Summer at Coastguard Cottages. Jennifer Bohnet

do the food for you.’

      Bruce squeezed her arm gratefully. ‘Talking of food, shall we turn round and get to the pub? I’m starving.’

      By the time they got back to the pub the lunchtime rush was starting. Karen managed to grab a couple of seats at a window table while Bruce went to the bar to order and get their drinks. Half a lager for him and a glass of wine for her.

      The pub had been one of her parents’ favourite lunchtime haunts and she remembered them dragging both her and her brother for lunchtime fish and chips whenever they were in Devon. They’d never complained about coming, even if as teenagers they’d found their parents’ company boring. The fish and chips were always worth it.

      It was ages, though, since she’d eaten here. When Derek was down he always insisted on going to the fish restaurant in Dartmouth, and on her own she could rarely be bothered to drive out this way.

      Derek. A few more days and he’d be here. Still no news on how long he was planning to stay. This last week being away from him had made her realise just how hyper-sensitive and tense she was whenever he was around. A fleeting visit would suit her better. Then she could relax and enjoy Wills’ company – and Francesca’s when she arrived.

      ‘You’re looking very serious,’ Bruce said, placing her glass of wine in front of her. ‘Did someone upset you?’

      ‘No,’ Karen said. ‘I was just thinking about…’ She hesitated, searching for something to say. She couldn’t tell Bruce yet what she’d really been thinking. ‘Food for when Wills gets here. Planning a welcome home dinner is a serious business. Cheers.’ Karen picked up her drink and took a sip. ‘You promised to tell me more about your plans today?’

      ‘I’m thinking of moving to The Bosun’s Locker permanently,’ Bruce said. ‘Selling my flat and doing something Gabby and I swore we’d never do – renovate something down here. I’ve seen a townhouse I rather fancy as a project. We liked keeping the business and our private lives separate, but now…’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t want to stay in town, or in the apartment with its memories, and I love it down here, so why not?’ He looked at Karen anxiously, seeking her reassurance.

      ‘Gosh. There are memories associated with the cottage and Gabby as well, though,’ Karen said. ‘You’ll have to live with those.’

      ‘I know. But I feel somehow it will be easier not having lived full-time down here. At least I won’t be sitting around staring at the wall, wondering what I’m going to do. Like I have been for the past months.’

      Before Karen could answer, the waitress arrived with their lunch, carefully placing the plates on the table before asking, ‘Is there anything else? More drinks?’

      When they both shook their heads and muttered ‘No thanks’, she beamed at them, said ‘Enjoy your meal’, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

      For several minutes the two of them concentrated on their fish and chips, enjoying them while they were hot.

      ‘You don’t have to stare at the walls in town. You could buy somewhere else in a different area and carry on with your business up there,’ Karen said eventually.

      ‘I know, but dealing with the same builders and interior designers, not to mention planning officers, will just serve to keep reminding me Gabby’s gone. Whereas down here I’d have to find a completely new team, deal with new officials, etcetera. I’m sure it would be easier.’

      ‘You could be right. But it’s a big change.’

      ‘It’ll take time to organise, of course. Selling the apartment, buying the townhouse. Probably be next year before it all came together.’

      ‘Putting business aside: what about friends and a social life? I know there’s lots going on out at the cottages in summer but winter is quiet.’

      ‘I’ve already got a few friends down here, so I’m sure I can build on that,’ Bruce said. ‘I’ll probably make more of an effort to socialise once I’m down here permanently.’

      Karen picked up her wine glass and took a sip. ‘That last remark makes it sound as though you’ve made up your mind to do it.’

      Bruce, realising what he’d said, smiled and picked up his lager. ‘You know what? I think I might have. God only knows whether it’s the right thing to do or not, but I’m going to give it my best shot. Cheers.’

      ‘Good luck. Here’s to the future.’

      As Karen clinked glasses with Bruce, he said, ‘Thanks for listening. It always helps to have someone to bounce ideas off.’

      ‘You’re welcome any time,’ Karen said.

      Bruce hesitated. ‘I’m more than willing to be a sounding board for you too, if you ever need it,’ he said quietly, looking at her. ‘I know you used to talk to Gabby – not that she ever told me what you talked about,’ he added quickly.

      Karen drained her glass before replacing it on the table. ‘I know, thank you, but I’m good at the moment.’ And she smiled brightly at him. No point in talking to anyone until she’d worked out in her own head which way she wanted to go.

      Bruce was right. She had talked to Gabby occasionally in the past, woman to woman, but it would be good to get a man’s unbiased point of view on things that were going on in her life. Sometime this summer she would talk about the logistics of her life with Bruce, knowing he would tell her the truth and give her sound advice, but today was not the day.

      ‘Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me,’ Bruce said. ‘Now, how about dessert? I see they’ve got my favourite on the menu – apple pie and clotted cream.’