Chapter Seventeen
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.’
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.