Robin gave her a grateful smile. ‘Thanks, Molly. Thanks for talking it all through with me, for stopping me from going mad.’
‘Hey. It was my ridiculousness, my text, that created this situation in the first place. It’s my duty as your friend to help you clear it up. But for now, let out Starcross. Did you get his security number for the payment?’
Robin stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. ‘I didn’t get a chance. I’ll have to text him.’ The thought of asking him such a perfunctory question via text made her slightly nauseous, but she didn’t have a choice.
‘Try not to worry about it,’ Molly said. ‘He’s angry, but he’s a decent guy. He’ll pay up, and then you can get on with running the guesthouse while he cools off. At least he’s still in Campion Bay, and if the house is still a tip then I doubt he’s going anywhere any time soon.’
‘I’ve got time,’ Robin murmured. Molly’s words about Will cutting off his nose to spite his face had started her thinking. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to talk to her now, to accept her apology, but would he turn down a package from the guesthouse; a few creature comforts to make sleeping and eating at Tabitha’s house more bearable? Could she appeal to him in that way?
Molly nodded. ‘I’ll go round in the next couple of days, explain about the campaign misunderstanding, add my weight to your cause – if you think that would help? In the meantime, you’d best get on with things here and let it all play out in his head. He’ll soon realise that what you’ve done isn’t all that bad, and that you deserve his forgiveness.’
Robin looked down at her phone, thinking it would be better to text Will now and get it out of the way, and tried to imagine Starcross with a new guest staying in it. ‘Do you want a hot chocolate?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got marshmallows, and cookies.’
‘Why didn’t you say so earlier?’ Molly laughed. ‘Bring on the comfort food.’
The next day Robin took her friend’s advice and threw herself into running the guesthouse. The May day was blustery, but it wasn’t raining any more, and the damp pavements were drying, the sand at the top of the beach fading to pale, soft gold that Robin could imagine beneath her feet.
Katy and Dean were off on their wildlife boat tour, and over breakfast were making a list of all the things they were hoping to see.
‘I’d love to see puffins. Do you get them down here?’ Katy looked up expectantly.
Robin screwed her nose up. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe. If there’s one thing I’m not very good on, it’s the wildlife around here.’
‘I want to see an osprey,’ said Dean.
Katy rolled her eyes. ‘Trust you! And a shark, no doubt. How about a whale?’
Dean pursed his lips, considering this. ‘They must pass along this way sometimes, when they get lost.’
‘Oh my God. Talk about high expectations! When we see a couple of seagulls and a bit of driftwood, you’re going to want your money back.’
‘Trust me. This trip is going to be awesome.’ He gave his girlfriend such a confident look that Robin almost believed he would be able to conjure up giant sea creatures. She felt a stab of envy, longing for the wind in her hair and sea spray on her face.
‘You know,’ Paige said, as they tidied up the kitchen after breakfast, ‘I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never been on a boat trip around the coast.’
Robin stared at her. ‘Never? Not even when there was that dodgy little charter that moored up next to the crazy golf and puttered up to the cliffs and back?’
‘When was that?’ Paige frowned, pulling her ponytail tighter.
‘Ah. It was when I was a teenager. Sorry, I always forget that—’
‘That I’m sixteen?’ Paige asked. She smiled, shaking her head slowly. ‘Yeah, I wasn’t out of nappies when you went off to university. Maybe you’re starting to get me confused with Mum. Can you get dementia in your thirties?’
‘Haha.’ Robin threw a tea towel in Paige’s direction. She could see so much of Molly’s cheekiness in her daughter, and knew that she would be able to achieve whatever she wanted to. Luckily for Robin, at the moment that meant working for her at the guesthouse when she didn’t need to be in college.
‘Adam and his friends hired a boat to investigate the caves once,’ Paige said. ‘The ones you can’t get to from the beach even at low tide, a lot further round the cliffs. I didn’t fancy it. It sounded like a recipe for disaster.’
‘You’re wise beyond your years. I assume they all came back safely?’
‘They did, but I’m not sure how far they actually got. Adam says they saw loads, and that it was really interesting, but I reckon they chickened out pretty early. You’d have to be skilled to get boats inside some of those caves without smashing against the rock.’
‘Ugh!’ Robin shuddered, thinking of the wild beach and its dark, snug recesses in the cliffs. That inevitably reminded her that she’d taken Will there, only two days before, and that she’d started to open up to him. She wanted him to know that she’d already told him more than she’d told most people, and that of course he could trust her, but she’d got things spectacularly wrong.
‘I’m off now then,’ Paige said, waving her hand in Robin’s face.
Robin blinked her daydreams away. ‘Thanks so much, Paige. See you tomorrow.’
Once Paige had left and the guesthouse settled into quiet, Robin took a deep breath and climbed up to the third floor. It was time to get Starcross ready for new guests. She’d been putting it off, but she had to accept that Will was gone and right now it looked as though he wasn’t coming back.
The room was sparkling by the time she’d finished, the telescope gleaming, all signs that Will and Darcy had ever been there gone. Bundling the linen and towels into the washing machine, Robin turned to the small wicker hamper on the kitchen table.
It was empty at the moment, but she set about filling it with luxury teabags, a few packets of biscuits and a bag of chocolate coffee beans that she’d meant to put in Sea Shanty for the guests to help themselves to. She added mini bottles of the toiletries she put in every bathroom and then, smiling to herself, popped in a packet of the mature cheddar she loved so much, a small jar of Hellman’s mayonnaise and a fat, silky garlic bulb.
It was a slightly odd hamper, but she hoped Will would appreciate it, would understand what she was trying to do and at least be able to accept this small token of apology from her. Before she had time to think whether or not it was a sensible idea, Robin raced outside, put it on his front doorstep and ran back to the guesthouse, feeling like a schoolgirl who had almost been caught playing knock down ginger.
Throughout the week Robin made the guesthouse gleam, using all the energy that she had begun to spend on being with Will, helping Will, thinking about Will. Now, she treated the Campion Bay Guesthouse as her most prized possession, and gave it all her attention. She made more midnight cookies, perfected a Canadian stack recipe of thin crepes, streaky bacon, blueberries and maple syrup that she would serve as a special on Sundays, and burned a vanilla lime Yankee candle in Sea Shanty while she drew up plans for marketing campaigns and special offers.
The weather was getting warmer, and she started opening the windows, filling the guesthouse with the crisp, seaside air and the sound of the waves that she found so irresistible. She revisited Seagull Street Gallery and spent a full ten minutes standing in front of Arthur Durrant’s new nightscape, drinking in the textures, the sensation of night drawing in around her, the dots of white paint that so clearly became twinkling lights in the darkness. She left invigorated, and with five new miniature paintings in her jute bag, one for each of the bedrooms. They were all