Chapter 6
Robin was busy driving when a call from Jack came through the car’s Bluetooth.
‘Bunty’s sold one of the cottages,’ he stated flatly, making Robin sit up sharply.
‘What?’ he spat out.
‘There’s a Sold sign put up outside it,’ Jack replied dully.
‘Which one?’
‘The right-hand one.’
Typical, thought Robin, the cottage with the best view of the bay. Given a choice, he’d have chosen the very same. Actually, given the choice, he’d have bought them both.
‘Right,’ he sighed, ‘well, there’s nothing we can do about it.’
There was a slight pause before Jack spoke. ‘Do you think we should both go and talk to her?’
‘Not much point now, mate. She’s sold it and that’s that.’ But who to, he couldn’t help but wonder. Jack was obviously thinking along the same lines.
‘It’d be interesting to know who’s bought it, though,’ he said.
‘Hmm, it would,’ Robin agreed, eyes narrowing. Maybe he’d pay Bunty another visit after all. Would it be cheeky to ask how much she’d sold it for? Of course it would, he reasoned – and no doubt rankle Bunty into the bargain. The last thing he wanted was a disgruntled Bunty to deal with. Not if he fancied his chances of still buying the remaining cottage.
After the call to Jack, he changed direction and drove up the coastal path, as if needing confirmation from his very own eyes. Within a few minutes, he had it. Robin sighed again at seeing the Sold sign standing purposely in the front garden. He ran his hand through his dark curls in irritation. For the hundredth time, he asked why. Why had Bunty done this?
With an air of impatience, he turned the car round and headed for the peninsula road to Bunty’s house. A glance at his watch told him it was ten thirty a.m. – at least it was low tide and he wouldn’t be rushed off this time.
Bunty saw Robin’s Range Rover park up outside on the drive and smirked, having fully expected him to put in an appearance sooner rather than later. She knew the Sold sign would spark a reaction.
Even Bunty had been a touch surprised at how swiftly Jasmine Boyd had negotiated and dealt with the purchase of the cottage. Mrs Boyd was clearly a lady who knew her own mind; a woman after her own heart, thought Bunty with contentment.
Opening the front door, she gave Robin one of her most winning smiles.
‘Robin, do come in.’ She swept the door wide open.
He stepped inside and turned to her, taking in the large, hooped earrings and bright red lipstick. Unusually, her grey hair was loose, running wild.
‘Bunty, you know perfectly well why I’m here,’ Robin started, getting straight to the point.
‘I do.’
Robin waited for her to elaborate, but nothing was forthcoming.
‘Why, Bunty?’ His expression showed genuine confusion. It simply didn’t make sense to him, why Bunty wouldn’t let him buy both her cottages in the first place.
‘Robin, it’s just bricks and mortar we’re talking about!’ she exclaimed in exasperation. Truth be told, she hated seeing him look this way, however convinced she was that her actions were for his own good.
‘I don’t get it,’ he frowned, further adding to her discomfort.
‘Oh Robin, let’s talk, darling.’ Bunty’s voice was soft and assuring. She tipped her head towards the drawing room door. ‘Come on, let’s have a drink.’
She led them into the spacious room, blazing with sunshine through the large, south-facing bow window. She made her way to the mirrored drinks cabinet and rustled up huge glasses of gin and tonic; her favourite tipple, so refreshing, no matter what time of day it was. Bunty prided herself on always having fresh cucumber, neatly sliced to accompany them, stored in the mini fridge with lots of ice in the small freezer compartment.
‘There you go, darling.’ She passed Robin his drink and sat down in the armchair opposite him. ‘Now don’t be cross with me for selling one of the cottages,’ she began, leaning forward in her earnestness. ‘In time, I’m sure, you’ll thank me.’
‘Will I?’ Robin replied in a deadpan voice.
‘Yes, there’s method to my madness, you see,’ Bunty tried to explain. ‘The lady who’s bought the cottage is a Mrs Jasmine Boyd.’ She looked expectantly at him.
‘And…?’
‘Doesn’t that name ring a bell?’ Bunty pushed.
‘Should it?’ he replied, frowning.
‘Her poor husband was killed in a hit-and-run car accident, it was all over the papers,’ she told him. For now she knew for certain it was indeed the Mrs Boyd she’d suspected, the estate agents had confirmed it.
‘Right…’ said Robin, a touch confused where this was going.
‘Well, I wanted to help the girl, she was very taken with the cottage and…’ Bunty paused.
‘What?’ Robin asked, taking a large gulp of his gin and tonic.
‘I think you’d make a good couple,’ she finished assertively, making Robin splutter on his drink.
‘What?!’ His eyes widened in disbelief.
‘It makes perfect sense to me,’ Bunty told him calmly. ‘You buy the other cottage, become neighbours and see what happens.’ Her hands spread out, like it was all so simple.
Robin blinked. Bunty’s matter-of-fact tone made it all the more incredulous. She could have been telling him the weather forecast, not matchmaking him with a woman he’d never set eyes on. Unbelievable.
‘So,’ he sat forward, ‘let me get this straight. You deliberately sold one of the cottages to a vulnerable, young widow, with the intention of lining her up for me?’
‘In a nutshell, yes. Obviously, you won’t want to rush things—’
‘Hell no, that would just be madness, wouldn’t it?’ Robin cut in sarcastically.
‘Yes, it would,’ agreed Bunty, ignoring the jibe. ‘This will need sensitive handling.’
Robin let out an incensed yelp. ‘And supposing I don’t want to buy the other cottage now?’ He looked defiantly at her, one eyebrow raised.
‘But you do, darling,’ she chuckled, eyes twinkling.
The old bird was enjoying this, thought Robin furiously. How dare she play with people’s lives like this? The way she was acting beggared belief.
‘You’ve gone too far this time Bunty,’ he stated, then took another gulp from his glass.
‘What’s wrong with wanting to help two people who I believe will be good for each other?’ she asked innocently.
She still didn’t get it. Robin took a deep breath.
‘Bunty, what makes you think me and this…’
‘Jasmine,’ chipped in Bunty.
‘Me and this Jasmine will be good for each other?’ he asked, trying to reason with her. She was right, he did still dearly want to buy the remaining cottage.
‘I feel it.’ Bunty knocked her fist against her chest with conviction, causing Robin to roll his eyes. He had an urge to tell Bunty to cut the dramatics but knew full well it was futile. Bunty was an eccentric, deluded old dear, whose intentions might be honourable, but no less outrageous. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sell for the same price Jasmine paid for her cottage.’
Robin’s stare narrowed in interest.
‘Which was?’
‘Ten thousand less than the asking price,’ she casually replied.
‘What? Ten grand less?’ Robin cried out.
‘Hmm, so what do you say, darling? Are you in, or are you out?’
Living on a narrowboat meant Jasmine didn’t possess too much in the way of belongings, something she became grateful for as she packed up for her move to Samphire Bay. Most of her stuff had still been in boxes from the move off Moonshine , never having had the inclination to unpack. The storage boxes were neatly stacked in her parents’ garage. Now all Jasmine had to collect were the everyday items she used, mainly toiletries, clothes and her work equipment.
The first thing she needed to do, besides bottoming out the cottage with a good clean, was to install an internet connection, as she couldn’t work without it.
Despite both her parents’ reservations, Jasmine had wanted to move as soon as the money had transferred and she’d signed for the deed on the cottage. As neither the owner nor the buyer was involved in a chain, the transaction had been straightforward and only taken a matter of weeks. Jasmine had been a cash buyer, so hadn’t needed to sort out a mortgage, and a quick survey that showed no structural damage allowed the process to move quickly. Tom’s life insurance had seen to that. Plus, with the sale of the narrowboat, which had made a hefty profit, Jasmine had ended up with quite a tidy sum. Not having any money worries didn’t compensate for not having her husband, though. Yes, being financially solvent meant she could press on with renovating the cottage, but with no Tom to do it with, Jasmine would gleefully return every penny to have him back.
As promised, Sam was going to help with the initial renovation; the kitchen and bathroom were the top priority. Although every room needed attention, Jasmine wasn’t in any particular rush. As long as the place was safe, she’d deep clean the cottage and take her time. The banister in the hall had to be repaired and the window frames replaced, as did the front door. Jasmine had already ordered replacements, having taken measurements, so she and Sam would start ripping out the kitchen while they waited for the deliveries.
To her mother’s horror, Jasmine intended to pitch a tent in her back garden and live there for the first couple of weeks, managing with just a camp stove.
‘Jasmine, there’s no need to do that!’ she’d exclaimed.
‘But I want to, Mum,’ she’d countered.
So, with everything packed and ready to go, including a tent and camping gear, Jasmine and Sam set off, followed by their parents.
‘It is a gorgeous spot,’ Sue conceded, gazing out of the car window as they entered Samphire Bay and drove along the scenic coastal track. The bay lay before them, glistening in the sunlight, looking cool and inviting.
‘It certainly is,’ agreed Mike. For once, in what seemed a long, long time, his shoulders relaxed. His girl was going to be all right here, he could feel it in his bones. He gently patted his wife’s lap. ‘She’ll be OK,’ he soothed.
Both cars parked in convoy outside the cottages. Sam tipped his head towards the other cottage.
‘Looks like you’ve neighbours.’ He pointed to a second Sold sign in the adjoining garden.
‘Oh, yeah,’ Jasmine replied, her thoughts instantly turning to who they might be. A smidgen of disappointment entered her. She’d rather welcomed the idea of being alone for a while out here. Just her and the beautiful coastline. Now it looked like she’d have to share it. Oh well, never mind. She felt a tinge of curiosity, perhaps it was a young family, wanting to create a perfect place to raise children?
‘At least you won’t be on your own,’ her mum remarked as they started to unload the cars. It had bothered her knowing her daughter was out here, alone, in a tent for goodness’ sake.
After a few hours, all the storage boxes had been shifted inside the cottage and the tent had been put up. The four of them were sat on deck chairs, drinking a well-earned cup of freshly brewed tea from the little camp stove.
‘What a view!’ trilled Sue, looking out towards the burnt-orange sun, now slowly setting over the water.
‘I know.’ Jasmine smiled, certain she’d made the right decision. She longed to hear Tom’s voice again, telling her so. Ever since convincing herself that he had guided her into buying the cottage she’d listened in earnest, ready to follow his advice; but no, there hadn’t been anything, just a steady, empty silence.
All four of them drank in the scenery, listening to the sea gently lapping the shore. Jasmine caught a whiff of lavender and scanned the garden to see where it was growing but couldn’t spot any trace of the plant. Leaving the others who had now started to chat, Jasmine got up to peek over the hedge into next door’s garden. Maybe the fragrance was coming from there.
Sure enough, it was. A line of lavender was growing along the edge of the garden path leading from the back door. It had obviously been planted some time ago, to look so full and lavish with its green leaves and bright purple blooms. Jasmine closed her eyes for a few moments and breathed in its sweet aroma. She opened them abruptly at the sound of a cough. A tall, dark haired man stood before her.
‘Oh, hi.’ She blushed, a little embarrassed to be caught looking over the garden hedge.
‘Hi,’ he smiled back, putting down a toolbox. He wore a white fitted T-shirt, emphasising his tanned, muscular arms, and faded jeans which were worn at the knees. He must be some kind of workman.
‘I was just… admiring the lavender,’ Jasmine said, cringing at how lame she sounded.
‘Yeah, the garden’s in far better shape than the inside of the house,’ he laughed, finding her blush rather endearing. Then, moving closer towards the hedge, he offered a hand to shake. ‘I’m Robin.’
‘Jasmine,’ she replied with a polite nod. On impulse, she asked, ‘Are you working on this property, or do you own it?’ Suddenly realising how nosey she must appear, she quickly added, ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so—’
‘Both,’ he interrupted with a grin, his hazel eyes twinkling. ‘I’m the owner and I’ll be renovating the cottage. It’s what I do, property development.’
‘I see,’ Jasmine replied, chewing her lip.
‘And you?’ he asked gently.
‘Sorry?’
‘I see you’ve set up headquarters,’ he teased, tipping his head towards the pitched tent in her garden.
‘Oh, right.’ She laughed. ‘Yes, I’m the owner, and me and my brother are doing up the cottage. Well, giving it our best shot anyway,’ she explained, a touch self-consciously, feeling slightly inadequate compared to this property developer.
‘Jasmine!’ her mother shouted.
‘Better get back,’ she said quickly, not wanting her mum to come and join them. If he thought she was nosey, what on earth would he make of her mum’s inevitable interrogation?
‘OK, well nice meeting you Jasmine,’ Robin replied, picking up his toolbox. Jasmine’s eyes homed in on his broad shoulders.
‘You too, bye!’ she called, then shooed her mum away as she was fast approaching.
‘Who were you talking too?’ she hissed.
‘Just the next-door neighbour,’ answered Jasmine, as nonchalantly as she could.
‘And? Who is it?’ her mum asked eagerly.
‘Shush, I’ll tell you later,’ Jasmine said in a hushed tone and led her back down the garden to the others.
Robin closed the back door behind him, then leant on it. So, that was Jasmine Boyd. And what a beauty she was. Jasmine obviously hadn’t noticed him walk up the side of the cottage to the back garden. He’d certainly noticed her though, head slightly titled, eyes closed, dark blonde hair blowing gently in the breeze. He’d admired her slender neck and shoulders covered only by the thin straps of her sun top. She looked so serene… so captivating. He could have stood there staring at her for hours. Then he let out an impatient sigh. Damn Bunty, this was exactly the reaction she wanted from him.