdeaux gift shop. ‘It’s been so long since I made time to read a novel. Though maybe I shouldn’t have chosen a crime thriller set on Scilly! Can you believe this one’s called Hell Bay?’
Sam smiled. He’d read the Kate Rhodes book himself, amused to find his home turned into a setting for violent crime and psychopathic killers. ‘It’s very good,’ he said. ‘I just hope it doesn’t make you want to board the first flight out …’
With a gleam in her eyes, Lily shot him a look that made him melt inside.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said silkily. ‘I can separate fact from fiction and I decided against heading for the airport!’
Just in time, Sam pulled back on the throttle and turned the boat away from a hidden reef he’d almost skimmed. Lily’s cheeks were tinged a soft pink by the sun and he loved – but wouldn’t dream of telling her – the freckles sprinkled across her nose. Elspeth would say his home cooking was doing his guest good too, but it was the easing of tension that made the most difference. Her body had relaxed, the dark smudges under her eyes had gone, along with the strained expression.
It was so tempting to try and get closer to her and find out about the real Lily.
Sam reminded himself that the first rule of hospitality should be: don’t get emotionally involved with the guests. After having his heart broken by Rhiannon, his first rule ought to be not to get involved with anyone, especially not someone from a different world who could only ever be passing through his life.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘Um … I’ve been invited to the pub.’
Lily was halfway up a ladder and about to reload her roller with Misty Morn emulsion when Sam made this apparently significant announcement to her.
That evening, over dinner, they’d had a discussion and he’d finally agreed she could help him finish Cottage Two – now known as Samphire. Cottages Three and Four – Starfish and Scallop – were also well on their way apart from bathroom tiling and painting.
‘Or should I say “we”?’ he added, carefully brushing paint above the skirting board and still not looking at her. ‘I met up with my mate Aaron earlier and he said the gig crew are at the Rock Inn tomorrow. He invited you to join us.’
‘He invited me? Are you sure? He doesn’t know me.’
She descended to floor level where Sam had risen from his knees.
‘He’s heard about you,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid everyone has but that’s not why he asked. He knew you were staying on the island and thought you might like to come. I did say you were here for peace and quiet but that I’d pass on the invite.’
Lily resisted the urge to tell him he had paint on his nose, or worse, to wet her finger and wipe it off. How could he look so gorgeous in a ripped T-shirt and paint-splattered shorts? Even the fragrance of turps on his top was sexy.
‘He probably thinks you wouldn’t leave me here, if I refused?’
‘No! Absolutely not. I mean … of course I wouldn’t leave you alone even though I’m sure you’d be fine.’ Sam was clearly tying himself in knots. ‘He was only being friendly. They’re like that, the rowing lot. I used to be in the crew until I got wrapped up in this place.’
‘I know the feeling,’ Lily said. ‘I used to meet up for dinner with a group of women from my Pilates class. I enjoyed it but that was over a year ago. After I was too busy to go along five times in a row, I stopped getting invites. I think they started a new WhatsApp group without me and I can hardly blame them.’ She sighed. ‘I need to get in touch again, make a commitment. When I get home.’
‘Why don’t you do it now?’ he said. ‘In just over a week you’ll be back in London.’
Why did he have to remind her of the precise timeframe? Lily was already thinking of how things would be when she went back, the hurtling around and lurching from one task to the next. For some reason, she felt jittery at the prospect.
‘Are you counting the days?’ she said lightly.
‘No. No, of course not,’ Sam said, then frowned. ‘You OK?’
‘Yes. Fine. Apart from the paint smell and all the crouching and climbing. It’s been ages since I got hot and sweaty outside of a gym.’
‘You look great to me,’ he said. ‘We’ve virtually finished the work,’ he added gruffly. ‘Come on, let’s have a break and some air.’
Lily washed her hands, still glowing from his compliment and even more amazed he’d made it, considering what stared back at her from the en suite mirror. She was wearing an oversized pair of decorator’s dungarees over a vest top, her hair tied up with a scrunchie. It was humid and she hadn’t looked so dishevelled for months.
Back outside, Sam stood on the terrace with two chilled bottles from the cottage fridge. The sun shone down half-heartedly through the haze, and the isles and islets seemed to lie becalmed in the glassy sea.
A drink of chilled water helped to cool her down. Samphire really was almost ready, its furniture already in the centre of the room, wrapped in dust sheets and plastic.
‘So, you’ll definitely be coming to the pub?’ Sam asked again, standing beside her.
‘As long as you’re sure your friends won’t mind, then I’d love to.’
His face lit up briefly. ‘Great. Of course they won’t mind … as long as you’re prepared for a bit of banter. I can’t guarantee much tact and diplomacy – especially from Aaron.’
Lily smiled. ‘Oh, I think I can deal with a bit of banter.’
Half an hour later, they’d finished the room. Sam left the doors and windows open and went to clean the trays and brushes while Lily had a quick shower. It was her turn to cook that evening and she was making poisson cru with salad and fries. The fish had been caught by Rory that morning and was already marinating in coconut milk. Cara and Étienne had taught her how to make the Polynesian speciality. It was almost the last recipe in Lily’s dwindling repertoire.
Rubbing her hair with a towel, she opened the French doors of her cottage to dry off in the late-afternoon sun.
‘Oh, God!’
Her heart thumped when she saw the message – sign – warning – that had been left on the bistro table.
Someone had carefully arranged beach pebbles into a word:
LEAVE
The hairs on her arms stood on end.
Unless there were some very clever seagulls around, those pebbles couldn’t possibly have found their way there accidentally.
She was ready to run across to Sam’s flat but stopped. He’d probably feel he should gallop to the rescue. He’d worry that Stark wasn’t secure or safe for her and he didn’t need that just when he was pushing on to finish the place.
She didn’t need anyone, least of all him, to take care of her. She’d lived in London for over a decade; she could handle a prankster … even a rogue reporter trying to scare up a story.
If it was a prankster, the message was hardly funny. Someone didn’t want her on the island or else wanted to create trouble.
Lily dismissed the notion and locked her door. Despite her bravado, she was rather relieved that she had been included in the pub excursion. She certainly didn’t fancy staying on Stark on her own.
Thursday’s plan was to eat at the Rock, rather than going back to Stark. She’d thought about taking along her sketch pad, to capture the view of Cromwell’s Castle over the channel between Bryher and Tresco. She decided she didn’t have time and anyway, she didn’t fancy focusing on the gibbet after yesterday’s unpleasant message.
After taking a photo of the pebbles on her phone, she’d gathered them up and thrown them onto the grass outside her room.
During the day, she threw herself into getting hot and sweaty again as she and Sam unpacked and rearranged furniture in Samphire before adding the small stock of artwork, lamps and cushions.
‘Morven’s artwork looks great in here. The cottage needs to be easy to clean and uncluttered, but it is still rather bare. I saw some lovely pieces in the galleries on St Mary’s and at Bryher post office. They’d be a good start. If you have the budget, of course.’
‘I have a small budget, yes,’ Sam said warily.
‘Then would it be OK if I did some shopping for you? I could order some pieces from Lily Loves but we should use local suppliers for preference. I promise I won’t go over budget.’
Finally, he smiled. ‘Oh, I know you won’t.’
Sam had a couple of errands at the dock so Lily found a quiet table outside the Quayside Café and put in a call to Richie via FaceTime.
‘Hello,’ she said, amused to see him lounging with a mug of coffee and looking very comfortable. ‘Is that my office chair?’
‘Yes, I didn’t think you’d mind me using your desktop.’
‘I don’t – have you adjusted my seat?’
‘Of course. I’m a foot taller than you. I promise I’ll set it up for you before you get back, hun.’
‘Make sure you do,’ Lily said then smiled. ‘I’m joking. How’s it going?’
‘OK. Fine. I’ve set up a meeting with that indie gift shop chain. I know you weren’t sure they were the right home for the brand but they seem so keen. And the owner is such a sweetheart. She’s got a gorgeous cockapoo just like Jakob’s. I’ve seen it on their Insta feed. That’s why the business is called Cockahoop,’ Richie explained.
Lily was about to comment that just because someone was a sweetheart and had a gorgeous dog, it didn’t necessarily make them a good business partner, but stopped herself. Richie’s eyes were lit by a zeal that was firing ideas in her brain.
She’d been wrestling with her misgivings about the supermarket deal all morning. Cockahoop was a fraction of the size but might – just might – be a much better fit with the cosiness of her brand. Perhaps Richie’s instincts were more on the money than she’d thought.
‘Are you cross that I said we’d meet them?’ he said anxiously.
‘No, I’m not,’ Lily said, thinking that she could never be cross with a generous soul like him. ‘It can’t do any harm. I didn’t know she’d named the business after her dog. I like it …’
‘So, you want me to delay the Cockahoop meeting until you come back?’ he asked.
‘Why don’t you take it? You can handle it, can’t you?’
‘Well, yes, but …’
‘But what?’
‘Nothing. Only normally you like to be on top of every detail.’
‘Richie, I’m supposed to be on holiday – a holiday that you practically forced me to take.’ She added with a smile, ‘I’m joking again, though as we’re discussing the issue, you’ve handled everything that’s come your way perfectly well. As you seem to have a rapport with Cockahoop, I think you should call them and set up an initial meeting. Now, you go home to Jakob. I’m off to the pub.’
His jaw dropped before he said, ‘Off to the pub? At five p.m.?’
‘Yes. For fish and chips and a night out with a hunky rowing crew. You’d love it,’ she added mischievously.
‘Too right I would!’ he exclaimed, then added, ‘If I wasn’t in a very meaningful relationship already, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘Try to send photos though …’ Richie’s voice had a hopeful lilt.
Lily cut the FaceTime, enjoying the open-mouthed amazement of her PA a little too much. Her stay had shown her that the world wouldn’t end without her – that for a while, at least, her team could handle things better than she’d dared to hope.
While she was delighted and relieved to see how well they were doing, she couldn’t help but wish she’d trusted them enough to delegate more in the past. She might not have missed quite so much of her own life if she had.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Rock had the best location of any pub anywhere on the entire planet, Lily decided as she approached it from the direction of the Quayside Café.
Situated on the channel that separated Bryher from Tresco, it stood on the edge of the white sand beach. On this balmy June evening, the granite inn was bustling with locals and holidaymakers. It was also fish and chip night and a ‘supper boat’ had arrived from Tresco especially for the occasion, making it even busier.
Sam waved at Lily from outside the pub where the crew had gathered around an outside table. Even from a way off, she could sense their closeness, laughter ringing out and people slapping each other on the back.
Her stomach knotted and her courage faltered. She was used to meeting strangers in her job but these were people who might only know her via her TV or online reputation. Those harsh comments online could have given them a pretty awful view of her, one that might be hard to overcome. What if they were expecting the ruthless witch some people had painted her as?
She stiffened her spine. There was nothing she could do but be herself: her real self. Pasting on a smile, she walked on and met Sam a few yards from the table. Despite what she’d told Richie about them being hunky, the rowing crew comprised a mix of men and women, all tanned and strong of arm but of various shapes and sizes.
‘This is Lily, guys,’ Sam said chirpily. Too chirpily?
‘Hi,’ Lily said, grinning fit to burst while feeling like a specimen under the microscope.
Sam introduced the gang to her, accompanied by banter and laughter.
Even though she was used to remembering faces and names, Lily was so nervous the new information flashed by in a blur.
Fergal: Irish, ginger and drinking a lurid cocktail. Penny: smiley, blonde bob, sixty-plus? Suman: tiny – how did she row miles in Atlantic swells? A married couple called Ivanka and Mike who ran the post office stores and wore matching bandanas. Bruce – not his real name, according to Fergal – who knew? – but an Aussie so he was now stuck with it. Several others …
She’d smiled and laughed during the introductions, aware she must not try too hard to dispel any image they might have formed of her from the press.
‘And this is Aaron,’ Sam said finally with an eye roll.
Aaron was a man mountain with a bushy beard. He raised his pint glass to Lily and met her with a head-on gaze as if he was facing off to her in a scrum. He was smiling yet Lily was slightly shaken by his direct scrutiny.
‘Great to meet you,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Everyone’s heard far too much about me,’ she quipped.
To her relief the crew were all polite enough to laugh.
‘I meant from Sam,’ Aaron said.
‘Ignore him,’ Sam said, squeezing into the space next to his friend so that Lily could have the end of the bench. ‘Though that may be quite difficult.’
Aaron roared and didn’t seem the least bit offended. ‘It’s good to meet you, Lily,’ he said.
‘Likewise,’ she said lightly, while realising just how under the microscope she still was.
