Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘You have got to be joking. She can’t stay here!’
‘Morven, for God’s sake, keep your voice down. She’s outside. And, by the way, if you can’t be civil to her – to Lily – then you and I are going to fall out properly.’
‘OK, but don’t expect me to wait on her.’
Sam stiffened. Morven had gone too far. ‘No one will be waiting on her,’ he said sharply. ‘Lily is more than capable of looking after herself, believe me.’
‘Wow, Uncle Sam, steady on. You sound as if you actually like her.’
‘She’s very nice when you get to know her,’ he said, wishing he hadn’t defended Lily quite so robustly. ‘You’ve no idea what she’s been through.’
Morven burned him with a laser stare. ‘So, basically, you fancy her?’
Thrown off kilter for a beat, he managed to recover. ‘If you carry on like this, I’m going to call your dad and make him come back right now.’
Morven tossed her hair and laughed. ‘He wouldn’t come back if I’d almost drowned in a kayak accident. He couldn’t give a toss about me, only himself and The Gorgon.’
‘That’s not true,’ Sam said, gathering all his patience. ‘He does care, and you can’t blame Lily for what’s happening in your life.’ He decided not to refer to Grady at all.
Morven’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. He’d said the wrong thing again.
With a vicious rattle, Morven flounced through the bead curtain that led to the kitchens. He saw her disappear out of the café’s rear entrance, headed who knew where. At least she couldn’t go far, trapped as she was on the half a square mile of land.
Sam couldn’t be irritated with her for too long. She was clearly hurt deeply by Nate’s neglect. Sam also feared that Morven might be right: although he was sure Nate loved his daughter dearly, his brother’s priorities had gone seriously off the rails.
He’d have to call Nate again, and find out when – oh, God, if – he was coming back for his daughter. If ever Nate decided to leave her for good – following on from her mother’s vanishing act – Sam didn’t know what he’d do.
What with Morven and the retreat to deal with, Sam would have liked to flounce off and hide away himself, but he was meant to be the grown-up here.
Lily was waiting outside on her mobile again, of course. He’d only just managed to persuade the ground crew to offload her bags before they’d taken off without her.
‘I’m so sorry for the about-turn,’ she’d said with a desperation that had disarmed him. ‘I really do feel bad about all the drama and inconvenience, but I’ve changed my mind. I need to stay here. Sorry, I have to take this call. We can talk later.’
There had been no time to hear the finer details of her sudden change of heart. Sam had been busy soothing the crew and grabbing back her bags.
Only when he’d retrieved them and ushered Lily into a golf buggy and over to his waiting boat, had he been able to talk to her properly.
‘I’ll tell you more when I’ve finished sorting this out, but I’ll be staying for the full two weeks as originally booked. That’s OK, isn’t it?’ she asked.
‘Well, yes …’ Cowrie Cottage was the only one he’d booked out so far, but when he’d thought Lily was leaving, he’d made plans to spend the next few weeks finishing another two. He wanted to throw himself into the work and be free from his hosting duties, cooking and cleaning.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to cope. On a practical note, he hadn’t slept in his own bed at Hell Bay House, his home on Bryher, for days. Morven had had the run of the place, and God knows what she’d been getting up to on her own. Elspeth had said she’d seen young people coming to and fro and heard music until the small hours. Sam would have to go back there and check the place hadn’t been turned into a rave venue before he took Lily over to Stark.
And now it would just be the two of them, alone together. There was no doubt they’d forged a bond since the accident and she’d overturned many of his expectations, but spending so much time with her might mean growing even closer.
Look what had happened the last time. It had ended in tears, bitter tears …
Sam shook himself. None of this was going to help him behave as a professional host for the next two weeks. He had to get a grip.
Lily was sitting outside the Quayside Café, talking to Elspeth.
‘Ah, Sam!’ His aunt greeted him with a broad smile on her face.
To his relief, Lily looked happier too. ‘Elspeth says I’m welcome at the café any time I want to be in touch with the outside world.’
He hid a smile. The outside world made Scilly sound like Mars.
‘And I can try out her coffee while I’m here. And possibly the cakes. The brownies were delicious.’
‘You haven’t tried the lemon drizzle yet,’ Elspeth said. ‘Or the coconut and lime sandwich, or the cheese scones. I do brunch and lunch as well as cream teas.’
‘Stop!’ Lily cried. ‘I’ll go home the size of a house!’
‘You need fattening up,’ Elspeth said. ‘Doesn’t she, Sam?’
Lily stared at him expectantly.
‘I – er—’ he floundered, feeling that Lily needed a good dose of his aunt’s cakes.
‘It’ll be OK for me to pop over to Bryher, won’t it? When you come for supplies and stuff?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He bit back a lengthy response involving tides, rocks, running the retreat, cooking for Lily, working on the unfinished cottages … before realising he was meant to be a host. ‘Do you mind,’ he said as brightly as he could, ‘if while we’re here we pop in at my place, quickly? I need some clean clothes and to check on the house.’
‘Not at all,’ Lily said, equally as brightly. ‘Be my guest.’
Hell Bay House had stood for over a hundred years on a low grassy field beside the shore. It was separated from the bay itself by a freshwater pool and low rocky outcrops. In the distance beyond was Stark. He could see the cottages from here and even the ladder propped against one of the four unfinished units. Hidden at the rear were a concrete mixer and building materials.
It struck him that he was very far from having the retreat ready for visitors. Neither the facilities nor the infrastructure were ready – and, most worryingly, neither was he. It seemed arrogant of him now to have rejected Lily’s offer of advice, yet he stood by his principle: she was on Stark for a proper break, not to talk business.
He just hoped that there were no more dramas to come while she was his guest.
The press reports surrounding her accident hardly showed the retreat in a good light. One had called it ‘half-built’ and words like ‘deserted’, ‘isolated’ and ‘abandoned’ had been used along with a mention of ‘the plague and leprosy’ in reference to the pest house. None of it was an actual lie, but together it made Stark Retreat sound like a few shacks on a pestilent lump of rock where guests weren’t safe.
‘OK. I’m ready,’ Lily said, switching off her phone. ‘I’ve spoken to Richie and my head of PR. They’re going to deal with the press now so I can fully relax.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Sam said, unsure if she really would stick to it.
‘Shall we go to your house?’ she said. ‘I’ve put you to a lot of trouble already.’
‘Not at all.’ He showed her to a muddy old Defender parked near the slipway. Her eyes ranged around on the way, taking in the tiny settlement known grandly as High Town, with its flower-bedecked cottages, gallery and post office stores.
‘I didn’t know you kept a car here,’ she said.
‘Yeah, though it’s ancient and it’s never left Bryher since the day I bought it from one of the neighbours. I wasn’t even born when it arrived here on the freight ship. Most people on the islands have some form of motorised transport, to shift stuff around. We give lifts to those who need them: the elderly, non-drivers and kids up from the boats.’
‘Everyone looks out for each other, I can see that.’
‘It’s a small community – we wouldn’t survive if we didn’t. Of course, there’s also a downside to living in each other’s pockets.’
‘No privacy,’ she murmured. ‘Ironic that I came here for that and the opposite has happened.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid everyone probably knows who you are by now. You might have been better off in London where you could at least have been one among millions. You’ve clearly decided Stark was the lesser of two evils.’ He added a smile as he said it.
‘I didn’t stay here because I had no choice. I felt it was what I needed to do.’
He nodded and stopped the Land Rover outside a white-painted place. ‘Here we are. Hell Bay House.’
Lily slid down from the passenger seat and stared at the building. ‘OK?’ he said, seeing her eyes widen at the sight of his home.
‘Yes. It’s – well, Hell Bay. It doesn’t live up to its name.’
Sam followed her gaze to his double-fronted house, the gardens thick with mauve agapanthus and towering echiums. Scallop shells adorned the low white garden wall. He’d helped implant them in the cement himself when he was younger and his parents and Nate lived here too.
‘You should see it on a wild January night in the middle of a raging storm. Sand gets blown into the garden and you can feel the foundations shake.’
‘The actual foundations shake?’ Lily asked, eyeing the ocean with trepidation.
‘It feels like it, but we’re far enough back from the sea for safety.’ He saw her eyes widen at the sight of the jagged rocks closed around the white sand bay like jaws. As the tide ebbed, Stark seemed to be almost within wading distance across the shining strand and shallow pools. So tranquil, so benevolent a scene … Nothing bad or tragic could ever happen here, surely?
‘So far, anyway. Come on in. Make yourself comfortable while I sort out some stuff.’
Hell Bay House had once been the home of one of the better-off families on Bryher, amid a clutch of cottages owned by fishermen and modern bungalows built in the middle of the twentieth century.
The Teagues had made money on mainland Cornwall, initially from pilchard fishing, and had invested it cautiously, which had enabled them to buy the house at the turn of the twentieth century – and to purchase Stark from its previous owner, a bankrupt minor aristocrat who’d been given it by the Crown and had been desperate to be rid of it.
Although Stark had been left jointly to Nate and Sam by their grandparents, Nate had never shown an iota of interest in it and hadn’t put in a penny of investment. He’d told Sam that he could have the place and keep any profit he made from ‘the godforsaken rock’.
Lily lingered by the gate to look out over the sea.
‘This view is … breathtaking.’
He glanced up, used to the panorama of navy sea, bone-white sand and a sky that could be anything from clear blue to leaden.
‘I guess so. I suppose I take it for granted. Even so …’ he said, allowing his gaze to rest on the clouds scudding across the sky and the terns landing on the pool ‘… I would find it hard to live anywhere else.’
‘Hard or impossible?’ she said.
‘Very hard,’ he said, reminded of a similar conversation he’d had on this very spot. He’d known she was leaving then, as he knew Lily would soon. Only this morning he’d convinced himself he’d be glad to see the back of her but now … he longed for her to stay so he could know her better yet that would be to risk liking her too much.
She shivered.
‘Shall we go inside?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘Lily, can I ask what really made you change your mind about staying here?’ he said, back in the sitting room.
‘I – I made a strategic business decision.’
‘A strategic business decision?’ He sat on the arm of the sofa, arms folded.
She turned away from the window. ‘Yes.’
‘I see.’
‘I decided that now wasn’t the time to go back. The press are hounding me, and yes, I do need more time to gather myself. My family want me to take a break too and, for all our sakes, I think I should do it. The past few days have been … challenging … and it’s probably best if I allow myself time to fully process them.’
‘That sounds very much like a corporate statement,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind me saying …’
‘Does it?’ She treated him to a self-deprecating smile. ‘I guess it’s hard to kick the habit. It is OK, isn’t it?’ she added.
‘Of course. You’re my guest,’ he said, aware he also was putting on a front.
‘And you won’t mind me popping over to Bryher when I need to? I can get one of the scheduled boats to the other islands from there, so I won’t be under your feet all the time.’
‘It’s your holiday. You can do what you like. Please, make yourself at home while I collect some things from upstairs.’
He needed clean clothes. Although there was a laundry room at the retreat, he wasn’t sure he’d have time to do any washing. In search of clean underwear, he opened drawers, knowing he had an unopened pack of boxers somewhere …
Cursing under his breath, he opened the drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe. Inside was a tiny bunch of dried flowers tied with a blue ribbon.
His stomach clenched with sadness at the sight and the bittersweet memories they brought back – he still couldn’t bear to part with them.
Sam covered them with clothes again and went downstairs, forcing himself to focus on practicalities and activity. He put his clean clothes in a dry bag by the front door and popped into the kitchen, taking fresh milk, juice and a few other items from his fridge. The boat was already loaded with cool boxes of fresh veg, meat for the freezer at Stark and enough fresh fish from Rory to last a couple of days. Lily would be pleased.
‘The forecast’s good. We shouldn’t have a problem getting around,’ he called as she re-entered the sitting room.
Lily was nowhere to be seen but the curtains were blowing in the breeze through the open French doors.
He moved quietly forward and saw her outside on his terrace, surrounded by agapanthus, hugging herself as if no one else ever would.
Sensing his presence, she swung round, panicked at being caught looking vulnerable. He was struck by how slight she seemed, how drawn and isolated. Was this the woman of steel, the ‘evil bitch’ described online? Because, while he was upstairs, he had glanced at the social media comments … and wished he hadn’t. He’d wanted to confront every single one of the cowardly pondlife posting such vile comments.
Then he remembered she was the last person who needed a man protecting her like some misguided knight in tarnished armour. It was better to keep his distance: that way he couldn’t be hurt.
‘I hope you don’t mind. I needed some fresh air after this morning. And the view was so incredible, I stepped outside.’ She smiled. ‘I can’t see anyone but perhaps a long lens is trained on me.’
Sam was alarmed. ‘You think reporters would follow you over here to Bryher?’
‘I’m not that notorious,’ she said, attempting a joke. ‘No, they wouldn’t bother and the fuss will die down quickly. There will be new people to hound and troll soon enough.’
‘I don’t know how you stand it.’
She shrugged. ‘I have no choice. Or rather, I have to accept it if I want to be successful at what I do.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘You’ll have to deal with reviews from guests and the press, you know? You can’t run a place like Stark and not put yourself out there.’
‘I realise that. But maybe I hadn’t realised quite how much.’
‘Look, I am supposed to be on retreat, but I can give you some tips … but only if you want me to. Not as a businessperson, but as a – friend?’
‘A friend?’ he echoed. ‘I – I don’t want to add to your stress.’
‘It would be a pleasure.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘If you think you can stand the heat?’
She’d disarmed him again, and he glimpsed the warmth under the exterior, a warmth he was seeing more of, more often. ‘Will it be as scary as being a contestant on the Great British Craft Show ?’ he asked, deadpan. Lily playfully punched his arm.
‘In all seriousness, I’d appreciate some advice. But first, shall we get you safely to Stark so you can settle back in? It’s been a hell of a day and it’s still only eleven a.m.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t hold any more drama,’ Lily said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She still looked pale and the image came into his mind of her staring out at Hell Bay, hugging herself tight.
There was so much more she wasn’t telling him.
But then, there was so much more he wasn’t telling her.