Chapter 2

Nick’s toe clipped a beer can and sent it skidding across the polished concrete floor.

He ignored it and wandered through to the open-plan kitchen, where he popped a capsule into the fancy coffee machine and leaned against the worktop as the machine bubbled and spat delicious-smelling liquid into a tiny cup.

Coffee in hand, Nick crossed the room and slid open the bifold doors, stepping out onto a deck drenched in sunshine. He set the coffee on a table, pulled his sunglasses over his eyes, and hopped into a hammock. ‘This is the life,’ he said to himself.

The only thing disturbing Nick’s peace was the sound of children’s screams below him on the beach.

It was half term, and Nick hated the way the beach was taken over by families during the school holidays.

The house had a wooden staircase leading straight from the deck where he sat to the beach, but he wouldn’t be making the short walk today.

Give it a week, and he’d be able to sunbathe in peace again, without the threat of sand spraying up behind tiny feet, or icy droplets of water landing on him as feral kids messed around at the water’s edge.

Nick’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to read the message.

Kayak after work?

He smiled, glad his best friend hadn’t forgotten him completely.

Ever since Luke had got together with Alice, the new girl of Saffron Bay, Nick had felt like a third wheel.

It was bad enough Luke worked such long hours, but with Alice he had another drain on his time. Nick had barely seen him for weeks.

After work sounds great, Nick replied, snapping a photo of himself in the hammock and pressing send.

There was no response from Luke. No surprise there.

Nick had grown used to Luke’s disapproval over his lack of gainful employment, or any purpose beyond having fun.

If you didn’t have to work, why bother? As he tilted his face to the sun and smiled, Nick knew who had the right idea.

Yes, he was edging closer to thirty than was comfortable, but while still in his twenties with zero responsibilities, he intended to make the most of his freedom.

The doorbell rang, and Nick checked the app on his phone. He sighed at the effort of having to move. He wanted to pretend he was out, but he couldn’t get away with it given who was waiting on his doorstep.

When Nick opened the door, a smart woman with an immaculate silver bob gazed at him with a determined look in her piercing blue eyes.

Nick put on a charming smile. ‘Morning, Margot, what can I do you for?’

Margot checked her watch. ‘I think you’ll find it’s the afternoon, not the morning.’

‘Is it? I only just got up.’

Margot rolled her eyes, stepping from foot to foot as though standing still for even a minute was torture. Nick pitied her. She should take a leaf out of his book and learn how to chill.

Margot pushed a tin under his nose and waited. ‘I’m collecting for the lifeboat service,’ she said.

‘Sorry, I don’t have any change.’

‘No problem.’ Margot pulled a card reader from her back pocket.

Nick swallowed a sigh. ‘Wait there. I’ll get my wallet.’ He took his time, hoping Margot would lose patience and go home, but when he returned, she was waiting, an expectant look on her face.

‘How much you choose to donate is up to you. Given we live in a coastal village, I’m sure you’d agree the RNLI is more important to us than most, so I hope you’ll be generous.’

‘I’ll donate a fiver,’ said Nick. He squirmed under her frown.

He couldn’t help it if she thought he was being tight, because, despite living in the lap of luxury, he couldn’t afford any more.

Not that she’d believe him if he told her.

Yes, she knew the house belonged to his parents, but, like most of the village, Margot probably assumed Nick was in receipt of a healthy allowance. How he wished that were true.

With a curt thank you, Margot peeled a picture of a lifeboat from a roll of stickers and attached it to Nick’s T-shirt before he could protest that he was twenty-seven, not seven. As she turned to walk away, Nick was certain she was smirking.

He closed the door and padded through the house, twisting his head and holding his breath as he passed a stack of unopened letters on the mantelpiece, ignoring the way his heartbeat doubled in tempo.

He squeezed his eyes shut, then turned back, forcing himself to look.

No, it was no better a second time. The lettering on the envelopes still danced and taunted him.

Trying to push aside the feelings of failure, he returned to his position in the hammock to plan his day.

Or, as Margot had pointed out, the rest of his day.

He could go for a run, spend an hour in the home gym, or have a wander along the coast path.

Nick placed a hand firmly on his belly and wobbled the extra layer he’d gained over the long winter months.

He’d have to be careful, or he’d have a dad bod before he knew it, and there was no excuse for that, especially as he had no intention of becoming a dad any time soon.

As he closed his eyes against the bright sun, uneasiness returned, stirring deep in the pit of Nick’s stomach.

He squeezed his eyes tighter, pushing away the niggle of self-doubt that he was a loser hiding in plain sight.

Shifting on the hammock, Nick felt his teeth clench as a fizzing sensation took up residence in his chest. It reminded him of how the bubbles rose to the surface when he opened a can of beer, only a lot less pleasant.

He opened his eyes, blinking against the sun, and the sense of panic he needed to get under control.

‘Stop being stupid,’ he told himself, while his inner voice reminded him that his father stopping his allowance was only the first step. The next would inevitably be the demand to move out.

Nick stretched his arms above his head, reached for his coffee, and took a sip.

His parents were away for a month, so what was the point of worrying now?

And anyway, he was sure he could win them over.

He could do some jobs around the house that would get him back in the good books.

Perhaps his mother would give him some cash for his troubles, even if no one else would want to employ someone like him?

Nick smiled, sinking into the hammock, relieved he had a plan.

And there was no rush, he’d wait for the next rainy day to make a start.

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