‘I’m not an advocate, you’re the one who brought it up.’
‘It was hard not to,’ Tim said. ‘This house is full of memories.’ He glanced around the hall, as if picturing how it had looked all those years ago. ‘I seem to remember we had lots of opportunities to get better.’
Robin swallowed. ‘We did.’ While the memory of their first time together was sweet and nostalgic, and held no lingering feelings of passion for her, there were plenty of memories that did. She was finding that, though she’d spent less than an hour with him since she’d been back, those feelings were being brought to the surface, like a stick churning the mud up from the bottom of a lake. They were swirling through her, clouding her thoughts, not entirely welcome.
‘Robin,’ Tim murmured, his face close to hers.
‘I need to get on, I need to check everything’s ready for the guests.’
‘You’ve not shown me the rooms yet.’
‘Another time,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sorry, I know you’ve come here specially, that you’ve brought champagne.’
‘I can bring more,’ he said easily. ‘Just tell me when.’
She nodded. ‘I appreciate you coming round today.’
‘I wouldn’t miss it. Now that we’re reacquainted, I feel like I want to know more about the last fourteen years. I want us to get to know each other again.’
‘I do too,’ Robin whispered, his eyes on her suddenly uncomfortable. She forced herself to look at him, at the linen shirt, his blond curls and his open, easy expression. She wanted to move forward with her life, to start a new chapter, but Robin was in danger of being dragged backwards by her ex-boyfriend, whether deliberately or not. As he said goodbye, giving her another warm, lingering kiss on the cheek, and Robin was left standing alone in the hall, she wondered how much danger she was actually in.
Robin had never been able to resist Tim. Only the pain of him being unfaithful while they were trying to make long-distance love work had been devastating enough to sever her attachment to him all those years ago. Now, despite the growing up she’d done, and all that she’d been through, she felt herself weakening in his presence. But she wasn’t convinced the feelings were real, as opposed to simply the cosy nostalgia of happy memories. She felt all at once like the grown-up, thirty-three-year-old Tim was a complete stranger, and equally, that she knew every inch of him.
But she had to push thoughts of Tim aside. In twenty-four hours’ time her first guests would be arriving at the new and improved Campion Bay Guesthouse, landlady Ms Robin Brennan, ably supported on breakfasts and changeovers by Paige Westwood, with Eclipse the kitten adding the cute factor. Suddenly worried that the kitten had strayed somewhere he shouldn’t have, Robin left Molly and Paige quietly bickering upstairs and went to seek out the newest member of the Brennan household.
‘Mr and Mrs Barker.’ Robin smiled up at the couple as she stood in front of the computer and clicked through to their reservation. ‘So lovely to see you.’ Her palms were sweaty, as they had been all day, and she felt like she’d had a whole pot of coffee to herself, despite having stuck to a single cup when she’d woken at six o’clock after a restless night. This was it, her guests were checking in; there was no time to turn back.
‘Sea’s looking pretty choppy today,’ Mrs Barker said in response. ‘Bracing.’
‘It is,’ Robin agreed. ‘The wind’s up a bit.’ She clicked that her guests had arrived, and a confirmation sheet printed out on the sleek black printer behind her. ‘Are you planning on swimming?’ She placed the paper in front of them. ‘If you could check the details and give me a signature, I can show you to your room.’
‘Love to swim in the sea,’ Mrs Barker confirmed, while her husband leaned his wide frame over the paper, squinting slightly. ‘It’s always biting where we live in Wales, so the south coast should be a welcome change.’
‘You have lovely beaches in Wales, though.’
‘Oh yes,’ Mrs Barker said. ‘Some of the best.’
Robin filed the completed confirmation sheet, and took the keys to Andalusia out of the drawer of the wooden desk. The hall had never been wide enough to house a proper reception area, so she’d continued her parents’ tradition of having a desk and computer station in the living room – now Sea Shanty – where the keys and paperwork were kept. Mr and Mrs Barker stepped back, allowing her to lead the way.
‘We have got a tiny lift,’ she said, ‘or we can take the stairs up to the second floor.’
‘Stairs are fine,’ Mr Barker confirmed, hefting his Barbour bag on to his shoulder.
‘Can I take anything?’ Robin asked.
‘Oh no, we’re fine, aren’t we, love?’
‘That we are.’
They both had tanned, weatherworn faces, and their clothes were smart but practical, their jackets and boots indicating that they worked outside, riding or gardening or managing country estates. Robin wondered if they owned a huge, secluded mansion in North Wales, with meticulous rose gardens, acres of grassland and a river running through a woody copse. ‘Good-oh,’ she said quickly, snapping herself back to reality. ‘If you’d like to follow me, then.’
When she opened the bedroom door, allowing Mr and Mrs Barker to go in first, she couldn’t help but grin. Mr Barker’s reaction was subtle, his eyebrows shooting skywards, but his wife clapped her hands together in glee.
‘It’s even better than the photo,’ she said, turning in a slow circle.
‘I’m so glad you approve,’ Robin rushed, her heartbeat beginning to return to normal.
Andalusia was the boldest of her bedrooms, with its rustic styling, red and burnished orange fabrics and dark wood furniture. The sun was streaming through the window, adding to the impression of being in another country, and Robin thought she couldn’t have picked a more perfect moment to invite her guests in.
‘This is incredible,’ Mrs Barker said, running her hands over the red-and-gold runner at the end of the bed. ‘You’d hardly believe you were in Dorset if it wasn’t for the view outside. Have you spent lots of time in Andalusia?’
‘I’ve never been there,’ Robin admitted, ‘but I’ve heard a lot about it.’ Neve had promised to take her there, to show her the narrow streets and old churches of the Pueblos Blancos, but with Once in a Blue Moon Days getting off the ground, it had never happened. ‘A friend of mine was born in the area, and she made it sound so magical. I know you don’t have the amazing Spanish hills outside the window, but Campion Bay beach is beautiful in its own right, and this way you get a sense of the exotic alongside the English seaside.’
‘I don’t suppose it comes with a Spanish breakfast as well?’ Mr Barker sat in the nook in the window and peered out at the sea. Robin had made sure that the window seats, a feature of every room except Starcross, were as snug as possible, but she thought Mr Barker was perhaps too big to make full use of this one. She couldn’t imagine him leaning back against the cushions, his feet up on the padding, reading glasses perched, owl-like, on the end of his nose.
‘I’ve got tostadas on the menu, with tomato and olive oil,’ Robin said. ‘Or you can have your scrambled eggs with avocados, chorizo and a dash of Tabasco sauce. All the information is in the folder on the chest of drawers: fire procedures, breakfast times – as well as the menu – and ideas for things to do in the area. If you need anything at all, or have any questions, then please ask. I’m usually around, but my mobile number is in the folder if you can’t find me. I hope you enjoy your stay.’
‘Thank