The Once in a Blue Moon Guesthouse: The perfect feelgood romance

‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘I did. No two days were the same, always a new challenge, always meeting new people. Being a guide is fun, as long as the guests are vaguely interested. You can measure your success by how many of them are still maintaining eye-contact at the end of the tour.’

‘Did you make things up?’ Robin took a sip of her coffee but it was too hot, and she spluttered, spilling some over her hand. She put her mug on the table and sucked at the scald.

‘Here,’ Will said, pressing a paper napkin into her free hand. ‘Are you OK?’

Robin nodded, stopped sucking the injury like a small child and wiped at it with the napkin.

‘Make things up?’ he asked. ‘You mean on the tours?’

‘You know, embellish the stories, add a few more juicy details.’

Will shook his head slowly. ‘I can’t believe you’d even ask that. Of course not. People come to find out about the history of the house, not hear some sensation-filled fabrication.’

Robin felt a flush of shame, but she could see that he was amused by the suggestion. She took another, tentative sip of her coffee. ‘At least your love of old buildings will help you today,’ she said softly.

Will winced, lines forming at the edges of his eyes. ‘Clearing out an empty house isn’t quite the same thing.’

‘So do you know how long you’ll be down here? Will you have to find another job, or can you focus on next door?’ Robin knew that she was firing too many questions at him, that it was none of her business, but she had such a strong desire to know. Now he was sitting at her table, he could give her more insight into Tabitha and into her house, which suddenly seemed the object of so many people’s attention.

Will leaned down to stroke the top of Darcy’s head. ‘I have no idea how long it’ll take, but if it stretches into months, if I’m making slow progress, then I’ll have to start looking for something round here. I knew I’d need space away from everything to make a proper start. I didn’t want the pressure of employers waiting for me, however reasonable they were about it.’

‘I can understand that,’ she said quietly. She watched him sip his coffee, drawn to his forearms, tanned and with a dusting of pale brown hair. It looked like he spent a lot of time outside, and Robin could picture him leading a group of awed tourists across a beautiful garden, an impressive stately home behind them – it fitted much better than the Barbour and the wellies, though Darcy was still in place, trotting loyally alongside. He had the presence to be a tour guide. She could see him commanding everyone, holding their attention with his green eyes. Especially, she thought wryly, the females of the party.

‘Have you run the guesthouse for long?’ Will asked, startling her out of her reverie.

‘Nearly twenty-four hours,’ Robin said, laughing at Will’s confused expression. ‘It reopened officially yesterday, with me at the helm. My mum and dad ran it for years, but they’ve moved to France and … well, now it’s my turn.’

‘Wow.’ Will’s eyebrows went skywards. ‘So this morning was your first time cooking everyone breakfast? You look like you’ve barely broken a sweat.’

‘I helped Mum and Dad out over the years, so I was more prepared than someone starting from scratch, and I’ve got my friend’s daughter working with me. Your breakfast is actually an Instagram star.’ She took out her phone and showed him.

‘That’s an accolade I never thought I’d get – devourer of a famous breakfast.’

‘You’d better remember this moment,’ she grinned.

‘Pretty sure I will,’ he said quietly, and her smile faltered under the weight of his stare. ‘Unflappable even when I turned up at midnight on your first day. But it must have been much more of a disruption than I imagined. I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologizing. I had a room, I was still awake, and you didn’t put me out at all. Though I can’t claim to have been entirely unflappable.’

Now it was Will’s turn to grin. ‘Maybe not. The room is great. Very calming. The pinprick lights especially. Did you know that if you stare at them for too long it looks like they’re twinkling?’

‘I didn’t,’ she said. ‘But maybe that suggests it’s not a good idea? I don’t want you suing me for eye damage. I haven’t actually spent much time in there, it was the last one we finished and it went right up to the wire. What did you think it was going to be like – when I told you my rooms were unique? You didn’t want to say last night.’

Will held her gaze, his fingers drumming on the glass tabletop. ‘Honestly?’

Robin nodded.

‘I was imagining, y’know, red satin sheets and a heart-shaped bed, maybe some fluffy handcuffs.’

Robin gasped. ‘Handcuffs?’ she squealed, and then, remembering how small the garden was, lowered her voice. ‘Is that the impression I gave, answering the door to you last night?’

‘No, of course not,’ Will said, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. ‘But you looked so panicked when I asked about a room, and then you said they were “unique” in this mysterious voice and then stood outside the door for so long, as if you didn’t want me to go in. What was I supposed to think?’

‘Well, now I know which direction your mind wanders, I’ll be more careful.’ She shook her head scornfully, but a smile was threatening. She could see how she had come across as over-concerned, perhaps even a little bit unhinged.

‘Hey,’ Will laughed. ‘Come on. I was glad to be proved wrong. It would have been too much, on top of the late drive down, Tabitha’s house and the leak, to then be offered a different kind of service when you let me in. I slept like a baby, and I’m looking forward to using that telescope to check out the real stars later, if you’re happy for me to stay another night?’

‘Of course,’ Robin said. ‘I have no bookings in that room immediately, so stay as long as you need to. Though, I should remind you that Bear Grylls would have any leak fixed within twenty-four hours.’

‘Yeah,’ Will said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head, ‘but I’m not under as much pressure as he usually is. And now I’ve got this cosy guesthouse bedroom to stay in, with fantastic cooked breakfasts every morning, I’m wondering if maybe the leak will turn out to be really difficult to repair.’

His face lit up with a lazy, easy grin, his eyes catching hers and holding on, and Robin felt her cheeks bunch into a smile. She wondered if, maybe, she wanted the leak to take a long time to fix as well.

‘So what happens now, Bear?’

Will dropped his arms, running a hand through his short hair and leaving it tufty like an unruly hedgehog. ‘Now I have to stop sitting in the sunshine chatting to you, and go and see what Tabitha’s house looks like in daylight. I can’t say it’s the most appealing prospect.’

‘Well.’ Robin stood and picked up the empty mugs and the milk jug. ‘This is not a service I was planning to offer, but I’m not going anywhere today, so if you need a refreshment break I’ll do you tea or coffee, maybe even lunch if you’d like it.’

‘You will?’ He stood too, bending briefly and holding his hand out towards Darcy, who got slowly up and padded after him, obedient as ever. ‘That would be beyond generous.’

‘It’s only until you get a kettle set up in the house.’

‘Of course. You’ve just made today a lot brighter.’ He followed her inside. She could sense him behind her, could hear the patter of Darcy’s paws on the linoleum.

‘It’s just a sandwich and a cup of tea,’ Robin said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Will stopped in the doorway, almost filling it. ‘Believe me, when you’re faced with clearing out your dead aunt’s four-storey house that’s been empty for over a year and has accumulated a leak and at least fifty thousand cobwebs, a cup of tea isn’t “just” anything.’

Robin began to dry the mugs, soaking up his gratitude and, if she was honest, the pleasing sight of him standing in her doorway. ‘If you’d gone down to Mrs Harris at the Seaview Hotel you wouldn’t be getting this treatment.’

‘I picked the right place then,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Robin. Is it OK if I come begging for my first cup of tea in about twenty-five minutes?’

‘Don’t push it,’ she warned, but as she listened to her unexpected guest climb the stairs, followed by his curly-haired and completely adorable companion, she realized she would be happy to make him as many cups of tea as he wanted. Not only because she’d enjoyed the brief amount of time she’d spent in his company, but also because she hadn’t been inside Tabitha’s house for years, and she still felt bad about not making more of an effort to see her on her fleeting return visits from London.

She wanted to see the task that Will was faced with. She wanted to see if the house brought back any childhood memories, to find out how her loving and eccentric neighbour had lived the last years of her life, and whether there were any clues, any proof as to the origin of the plaque on the wall. Despite the promise of fifty thousand cobwebs, she was desperate to see inside number four Goldcrest Road.

Chapter 6 (#ulink_654db3b5-cdfe-5ab6-9592-bd213f496bc2)

Robin pressed her hand against the blue plaque next to the tall, black front door with the brass knocker and remembered, when she’d been much smaller, standing up on tiptoes to try and touch the cool, smooth surface. Now it was level with her shoulder. She read the familiar words: JaneAusten, 1775–1817, Noted Novelist, stayedhereduringthesummerof1804.

Why would it be here if it wasn’t true? Why was everyone so sceptical about it? It wasn’t just Molly who laughed it off whenever she mentioned it; her mum and dad had never entirely believed it, and Tim had always rolled his eyes. She’d read Persuasion, and lots of it was set in Dorset. Lyme Regis with its Cobb wasn’t far away, so surely it was plausible. And what reason could Tabitha have had to fabricate it? Maybe, now that Will was here, with his knowledge of historical houses, they would be able to get to the bottom of it. Maybe he knew the truth already.

She lifted the brass knocker to announce her arrival, but the heavy door moved forward a fraction and Robin realized it wasn’t closed. She pushed it slowly inwards, peering into the gloom.

The first thing that she noticed was the dust. The air was thick with it, dancing in the shaft of sunlight she’d let in, and there was a pervading smell of damp.