Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘Um … I’ve been invited to the pub.’
Lily was halfway up a ladder and about to reload her roller with Misty Morn emulsion when Sam made this apparently significant announcement to her.
That evening, over dinner, they’d had a discussion and he’d finally agreed she could help him finish Cottage Two – now known as Samphire. Cottages Three and Four – Starfish and Scallop – were also well on their way apart from bathroom tiling and painting.
‘Or should I say “we”?’ he added, carefully brushing paint above the skirting board and still not looking at her. ‘I met up with my mate Aaron earlier and he said the gig crew are at the Rock Inn tomorrow. He invited you to join us.’
‘He invited me ? Are you sure? He doesn’t know me.’
She descended to floor level where Sam had risen from his knees.
‘He’s heard about you,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid everyone has but that’s not why he asked. He knew you were staying on the island and thought you might like to come. I did say you were here for peace and quiet but that I’d pass on the invite.’
Lily resisted the urge to tell him he had paint on his nose, or worse, to wet her finger and wipe it off. How could he look so gorgeous in a ripped T-shirt and paint-splattered shorts? Even the fragrance of turps on his top was sexy.
‘He probably thinks you wouldn’t leave me here, if I refused?’
‘No! Absolutely not. I mean … of course I wouldn’t leave you alone even though I’m sure you’d be fine .’ Sam was clearly tying himself in knots. ‘He was only being friendly. They’re like that, the rowing lot. I used to be in the crew until I got wrapped up in this place.’
‘I know the feeling,’ Lily said. ‘I used to meet up for dinner with a group of women from my Pilates class. I enjoyed it but that was over a year ago. After I was too busy to go along five times in a row, I stopped getting invites. I think they started a new WhatsApp group without me and I can hardly blame them.’ She sighed. ‘I need to get in touch again, make a commitment. When I get home.’
‘Why don’t you do it now?’ he said. ‘In just over a week you’ll be back in London.’
Why did he have to remind her of the precise timeframe? Lily was already thinking of how things would be when she went back, the hurtling around and lurching from one task to the next. For some reason, she felt jittery at the prospect.
‘Are you counting the days?’ she said lightly.
‘No. No, of course not,’ Sam said, then frowned. ‘You OK?’
‘Yes. Fine. Apart from the paint smell and all the crouching and climbing. It’s been ages since I got hot and sweaty outside of a gym.’
‘You look great to me,’ he said. ‘We’ve virtually finished the work,’ he added gruffly. ‘Come on, let’s have a break and some air.’
Lily washed her hands, still glowing from his compliment and even more amazed he’d made it, considering what stared back at her from the en suite mirror. She was wearing an oversized pair of decorator’s dungarees over a vest top, her hair tied up with a scrunchie. It was humid and she hadn’t looked so dishevelled for months.
Back outside, Sam stood on the terrace with two chilled bottles from the cottage fridge. The sun shone down half-heartedly through the haze, and the isles and islets seemed to lie becalmed in the glassy sea.
A drink of chilled water helped to cool her down. Samphire really was almost ready, its furniture already in the centre of the room, wrapped in dust sheets and plastic.
‘So, you’ll definitely be coming to the pub?’ Sam asked again, standing beside her.
‘As long as you’re sure your friends won’t mind, then I’d love to.’
His face lit up briefly. ‘Great. Of course they won’t mind … as long as you’re prepared for a bit of banter. I can’t guarantee much tact and diplomacy – especially from Aaron.’
Lily smiled. ‘Oh, I think I can deal with a bit of banter.’
Half an hour later, they’d finished the room. Sam left the doors and windows open and went to clean the trays and brushes while Lily had a quick shower. It was her turn to cook that evening and she was making poisson cru with salad and fries. The fish had been caught by Rory that morning and was already marinating in coconut milk. Cara and étienne had taught her how to make the Polynesian speciality. It was almost the last recipe in Lily’s dwindling repertoire.
Rubbing her hair with a towel, she opened the French doors of her cottage to dry off in the late-afternoon sun.
‘Oh, God!’
Her heart thumped when she saw the message – sign – warning – that had been left on the bistro table.
Someone had carefully arranged beach pebbles into a word:
LEAVE
The hairs on her arms stood on end.
Unless there were some very clever seagulls around, those pebbles couldn’t possibly have found their way there accidentally.
She was ready to run across to Sam’s flat but stopped. He’d probably feel he should gallop to the rescue. He’d worry that Stark wasn’t secure or safe for her and he didn’t need that just when he was pushing on to finish the place.
She didn’t need anyone, least of all him, to take care of her. She’d lived in London for over a decade; she could handle a prankster … even a rogue reporter trying to scare up a story.
If it was a prankster, the message was hardly funny. Someone didn’t want her on the island or else wanted to create trouble.
Lily dismissed the notion and locked her door. Despite her bravado, she was rather relieved that she had been included in the pub excursion. She certainly didn’t fancy staying on Stark on her own.
Thursday’s plan was to eat at the Rock, rather than going back to Stark. She’d thought about taking along her sketch pad, to capture the view of Cromwell’s Castle over the channel between Bryher and Tresco. She decided she didn’t have time and anyway, she didn’t fancy focusing on the gibbet after yesterday’s unpleasant message.
After taking a photo of the pebbles on her phone, she’d gathered them up and thrown them onto the grass outside her room.
During the day, she threw herself into getting hot and sweaty again as she and Sam unpacked and rearranged furniture in Samphire before adding the small stock of artwork, lamps and cushions.
‘Morven’s artwork looks great in here. The cottage needs to be easy to clean and uncluttered, but it is still rather bare. I saw some lovely pieces in the galleries on St Mary’s and at Bryher post office. They’d be a good start. If you have the budget, of course.’
‘I have a small budget, yes,’ Sam said warily.
‘Then would it be OK if I did some shopping for you? I could order some pieces from Lily Loves but we should use local suppliers for preference. I promise I won’t go over budget.’
Finally, he smiled. ‘Oh, I know you won’t.’
Sam had a couple of errands at the dock so Lily found a quiet table outside the Quayside Café and put in a call to Richie via FaceTime.
‘Hello,’ she said, amused to see him lounging with a mug of coffee and looking very comfortable. ‘Is that my office chair?’
‘Yes, I didn’t think you’d mind me using your desktop.’
‘I don’t – have you adjusted my seat?’
‘Of course. I’m a foot taller than you. I promise I’ll set it up for you before you get back, hun.’
‘Make sure you do,’ Lily said then smiled. ‘I’m joking. How’s it going?’
‘OK. Fine. I’ve set up a meeting with that indie gift shop chain. I know you weren’t sure they were the right home for the brand but they seem so keen. And the owner is such a sweetheart. She’s got a gorgeous cockapoo just like Jakob’s. I’ve seen it on their Insta feed. That’s why the business is called Cockahoop,’ Richie explained.
Lily was about to comment that just because someone was a sweetheart and had a gorgeous dog, it didn’t necessarily make them a good business partner, but stopped herself. Richie’s eyes were lit by a zeal that was firing ideas in her brain.
She’d been wrestling with her misgivings about the supermarket deal all morning. Cockahoop was a fraction of the size but might – just might – be a much better fit with the cosiness of her brand. Perhaps Richie’s instincts were more on the money than she’d thought.
‘Are you cross that I said we’d meet them?’ he said anxiously.
‘No, I’m not,’ Lily said, thinking that she could never be cross with a generous soul like him. ‘It can’t do any harm. I didn’t know she’d named the business after her dog. I like it …’
‘So, you want me to delay the Cockahoop meeting until you come back?’ he asked.
‘Why don’t you take it? You can handle it, can’t you?’
‘Well, yes, but …’
‘But what?’
‘Nothing. Only normally you like to be on top of every detail.’
‘Richie, I’m supposed to be on holiday – a holiday that you practically forced me to take.’ She added with a smile, ‘I’m joking again, though as we’re discussing the issue, you’ve handled everything that’s come your way perfectly well. As you seem to have a rapport with Cockahoop, I think you should call them and set up an initial meeting. Now, you go home to Jakob. I’m off to the pub.’
His jaw dropped before he said, ‘Off to the pub? At five p.m.?’
‘Yes. For fish and chips and a night out with a hunky rowing crew. You’d love it,’ she added mischievously.
‘Too right I would!’ he exclaimed, then added, ‘ If I wasn’t in a very meaningful relationship already, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘Try to send photos though …’ Richie’s voice had a hopeful lilt.
Lily cut the FaceTime, enjoying the open-mouthed amazement of her PA a little too much. Her stay had shown her that the world wouldn’t end without her – that for a while, at least, her team could handle things better than she’d dared to hope.
While she was delighted and relieved to see how well they were doing, she couldn’t help but wish she’d trusted them enough to delegate more in the past. She might not have missed quite so much of her own life if she had.