Chapter Five
Now
‘G eorgie.’ It was Sarah who strode down the front path to greet me. ‘It’s so lovely to see you.’
She was even more polished close up, with thick, groomed eyebrows and the sort of sheer makeup that looked effortless, a brush of subtle shimmer on her cheekbones.
Her dark eyes were twinkling – her colouring was a few shades darker than her brother’s – and I was caught off guard by her warm smile and outstretched hand.
‘Sarah,’ I said. ‘I didn’t … how are you?’
‘I’m thriving, actually – thank you. Working for Ethan now, as you can see.’ She gestured behind her, her laugh soft and melodic. I’d hardly heard her laugh at all when we were teenagers. ‘I’m so proud of everything he’s achieved.’
‘It’s a magnificent house.’
‘Wait until you see inside.’ There was a moment’s pause, then she said, ‘How are you , Georgie?’ Her eyes swept over me, from my gold sandals up over my dress, to my flushed face and my hair, which I knew had lost to hers in the battle of the ponytails.
‘I’m great!’ I was stuck in perky, fake enthusiasm.
‘I’m really, really good. Excited to be covering this for the North Cornwall Star , even more so now I know …
’ That my ex is the architect? That he’s here right now?
Was that exciting? ‘Now I know Ethan’s transformed it.
He was always going to achieve his dreams.’
‘That was never in doubt,’ Sarah agreed.
I blinked. This whole situation was surreal, standing with her on the path of the real life Tyller Klos, exchanging pleasantries.
She and the house had both had a huge impact on my life, and both had changed so much.
I tried to regain some footing. ‘It’s going to be a great piece.
There’s already so much history here – it’s like a fairy-tale reinvention, especially as Ethan got to know the house when it was empty. ’
‘All your trespassing,’ Sarah said with a smirk. ‘And I thought he was on his best behaviour back then, that I was the only one running amok.’
She said it so nonchalantly, I felt a white-hot flash of anger. Did she really not realize what it had cost everyone? I silently repeated my list of tasks so that I didn’t say anything I shouldn’t, but then I realized that Ethan was coming to join us.
‘Quite a reunion for you two.’ Sarah’s expression was carefully neutral.
‘Yeah.’ I couldn’t give her anything more, my heart climbing higher in my throat as if Ethan’s measured steps towards us were pulling it out of me.
He looked good. He had filled out in all the right places, his limbs no longer slightly too long for his body.
He was a few inches taller than me, and I remembered that when he used to hug me, my head had fitted perfectly under his chin.
A bead of sweat slid down my temple. I couldn’t do this. It was too hard; too much. It was—
‘Georgie.’ He stopped a couple of feet in front of me. He sounded calm, as if this was exactly what he’d been expecting, but I could see a muscle jumping in his jaw and knew the relaxed persona was an effort. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘Is it?’ I asked, which wasn’t the best start.
‘It’s been a long time.’
He was going for easy-breezy and noncommittal. OK, I could do that. ‘Thirteen years. Almost exactly.’ Shit. That was not easy-breezy. I could feel Sarah staring at the side of my face, and I wondered if she could see right through me.
‘Are you here for the open house?’ Ethan asked.
‘No, I was taking a stroll up the hill and the gates were open, so I thought I’d come and see how much of Tyller Klos was left.
’ His eyes widened a fraction in shock, then he was back to calm.
It was a shitty thing to say. Spence hadn’t once bemoaned the renovation, and it was either this restored, glorious building or it would have eventually fallen down, nothing more than rubble on the clifftop, ready to be swept away.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m here for the open house. ’
I saw a tiny flash of amusement, the smallest quirk of his mouth. ‘You’re covering it for the Star ?’
‘You know I work for the Star ?’
‘My brother knows everything,’ Sarah said with a smile.
‘Can you go and check the champagne’s cold enough please, Sarah?
’ Ethan asked, and there was a moment when they glared at each other, but then Sarah nodded and spun on her heels.
She strode up to the house, glancing over her shoulder once.
I heard a car crunch on the gravel, someone who must have been directed by Aldo round to the side of the house.
‘Hey,’ Ethan said, when his sister was out of earshot. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, and his voice was softer, as if he wanted to start again.
‘Hey.’ My throat felt thick, and I decided it was the oppressive weather and the pollen in the air. ‘You know I work for the Star ,’ I repeated.
‘I liked your piece about the dairy cows escaping. “Udder Chaos in Alperwick”.’
Shame washed over me. Hard-hitting investigative journalist, I was not. ‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘I’m not sure I milked it enough.’ I saw the smile light his eyes, but he didn’t give into it. ‘I didn’t know you had done this.’ I gestured past him.
‘I wanted to keep it low profile. Until it was done, anyway.’
‘And now, glitzy open house with champagne?’
He glanced towards Sterenlenn, and I watched as an elegantly dressed couple, the woman wearing a floral dress and sky-high heels in buttercup yellow, walked from the secluded drive towards the front door. ‘That was Sarah’s idea.’
‘I was surprised to see her here,’ I admitted.
‘She’s an important part of the business.’ Ethan’s defensive tone took me straight back to being eighteen. ‘She’s changed so much since you last saw her.’
‘Of course,’ I said, because what was the point in dredging up old arguments? ‘And you’re well, are you?’
‘I am, thanks. What about you? Are you doing OK?’
‘Oh, I’m great!’ I tried to picture the most recent woman he’d shown off on Instagram. Did he have a girlfriend here tonight? A wife? I shouldn’t care. ‘Everything’s fine and dandy here in Alperwick.’
Ethan frowned. ‘Are you—?’
‘The house is beautiful. Sterenlenn . A blanket of stars.’
He pressed his lips together. ‘Georgie, I—’
‘I was saying to Sarah that it’s going to be a great piece for the paper.
Huge local interest because everyone’s so nosy, and a whole lot of history because of the Cornish Sands series, and because you knew it when you were younger.
You obviously set your sights on it as a project a while ago. I’m glad it’s all working out so well.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to see how this evening goes first.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be a success.’
The silence between us was punctuated by the wind picking up, loose bits of gravel skittering over the driveway.
‘I didn’t know if you’d be here,’ Ethan said eventually. ‘I thought, maybe, but … I also thought you might stay away.’
‘I wish,’ I muttered, but there was a traitorous part of me that was rejoicing at seeing him again, at my game of spot the difference: what was the same about him, and what had changed. I could play it for hours.
‘I need to go inside,’ he said, as two men in the hot weather skeletons of business suits strolled past us, one of them jostling against me, as if I was taking up too much space. Ethan wrapped his hand gently around my arm and pulled me to the side of the path. ‘I need to greet people.’
‘Of course. You’re the architect, after all. And congratulations – I should have said that first. It’s what you always wanted, and I … I’m really happy for you.’
‘Thanks.’ He nodded. ‘And Georgie?’ He took a step closer.
‘Yes?’
‘There he is!’ Sarah’s singsong cut through the humid air, and Ethan closed his eyes briefly. ‘Ethan, Mr Jasper is keen to hear all about Sterenlenn. The champagne’s waiting for you, chilled as requested.’
‘I have to go.’ He looked down at me. ‘Come and find me later. I’d love to know what you think.’
‘I can’t wait to see it.’ I let him stride ahead of me, so he could reach Sarah and all the people he needed to glad-hand. I wondered if he was feeling as shaken by our reunion as I was.
Then I saw him pat the back pocket of his trousers, and I was there again, at our first meeting, when I’d searched for my phone in his jeans.
But I knew that gesture meant he was nervous, because at eighteen he’d been a smoker – a small rebellion against his overbearing father, one of the things that had surprised me about him.
We were only together for a few months, and I’d quickly convinced him to stop, so then the action – looking for his lighter in his back pocket – became something he did when he was anxious: reaching for the mood calmer that was no longer there.
Or maybe he smoked again now? It had been thirteen years, and I didn’t know him any more.
One, take photos, two, ask questions, three, have a nosy in all the rooms, four, find what you need to and get out.
I repeated it as I walked up to the house, joining the other guests gravitating towards the porch, with its spotlights and glass panels either side of the open door, the scents of vanilla and mandarin wafting out to greet us, a slice of gleaming pine floorboard visible in the entrance.
There was an elaborate-looking panel next to the front door, a digital screen above a keypad, showing the date and time: Friday 20 June 2025, 4:48 p.m.; the conditions: 25 degrees Celsius and 60 per cent humidity ; and the status of the house: Front door unlocked and open .
This must be part of the Sparks automated system, I realised, and I had a sudden, fatalistic urge to press some random buttons and see what would happen; anything to relieve the tension that had crawled inside me.
I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath.
I was a reporter, I needed to shake hands and seem interested, drink a glass of champagne and be enthusiastic about taking photographs.
I could do this in my sleep, if I put everything else to the back of my mind.
I stepped over the threshold, into the most magnificent house I’d ever seen.