Fully Booked – Part 2

‘So all that remains,’ Mrs Barker said, ‘is to work out how to get your kitten out from under the bed.’

‘I’m pretty sure I can solve that one. Give me a moment.’ Robin squeezed Neil’s arm reassuringly as she left the room and set off down the stairs, silently berating herself for letting her guests get in that situation. She didn’t know how she could stop Eclipse exploring when the bedroom doors were open; she’d have to be stricter about where he could go when she was out of the house, when she wouldn’t be available to deal with any issues that arose. She collected the pot of cat treats from the kitchen cupboard and hurried back to Rockpool, shaking it as she crouched on the floor.

Within two seconds the kitten appeared, his front paws clawing into the rug to pull himself out from his hiding space. He purred loudly, his eyes shut in contentment as he wound himself around her, as if to prove that he was the loveliest and most well-behaved cat in the world.

‘You little terror,’ she said, and then to her guests: ‘I’m sorry to have caused you so much upset.’

Catriona knelt next to her and stroked Eclipse. ‘You haven’t, honestly. I was just worried he’d be stuck under there for ever, and I’m so sorry about the wall.’

‘Please don’t be,’ Robin urged. ‘I can have that patched up in no time. Don’t feel bad about my cat’s terrible behaviour. I’ll take him downstairs before he can cause any more damage.’ She lifted Eclipse into her arms and he went limp, looking up at her adoringly. ‘What a suck-up. Let me fix you afternoon tea to make up for this, I’ve bought some fresh cream cakes that I shouldn’t eat all by myself.’

Mrs Barker sighed. ‘It sounds lovely, but I’ve got to go and retrieve my husband. I left him talking to a local fisherman on the beach an hour ago, and we’re meant to be walking into town this evening.’

‘I’ll have a cake,’ Catriona said. ‘I must have used up a few hundred calories wiggling backwards and forwards under the bed.’

Robin took Eclipse downstairs and was arranging the cakes on a plate when her phone buzzed with a message from Molly: Will is going to love it here. Debrief soon. Xx

Robin’s stomach flipped over. Will Nightingale had turned up, bedraggled and looking for shelter, on Robin’s doorstep the night before. She’d discovered that he was the nephew of Tabitha, who had lived in number four Goldcrest Road, the house next to hers, until her death the year before. With Will requesting a room, she’d been forced to break the seal on her most special room, Starcross, and let him and his adorable Cavapoo, Darcy, stay in it. As soon as she’d mentioned him to Molly earlier that day, her friend had come up with a plan to convince Will not to sell his aunt’s house, surreptitiously showing him how wonderful Campion Bay was so he’d never want to leave. Molly had given her plan the ridiculous name Campaign Tawtaw, and from her text Robin thought her friend must have already started to put that plan into action.

She’d known Will for less than a day, and yet in that time Robin had offered to help him sort through his aunt’s house, had gone above and beyond the role of fledgeling guesthouse owner, and had – if she was being perfectly honest with herself – spent rather a lot of time thinking about the man with the toffee-coloured hair and startlingly green eyes.

Because of this, she was uncomfortable that Molly wanted to go behind his back to try to convince him not to sell. She would prefer him to stay, but felt that it made sense to tell him outright what was going on.

And if she was a part of her friend’s plan, didn’t that mean that she, too, was going behind Tim’s back? Tim Lewis had been her childhood sweetheart growing up in Campion Bay and, since her return, had begun to show a renewed interested in her, despite the inauspicious way their relationship had ended. He was sniffing around number four Goldcrest Road with his property-developer mindset, which was why Molly had suggested getting Will inadvertently on their side, playing Tim at his own ruthless game.

She tapped out a reply to her friend. What are you doing? Don’t be too obvious. She shouldn’t be encouraging Molly at all – she should tell her that she wasn’t going to have any part of it. But Molly was her closest friend, and she didn’t want to risk upsetting their friendship. She was also concerned that if she told Will about Tim’s plans for his aunt’s house, he might be encouraged to take him up on whatever he was offering, especially after seeing the state of the house for herself earlier that day. Shoving her phone back in her trouser pocket she took a tray of cakes and tea to Neil and Catriona.

Once her guests had all returned in a flurry of activity and then left again for their various evening entertainments, Robin put her dinner in the oven and sat on the stool in front of the old upright piano in Sea Shanty. She’d had it tuned, the dust on the keys removed, the wood polished until it gleamed. She had hardly played since she’d been back in Campion Bay, and not at all when she’d lived in London, so to say she was rusty was an understatement.

She pressed middle C, let the sound echo out in the quiet room, and then pressed D. At least with a piano the individual notes sounded good even if you didn’t know what you were doing. With a wind instrument, the hesitation came out with each breath. She thought back to the tunes she had once known off by heart: ‘Chopsticks’, ‘The Entertainer’, and the Beverly Hills Cop theme she’d learnt from a boy at primary school.

The memories seemed to have stayed in her fingers, if not her head, and while she was far from note-perfect, she found that the sound she was making wasn’t awful. Eclipse didn’t move from his position on the sofa, which she took as a good sign, and it was only when the smoke alarm went off that she realised she’d played through the timer.

‘Shit!’ She ran into the kitchen, which was now impersonating a horror film set, the smoke thick and acrid. Shoving on the oven glove, she took out what was left of her chicken Kiev and put it on the thermo-mat. It was a shrivelled, sizzling black lump, the potatoes boiled dry and foul-smelling in their saucepan. She flapped at the smoke alarm to shut it up, left the ruined food to cool down and began grating some cheddar.

‘Bonfires usually take place outside, you know.’

Robin jumped and turned to see Will standing in the doorway. She had taken him a cup of tea that morning, while he was trying to sort out the leak in Tabitha’s house that had resulted in him appearing on her doorstep in the first place. He had looked messy then, but now he was a complete wreck. His T-shirt’s original colour was unguessable, his face was a mixture of grime and sweat, and his hair was flattened and dusty. But his green eyes shone out at her, despite his obvious weariness.

‘How many rounds did you go with the house?’ she asked. ‘Not that it matters, you clearly lost.’

Will gave her a triumphant smile. ‘I won, actually. The plumbing is fixed for now, though at some point I’ll need to get a professional to take a look at it. And I’ve cleared one of the rooms to an acceptable level. Six bin bags and a year’s worth of dirt later, my first day’s work is done. And it wouldn’t have gone nearly so smoothly without refreshment breaks, so thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she said. ‘It sounds like you’ve made lots of progress. Though I, uhm …’ she gestured towards him ‘… not sure about the new look.’ She didn’t want to be rude, but she’d spent a lot of time getting her guesthouse up to a luxurious standard, and she didn’t know how much of the grime on his clothes was indelible grease.

He glanced down and then looked at her, aghast. ‘God, I’m so sorry. How about I leave these clothes next door? I haven’t tried the shower yet, though, so if I could …’ He pointed in the vague direction of Starcross.

‘Of course,’ Robin said hurriedly. ‘And you don’t have to leave your clothes next door. But if you could maybe get changed in here?’ She gestured to the kitchen. ‘I can find you a robe, I’m sure.’

‘Oh. No problem.’ He moved carefully into the kitchen, passing her, and Robin set off down the hall, abandoning her half-grated cheese. The door to her bedroom was opposite the door into Sea Shanty. She stood inside and looked frantically around for the robe she’d promised him, her eyes falling on the short, silk summer dressing gown, navy with silvery stars covering it, hanging on the wardrobe door.

‘Shit.’

There were towelling robes in all of the bedrooms, but that would mean going up to Starcross. She hurried back into the hall, trying to remember if there was a spare in Sea Shanty that she could give to Will, and almost ran straight into him. He was heading towards the stairs, carrying his clothes in a bundle, and she found herself very close to his broad chest. Her eyes followed it down, to his toned stomach and then a hint of red boxers behind the clothes and boots in his arms.

‘Sorry!’ she squeaked, dragging her gaze up to meet his.

‘You disappeared.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘I thought I could sneak away unnoticed. That’s failed, clearly.’

‘Yes, well, you wouldn’t have wanted my robe anyway. It wouldn’t have covered much more …’ Her voice trailed off and she felt her cheeks turn as red as his boxer shorts.

He cleared his throat. ‘Do you want any help with your bonfire when I come down?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s beyond rescuing. I’m going for cheese on toast, if you want any? I wasn’t sure if you had plans for tonight.’ Apart from standing half-naked in my hallway. He didn’t seem that embarrassed, certainly nowhere near as flustered as she was, and she was the one who’d asked him to strip in the first place.

‘No plans,’ he said. ‘I’ve not got enough energy to hit the nightspots of Campion Bay, whatever those might be. I didn’t realise you offered a restaurant service.’

‘Only cheese on toast,’ she blurted, and then added weakly: ‘It’s my specialty.’

‘I’d love some. Give me ten minutes?’ He glanced down apologetically and Robin nodded, dropping her gaze to the floor. Darcy was sitting quietly between them, her brown eyes wide with curiosity, and Robin’s blush went deeper.

‘Take as long as you need.’ She heard him climb the stairs and then, despite the strong urge to see what the boxers looked like from behind, when she was sure he’d turned the corner to the second flight, raised her head and exhaled. She would have to tell him about Molly’s plan to charm him into staying. She couldn’t bear the thought of lying to him; there was something about Will Nightingale – a man who was comfortable talking to her in only his boxer shorts – that demanded honesty.

The sun had picked that Sunday evening to set spectacularly, bold streaks of peach and fuchsia lighting up the sky, highlighting the dark waves with a golden edge. Robin and Will stood side by side in Sea Shantywatching it, with the window open and the sound of the waves filling their awed, slightly uncomfortable, silence.

‘Sunsets never look this impressive in London,’ Will said eventually. ‘Mainly because there just isn’t as much sky. The buildings dilute the effect.’

‘It is a hazard, living down here,’ Robin admitted. ‘Being in sight of the sea the whole time means there’s always something interesting to watch. I could spend entire days standing here, watching boats pass or the different cloud formations, or just people walking by on their way to the beach or town.’

‘Ah, people watching.’ Will nodded knowingly. ‘One of the greatest pastimes.’

‘I expect you got to do a lot of that, working at a stately home?’

‘I did,’ Will said. ‘Meeting new people was one of the best parts of the job. You’re ideally placed for human observation too – inviting guests into what is essentially your home.’

‘I am,’ Robin said, surprised. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that. But, let’s face it, only a day in and I’ve already had a few interesting things happen.’

She felt Will shift slightly beside her. ‘I take it you’re referring to the imbecile who turned up on your doorstep at midnight looking like he’d just gone for a swim.’

‘Well, there’s that,’ Robin said, smiling.

‘And, Robin, about before. I really did think I had time to get upstairs.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s forgotten. Well, not forgotten, but – I had a cat saga this afternoon. I’m going to have to get used to eventful days.’

‘Catsaga?’ Will turned to her, his brows lowered. His hair was fluffy after his shower and, she assumed, some extensive towel drying, and she realised that the frown didn’t sit well on his face. Maybe it was because it obscured his eyes, but she got the general impression that he didn’t do bad-humoured very often.

‘I’ll tell you all about it, but I’d better rescue the cheese on toast or it’ll go the same way as dinner number one.’