A Postcard from Puffin Island (Puffin Island #1)

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

V erity was woken at the crack of dawn by the sound of her alarm. She took a moment to rally herself, then realised she had no time to stay in bed. It was today her adventures started. Arriving in Amsterdam was hopefully going to be all flowers and museums, food and coffee shops. Organised as ever, she’d laid out all her clothes the night before, opting for a simple pair of denim shorts, a white T-shirt and her faithful, comfy, worn-out trainers. Already packed in her rucksack were a raincoat and jumper as she didn’t know how chilly it would be on the ferry.

Within seconds she’d jumped out of bed and straight into the shower. Welcoming the warm jets of water that cascaded over her body, she stayed in longer than necessary, knowing that tomorrow morning she would probably be washing with a portable pet shower.

Fifteen minutes later she blasted her hair with the hairdryer, tied it up in a messy bun and applied minimal makeup. Just as she was about to slip her feet into her trainers she heard rain start to patter against the windowpane. Late last night, dark clouds had rolled in, torrential rain had given the town a drenching, and it seemed the storm wasn’t quite done yet. Verity checked the weather app on her phone, finding that a thunderstorm was currently raging in Newcastle upon Tyne. Hopefully, by the time she arrived, it would have passed. Pulling back the curtains for the last time, she stood for a moment, breathing deeply and taking in the view she wouldn’t see again for at least six months. The last few months of her life had been full of turmoil, but since she’d made the decision to take off in her travelling van, it had felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was relieved that it was almost time to hit the road. She couldn’t wait to catch up with Ava.

After making a flask of tea, Verity did a final check of the house, switching off the fridge and all the electrical sockets. She laid all the appliance instructions out for the new tenants and picked up her rucksack.

Just as she was about to go through the door, she hesitated, remembering that the postcard from Puffin Island was still lying on her bedside table. She quickly ran up the stairs to fetch it and slipped it into her rucksack. She couldn’t wait to share with Ava the story of the old postbox and see what she made of the message written on the postcard.

Locking the front door behind her, she gave a quick glance around to confirm that there wasn’t a soul in sight and she would be able to slip away quietly, just as she’d planned. She deposited the keys in the lockbox, threw her rucksack onto the passenger seat and slipped the flask of tea into the door pocket.

Then she punched a text to Ava.

I’m on my way! See you soon!

Starting the engine, Verity switched on the wipers and set up the sat nav on her phone.

According to Google Maps she would reach her destination in just over three hours. Verity wasn’t a confident driver, and the furthest she’d ever driven before now was to the supermarket on the edge of the town, but she wasn’t going to let any doubts creep into her mind. She could do this.

Putting the van in reverse she took her foot off the clutch and started to edge out of the drive.

Bang!

‘Shit! What the hell was that?’ Verity slammed on the brakes, pulled on the handbrake and jumped out. The rain was coming down hard as she stood at the back of the van and stared in dismay at the black wheelybin now lying on its side. ‘Damn,’ she muttered, noting the dent in Hetty’s back, before hauling the bin upright again. So far there had been nothing quiet about this getaway. She glanced up and down the street. Thankfully, it seemed her little accident had gone unnoticed, but it wasn’t the start she wanted, and now she was sodden, the rain having soaked through her T-shirt. After jumping back into the van Verity turned up the heater before grabbing her jumper from the top of the rucksack.

‘Let’s try again.’

As she switched on the radio the lyrics of ‘I Will Survive’ rang out, and she smiled.

‘Got to love Gloria Gaynor!’

There was only one thing for it. Verity turned up the radio. It was her intention to live up to those lyrics and from now on live life to the max. Reversing off the drive, she took one last look at the house. She’d thought she might feel apprehensive about leaving, might question if she was doing the right thing, but all she felt now was excitement mixed with relief. Driving up the road, she sang at the top of her lungs and didn’t even glance towards number 50.

* * *

Three hours later, Verity had successfully navigated herself to North Shields and decided to pull over and get a bite to eat from the greasy spoon café parked in the layby, before entering the ferry port. Outside the glorified caravan stood plastic chairs and tables, each with a laminated menu standing between a ketchup bottle and a container full of plastic knives and forks. Most of the tabletops also came with free grease, or spilled salt.

Thankfully it had stopped raining, though the sky still looked threatening.

As soon as she stepped from her van, Verity was hit by an aroma of bacon, sausage, fried onions and coffee. Suddenly feeling a lot more than peckish, she joined the queue of bikers and truckers to the sound of wolf-whistles. Feeling a crimson blush upon her cheeks, she focused on the counter and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Amongst the hungry customers she spotted a man standing at the head of the queue who looked even more out of place than her, if that was possible. He wore a designer suit of navy twill cloth, with a contemporary fit, natural shoulders and pick-stitched lapels. He turned around, and she couldn’t help but stare; he was drop-dead gorgeous, looking as though he should be dining at an exclusive fancy restaurant, not a greasy spoon by a ferry port. His curly blond hair was wild at the top. She guessed he was in his early thirties – so, around her age. His eyelashes and deep blue eyes were to die for, his face was tanned and he had that unshaven thing going on. As he walked away from the counter, taking a bite of his sandwich, he caught her eye. He slowed as he approached her, saying, ‘And here was me thinking they were whistling at me.’ He gave her a wolfish grin and carried on walking.

Verity smiled and glanced back over her shoulder, watching as he climbed into a black four-wheel drive and finished his food before starting the engine. She was still watching him as he pulled out of the parking spot, and he glanced over in her direction again and paused. They stared at each other for a moment. Verity’s stomach gave a little flip – a feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She wondered who the handsome stranger was and whether he would be on her ferry to Amsterdam.

‘Can I help you, love?’

‘Just a sausage bap, please. Oh, and a coffee?’ she said, hastily stepping up to the counter.

The assistant nodded and cut open a bread roll then walked over to the fryer that was bubbling with fat and fished out a sausage with a long pair of tongs. He handed her the roll in a napkin, along with a polystyrene cup of coffee. ‘There’s sauce and sugar on the tables.’

After thanking him and handing over cash, Verity walked back to her van, the handsome stranger still very much on her mind. From where she was parked she could see he’d driven the short distance to the ferry port. His car stood higher than the vehicles behind him and he was now queuing for passport control. As she juggled her keys to open the van door, her phone vibrated and flashed on the passenger seat. Quickly she balanced the food and cup on the bonnet and hastened to open the door.

Five missed called from Ava were showing on the screen and Verity immediately had a sinking feeling that something was very wrong. Returning her friend’s call, she waited for Ava to answer.

‘There’s nothing to panic about,’ Ava quickly reassured.

‘Thank God for that. I thought you were ringing to tell me you’ve changed your mind and were about to leave me stranded at the ferry port.’

‘Not quite, but there is a tiny blip. But don’t worry, all will be back on track in forty-eight hours.’

‘What kind of blip? Because your blips are usually quite catastrophic.’

There was a pause on the end of the phone.

‘Ava!’

‘I’m not going to be with you today or tomorrow, but I’m coming.’

‘What do you mean? Why not?’

‘I tripped over my rucksack at the top of the stairs, lost my balance, and chipped my front tooth as I fell. I have an emergency dentist’s appointment this afternoon and the next ferry I can get on is the day after next, but my ticket is confirmed.’

‘What am I going to do for two days on my own?’ Verity realised that the first words out of her mouth were not very sympathetic. ‘Sorry, Ava. Let me rephrase that, how are you?’

‘A half-smashed tooth is not a very attractive look, and I know it’s not ideal but for two days you need to put on your big-girl pants and embrace the situation. You’ll be fine and I’ll be with you before you know it.’

‘I know, I can do this,’ Verity said with determination.

‘You can. Get yourself settled on the ferry, relax, read a book, watch the world sail by. I’ll text you over the campsite details and I’ll make my way there as soon as possible. I promise.’

‘You’d better! I’m just about to join the queue to go through passport control.’

‘Don’t have too much fun without me!’

Verity had to admit she was feeling a tad disappointed to be starting this adventure on her own, but Ava would be there as soon as possible and Verity would only need to keep herself occupied for the next forty-eight hours.

Starting the engine, Verity drove into the ferry port and began to follow the slow line of vehicles. Up ahead was a steward who reminded Verity of a flight attendant, his arms stretched in front of him directing vehicles of different sizes into different lanes. The lane in front of her was moving steadily and soon the steward directed her straight ahead, to join the camper vans and the four-wheel drives. Sitting in the queue she looked out towards the long line of ferries. She’d never realised how big they were; she’d only ever seen one on TV. In fact, she had never been on any type of boat before, so this was certainly a first!

Just above the ferry the royalty of the coastal skies was circulating, the enthusiastic, happy band of seagulls swooping down towards the water, no doubt scavenging their next meal. The car in front began moving and stopped at the kiosk, where the occupants handed over their passports. This was it: as soon as she was through passport control her six-month adventure would start.

Verity switched on the radio and smiled as one of Britney’s songs played, instantly reminding her of Kev. Turning up the music she began jigging in her seat, and, taking a sideward glance, she found a pair of mesmerising eyes staring back at her in amusement. There he was again, the gorgeous guy from the greasy spoon, in the next lane. He began pointing at her bonnet and she raised her eyebrows and shrugged, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. He pointed with both hands and Verity followed his gaze.

There, miraculously still balancing on the van’s bonnet, was her sausage bap. (The coffee was long gone.) The phone call from Ava had distracted her and she’d forgotten all about it.

Verity laughed, opened the van door and hopped down. Just at that moment the ferry honked its horn, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She placed both hands on her chest and dared to glance in the attractive man’s direction. He was now shaking his head and laughing. The car in front of her van was beginning to move so she quickly grabbed the sandwich. As she turned, a seagull swooped towards her from nowhere. Verity screamed and threw the sandwich in the air. Not missing its chance, the seagull dived at the food and was soon gliding towards a nearby rock with its breakfast grasped tightly in its beak.

Still in shock, Verity briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, the man was still watching her. She was totally embarrassed, but a tiny part of her saw the funny side. Trying to shrug it off, she laughed and rolled her eyes, but her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen. She mimed ‘you win some, you lose some’ by throwing her hands up in the air. His smile was wide, showing a perfect set of teeth, and he gave her a friendly wave before the cars in front of him moved and he looked ahead of him in his lane. Verity jumped back in her van and slowly began to close the gap between her and the car in front. Within what felt like seconds, the man was through passport control and heading for the ferry at the far end of the port. She immediately wondered if it might be the one heading to Amsterdam.

Verity’s turn was next. She pulled up at the side of the kiosk, wound down her window and handed over her passport.

The customs officer sitting behind the desk scrutinised the passport then intently looked at her face before looking back at her photo. ‘Where are you travelling to today?’ he asked. ‘Amsterdam or Sea’s End?’

Verity stared at the man. ‘Did you just say Sea’s End? Isn’t that near Puffin Island?’

‘I did. It’s that way to Amsterdam, or that way to Sea’s End,’ he said, pointing to the ferry at the far right of the port, ‘with the onward connection to Puffin Island.’

‘Does the ferry dock near the causeway?’

‘It does and it’s due to set sail in the next hour. So, which ferry are you on? Do you have your ticket?’

Verity’s mind was racing. If Ava wasn’t going to make it to Amsterdam for another forty-eight hours, could she explore Puffin Island today, then jump back on the ferry tomorrow and take the next ferry to Amsterdam?

Thinking out loud, she said, ‘I’m not sure if this is at all doable, but would it be possible to buy a new ticket to Sea’s End – sailing today and coming back tomorrow – and change my original ticket to Amsterdam for a day later?’

The customs officer had a sudden look of disdain on his face, clearly annoyed that she was holding up the queue and he’d now have the inconvenience of changing her tickets. But the more Verity thought about it, the more she knew this was exactly what she wanted to do.

‘You’re cutting it a little fine to change your ticket…’ he began.

‘But it can be done?’ she insisted, taking her chance. ‘It’s just a mad coincidence that that ferry could take me closer to Puffin Island. I didn’t know it even existed until yesterday – actually, that’s a lie, my granny used to tell me stories about the place when I was a little girl, but I thought it was all make-believe – when you’ll never guess what happened.’

‘Enlighten me,’ replied the man, now narrowing his eyes.

‘I found a postcard stuck in my postbox addressed to my granny. It was sent over fifty years ago from a man called W – I’m saying it’s a man because I can only assume it’s a man and he said he couldn’t imagine life without her and their secret must have been too much to bear.’ Verity raised her eyebrows. ‘My granny never saw that postcard because the postbox was sealed up with the post inside, so it’s fate that I’m now so close. I need to go to Puffin Island and see if I can find W and discover the secret they shared. It’s like something out of a movie, with romance and intrigue. Look, I have the postcard.’ She reached into her rucksack and held up the postcard towards him. ‘A postcard from Puffin Island.’

The customs officer held up his hands. ‘Okay, I’m invested! Who am I to stand in the way of secrets and possibly romance?’ He turned to the computer behind him and began tapping on the keyboard. ‘It’s your lucky day. There are a couple of tickets left. The return ferry is coming back mid-morning tomorrow, and the next ferry to Amsterdam leaves two hours later, but there will be a cost to change your ticket.’

‘That’s no problem.’ Verity couldn’t believe her luck. She could spend a day and a night on Puffin Island and then arrive in Amsterdam around the same time as Ava. The timing couldn’t be any better.

The man tapped away again and the printer next to him began to whirl, spitting out new tickets. ‘Hang this on the mirror of your van’—he handed over what looked like a paper coat-hanger, which she hung on the mirror —‘and here is your return ticket to Sea’s End, and a new one-way ticket to Amsterdam. The extra cost is ninety pounds.’

Verity handed over her credit card and as soon as the transaction went through, he handed her back her card and passport.

‘Thank you so much.’

‘If you join the queue of cars going that way’—he pointed to the right —‘they’re just starting to board the ferry. Oh, and good luck.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Verity, smiling. Placing the tickets on the passenger seat, she gave him a nod of appreciation before making her way to the ferry. ‘Puffin Island, here we come!’ she said to herself, excitement fizzing inside.

She joined the long line of vehicles driving towards the ferry. She stared at the colossal vessel in front of her. She’d never seen a ferry this close. There were stewards along the way waving flags, directing them onto the ferry and into the next available parking space.

The large ramps made a clanging noise as she drove over them onto the boat, manoeuvring carefully through the tightly packed vehicles. Taking the next available space, she parked the van and gathered everything she might need for the ferry ride. Just before she stepped out of the van, she pinged a text to Ava.

Change of plan for me too! But I’ll still be there before you! I’ll tell you all when I see you. X

With her phone still in her hand, Verity jumped as the steward knocked on her window, encouraging her to vacate her vehicle as quickly as possible. Over the tannoy, an announcement sounded. ‘Please take all your belongings you need for your journey as there will be no return to your vehicle possible during this sailing.’

Purse, check, Kindle, check, phone, check. Verity had everything she needed. Once the van was locked, she slipped the keys into her rucksack and turned to follow the long line of passengers who were weaving through the parked vehicles towards a flight of metal steps at the far end of the ferry, with a sign reading, To the deck .

Verity immediately recognised the car parked opposite her as the four-wheel drive belonging to the handsome stranger. Her pulse began to race, knowing he was actually on the same ferry as her, though at the minute he was nowhere to be seen. Verity couldn’t resist a peek inside his car as she walked past. The interior was immaculate; it looked like it had just been driven off the showroom floor. The only thing visible inside was his suit jacket hanging up in the passenger window. Walking past the steward who was directing the passengers towards the stairs, she asked, ‘Excuse me, how many passengers are on this ferry?’ She wondered how difficult it might be to track down the stranger.

‘One thousand five hundred passengers, four hundred and seventy-three cars, two hundred and forty-seven cabins, seven hundred and eighty-six beds, three hundred and thirty-seven reclining seats, a self-service restaurant, a bar, a café, a gift shop, two cinemas, a video game arcade, a children’s playroom, a reading lounge and WiFi. These ferries cover forty-five thousand miles per year,’ the steward finished in a rush before she finally came up for breath.

‘Wow.’ Verity was impressed. ‘I’m guessing that’s not the first time you’ve said that this week?’ she replied, smiling.

‘I’ve lost count. It’s that way to the deck and everywhere is signposted once you’re up above.’

Calling her thanks as she was swept along by the crowd, Verity was soon up on deck, where she found a cabin with rows and rows of seats, most of them already occupied, huge windows looking out over the water. At the back of the boat was an outside deck where passengers were leaning against the safety rail waiting for the ferry to set sail. The queue to the café was already long and even though Verity was feeling hungry she found herself a vacant seat in the cabin and made herself comfortable.

Hearing her phone ping she looked at the screen to find a message from Ava.

Tell me more!

I’m chasing a secret romance on an island full of puffins!

After slipping her phone back into her rucksack she glanced around the cabin, but the handsome stranger was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. Feeling a little disappointed she turned towards the window and thought about what exactly her plan should be when she arrived on Puffin Island.

She’d boarded the ferry on a whim, chasing a secret and a romantic dream, excited at the prospect of exploring the island her granny had told her about. The burning question was: would anyone remember her granny? It was probably unlikely but she remained hopeful that she might find some answers and a new connection to the grandmother she’d loved so deeply.

The horn sounded and the ferry slowly began to move, the gulls still circling above. The rain had stopped for the moment but if the colour of the sky was anything to go by, that wasn’t going to be for long. Taking a glance towards the queue at the café Verity saw that it wasn’t dwindling fast, so with nothing but time on her hands, she pulled out her phone and Googled Puffin Island again. She knew from her granny’s stories that the causeway was the main route on and off the island, and that it was closed at certain times of the day when the tide was high. According to the online timetable, the next time Verity could cross the causeway to Puffin Island would be just after two o’clock that afternoon.

Verity wondered whether village life on the island was exactly like in her granny’s stories. She smiled to herself. Whenever she’d had a sleepover at Granny’s she’d always wanted to go to bed early so she could listen to the next instalment of what everyone got up to on Puffin Island. The tales started coming back to her now. Beachcomber Bakery, which made and sold delicious cake. The ‘to die for’ (according to Granny) afternoon cream tea from the tearoom on Lighthouse Lane. Verity racked her brain trying to remember its name but eventually gave up and Googled ‘tearoom on Lighthouse Lane’. And there it was: the award-winning Café by the Coast. The thatched Grade 2-listed cottage, offering traditional clotted cream teas, tasty sandwiches and scrumptious cakes, lay at the end of Lighthouse Lane overlooking Blue Water Bay.

As with Puffin Island itself, Verity couldn’t believe the tearoom’s owner, Betty Rose, was real, but there she was, proudly standing in front of the teashop on the front page of its website. In her seventies now, Betty apparently hadn’t quite retired, still working three days a week alongside her granddaughter, Clemmie, to welcome thousands of tourists every year. According to their website, to avoid disappointment it was recommended to book a table in advance to sample the delights of their award-winning cream teas. So that’s exactly what Verity did: booked a table for one at three o’clock that very afternoon.

The picturesque Lighthouse Lane, the main street of Puffin Island, had camera-worthy credentials and had no doubt graced countless postcards, keyrings and chocolate boxes in its time. Pastel-painted houses and timber-framed buildings lined the gently winding cobbled lane, with its numerous bespoke shops and boutiques including a second-hand bookstore, Beachcomber Bakery, and Puffin Pantry, a delicatessen that sold local jam and chutneys alongside meats and cheeses.

The lane took its name from the lighthouse just off the harbour adjacent to Puffin Island, which guarded shipwreck shallows. Docked in the nearby bay, The Sea Glass Restaurant, with its spectacular glass bottom that showed the clear blue waters underneath the tables, was a favourite place to dine for locals and visitors alike. The next street, Anchor Way, also cobbled, offered the finest in fashion, and all seaside essentials. The B&B, along with Smuggler’s Rest, the island’s hotel, was located here, a stone’s throw from the pub, The Olde Ship Inn. Anchor Way led into a small square where you could discover local whimsical contemporary art in the gallery, and aged treasures in the antique shops.

Puffin Island had one hundred and sixty residents, and attracted over six hundred thousand visitors a year – and Verity was about to become one of them! Moving on to Google Earth, Verity zoomed in on the map to follow the small path leading from the end of Lighthouse Lane to Blue Water Bay, which had a sandy shore, clear blue water and a breathtaking scenic coastline. Across the bay, was the harbour and further on the sand dunes which led you to another secluded cove, Castaway Cove, where the rocky coastline leading up to the cliffs housed the forty-three thousand pairs of puffins that made their home on Puffin Island between April and June every year. As Verity zoomed in further she noticed an isolated cottage, which looked exactly how she’d always pictured the cottage that often featured in Granny’s stories.

According to her granny, Cliff Top Cottage, nestled amongst the puffins’ dens, was the most beautiful and sought-after cottage on the island, with stunning views over the harbour. Taking a glance out of the ferry’s window, Verity saw that the coastline was diminishing in the background and the ferry was gathering speed. Once more, the heavens opened and the rain began to lash against the water and window. The sea looked choppy and Verity’s stomach flipped. All of a sudden, she began to feel a little queasy and her whole body felt warm. Her stomach churning, she turned towards the café, finding the queue was now only five people deep. Taking her chance, she left her rucksack on the chair and slipped her phone into the pocket of her shorts.

‘A bottle of water please,’ said Verity, once she’d reached the front of the queue. Only an hour ago she was ravenous but now she was doing her best to hold on to last night’s ready meal.

‘Anything else?’ asked the shop assistant with a smile.

Verity looked towards the menu on the blackboard behind the assistant, then scanned the sandwiches in the glass cabinet. Her stomach lurched and she felt herself pale. ‘I’m not quite sure, I’m suddenly feeling very unwell.’

The assistant looked sympathetic. ‘Is it your first time on a ferry?’

Verity nodded. ‘I was feeling absolutely fine five minutes ago but now…’

‘Try and stay distracted, I always find nibbling on a biscuit helps to take off the edge.’

‘I’ll take those ginger biscuits then. Thanks.’

‘Good choice – and don’t look directly at the water, it’ll make you feel worse. When I first started working on the ferry, I used to have an emergency bucket by the side of me, but I found it helped going out onto the open deck and taking in the fresh air.’

Glancing out of the window, Verity saw the rain still looked heavy.

‘There’s a cover so you won’t get soaked, though maybe a little sprayed,’ the assistant said kindly while ringing the items up on the till. After Verity paid, she gingerly made her way back to her seat. The first mistake she made was to look at the water as she sat down. Her stomach flipped again. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of anything to distract herself, but it wasn’t working. Her stomach had decided it was competing in gymnastics at the Olympics as it lunged into a triple somersault. With her eyes still closed she took a sip of water and nibbled on the biscuit. It was no help. Fearing she was going to vomit, she grabbed a sickbag from the pocket of the chair and looked towards the seats in the middle of the ferry. It appeared it wasn’t just her who was feeling the effects of the stormy seas, as there was a long line of people sitting with their heads back and their eyes closed, clutching a sickbag.

Feeling her body temperature rising, she desperately wanted fresh air. Up on her feet she staggered on the unsteady floor, brushing against numerous other passengers as she made her way towards the open deck. As soon as she opened the door Verity welcomed the blast of fresh air. She walked to the stern rail and grabbed onto it for dear life. Gulping air, she was grateful for the light spray of the rain. Keeping her eyes closed and her head down, Verity breathed in deeply and filled her lungs with air. But still it wasn’t helping. No matter how hard she tried not to think about how she was feeling, the nausea swirling in the pit of her stomach was only intensifying.

‘The joys of ferry rides, eh?’

Verity lifted her head slowly and opened her eyes.

The handsome stranger from the greasy spoon was standing right next to her. His timing couldn’t be any worse. Verity swallowed hard, trying to think of anything except the bile rising from her stomach. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

‘You look kind of green.’ He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I suspect that seagull did you a favour as it means you haven’t got a sausage sandwich swirling in the pit of your stomach.’

The very thought made Verity heave but somehow, she’d mislaid the sickbag on the walk to the outside deck. Her eyes began to water and she feared she couldn’t hold back for much longer. Raising her hands, she frantically wafted them in front of her face.

The handsome stranger looked horrified. ‘You’re about to be sick, aren’t you?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. Quickly leaning behind him he grabbed a sickbag from the holder on the wall and thrust it into Verity’s hands. Mortified, but thankful for the bag, she threw up.

As soon as she stopped heaving, he passed her a tissue. ‘Sam Wilson,’ he shared. For a moment they stared at each other in an awkward silence. ‘We meet again. First you get me wolf-whistled and second, well, you throw up. It’s not often those two things happen to me in the space of a couple of hours. As Monday mornings go, it’s been eventful!’

Still feeling green, Verity managed a laugh. She liked his sense of humour.

‘I have to say, though, there are other ways to get a man’s attention. Just a normal “Hello, I’m…” would have been enough.’ He had a glint in his eye and Verity’s stomach began to flip again, this time for all the right reasons.

It had been a long time since she’d flirted with anyone, and that’s all it was, because the last thing on her mind was the possibility of getting involved in any romantic entanglement, no matter how sexy he was. The next six months would be all about finding out who Verity Callaway was, and what she wanted from life. But from the way he was looking at her, it was clear that he found her just as attractive as she found him.

‘Hello, I’m Verity…Callaway.’ She smiled but suddenly felt a little shy.

‘There’s a little bit of colour coming back to her cheeks.’

She knew she was blushing and wiped her mouth with the tissue hoping to hide that very fact. ‘I’m really sorry. The second the ferry started moving, that was it, my stomach no longer belonged to my body. Would you excuse me?’ She wrinkled her nose as she held up the sickbag. ‘I think I need to dispose of this.’ She leaned behind Sam and dropped it into the bin.

‘How are you feeling now?’

‘Kind of dizzy.’ Verity wobbled.

Sam put out his hand to steady her. ‘Keep drinking water and breathing in the fresh air.’ He looked at his watch. ‘You’ll be over the worst now.’

‘Thank God,’ she replied. ‘One thing I’ve learned from my very first ferry trip is that I’ll never want a job in the Royal Navy. In future, my feet are staying firmly on land. I’m not sure I’ll make the fifteen hours to Amsterdam.’

Sam’s eyes widened. ‘You do know it was the other ferry going to Amsterdam, not this one?’ Panic was evident in his tone.

‘I know,’ she rushed to reassure him. ‘That’s where I should be heading right now but I got distracted.’

‘Distracted?’ Sam raised an eyebrow.

‘Don’t go getting any ideas. I didn’t see a perfect handsome stranger in the queue at the greasy spoon, then follow him to the ferry port and decide to change my ticket at the last minute because his four-wheel drive was getting on a different ferry from myself and Hetty.’

Sam looked over his shoulder. ‘Hetty? Do you have company?’

Verity smiled. ‘Hetty is my travelling van. This is our first adventure after…’ She paused.

‘After?’

‘After my separation.’ Verity couldn’t quite believe she was sharing all this information with a complete stranger. ‘She was my old works van and when I resigned, I decided it was about time I did something out the ordinary. So I converted her into a camper. It took a couple of months but now she’s just perfect. Tonight, we’ll be sleeping under the stars.’

Sam looked up at the sky. ‘I don’t want to burst your bubble, but with a sky that dark…’

Verity laughed. ‘You have a fair point.’

‘Shall we get back to your story? You were saying something about a perfect handsome stranger in the café queue…’ Sam teased.

She arched an eyebrow. ‘Café is a very loose term.’

Sam laughed. ‘So why the change of destination? And can I just say I’m a little disappointed that it wasn’t because you were chasing the perfect handsome stranger? That’s the stuff of movies and we all know how those stories tend to end.’

‘And how do they end?’

‘The couple fall in love and live happily after ever.’

She smiled at him. ‘The perfect handsome stranger is a bonus,’ she replied, happily flirting right back. ‘I’m travelling for six months with a friend. We should have been meeting in Amsterdam but she’s had an emergency and can’t make it for another forty-eight hours.’

‘Her loss, Sea’s End gain.’

‘Definitely her loss. Apparently she tripped over her rucksack, and chipped a tooth.’

‘Ouch.’

‘And when the customs officer informed me this ferry was going to Sea’s End, which is right next to Puffin Island, it was fate.’

‘Fate?’

‘I just had to visit because when I was a little girl my granny told me bedtime stories about the island and I’ve just discovered it’s a real place.’

Just at that moment an announcement informed them that the ferry was docking in five minutes, and asked the passengers to gather all their belongings and make their way back to their vehicles.

‘You do know you won’t be able to drive across the causeway until this afternoon?’

‘I do. How long is the causeway?’

Sam pointed. ‘A little under three miles. That gorgeous harbour at Sea’s End is where we’re docking. It’s the nearest town to Puffin Island and it looks like St Tropez on a sunny day. Not so gorgeous in the rain though.’ He held up his hands. ‘But it does look like it’s clearing.’

In a steady stream the passengers began to vacate the deck. ‘After you,’ said Sam. ‘You look a little brighter.’

‘I’m actually feeling quite hungry now.’

‘You won’t find a greasy spoon in Sea’s End as it’s a little more upmarket, but the seafood restaurants around here are to die for.’

‘I think I’ll wait for my stomach to settle a little more first.’

‘Good plan.’

They made their way down the stairs towards the lower deck. Numerous passengers were already sitting in their cars with their engines running, waiting to drive off the ferry.

‘I hope your ferry ride to Amsterdam goes a little more smoothly,’ he said with a smile. ‘My car is here,’ he said, pointing.

‘My van is here.’

‘As soon as you come out of the ferry port, the causeway is clearly signposted, as is Sea’s End.’

‘Is that where you’re heading?’

‘I am, until I can cross the causeway.’

‘It was lovely to meet you,’ she said as she climbed into her van.

‘You too.’ He pointed at the car in front of her, which was already moving. The car behind her also had its engine running, waiting for her to move forward. ‘Have fun on your adventures, Verity Callaway.’

They stared at each other for a moment.

‘I don’t suppose…’ Feeling impulsive, she was just about to ask whether he would be free for dinner tonight, when the car behind began to impatiently beep. The driver wound down his window. ‘Come on, we’re moving.’ He gestured irritably.

‘You’d best get a move on.’ Sam turned and walked around to the driver’s side of his car and climbed inside. He took one last look in Verity’s direction and gave her a sexy smile as he started the engine and began to follow the long line of vehicles in front of him.

‘Damn, double damn,’ she uttered under her breath. Thanks to the impatient motorist behind her she’d missed the opportunity to ask Sam out, but there was nothing she could do about it now. With the handsome stranger still very much on her mind she drove off the ferry and followed the exit signs. Sam’s car was nowhere in sight, but as she knew he would be crossing the causeway as soon as it was safe, she hoped that she might bump into him there. There was something about Sam Wilson that had her wanting to know more.