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

‘I know you will,’ Sylvie said.

‘What if the guests don’t like cats?’ Paige asked, stroking the kitten between the ears. His purr increased as if she’d found the volume button. ‘Some of them might be allergic,’ she added, though her gaze was adoring.

Robin grinned. The kitten was magic. Anything small and soft and vulnerable had a powerful effect on people. ‘I’ll make sure I put it on the website – the guesthouse comes with a cat – and a couple of the rooms are going to be dog friendly anyway.’

‘I’m still not sure that’s the best idea.’ Sylvie’s voice was sharp through her sniffs. ‘It’ll mean an awful lot of extra work.’

‘I don’t think it will,’ Robin countered. ‘Why would people with dogs have less respect for the guesthouse than those without? And as long as we clean the rooms thoroughly in between, I can’t see how it’ll be a problem.’

‘There’s always the possibility of accidents,’ Sylvie said.

‘Accidents happen in every walk of life,’ Molly added sagely. ‘You just have to be as prepared as possible.’

‘Exactly.’ Robin took a deep breath and turned away. ‘Now, where am I going to put him? I can’t leave him in here.’

‘We’ve set up a basket in the kitchen,’ her dad said. ‘We’ll take him back down now, love. Just packing the last bits into the car.’

Robin nodded and went to pass the kitten back, then realized she wasn’t ready to give up either the furry bundle or her parents quite yet. She followed them to the doorway, then turned.

Jim waved her away. ‘Go on, we’ll be fine with the fish.’

‘All under control,’ Molly said, smiling. ‘Bye, Mr and Mrs B, have a great trip. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!’

The three of them stood on the front step of the Campion Bay Guesthouse. The April day was crisp but clear, the wind buffeting Robin’s curls around her face, the chill snapping at her fingers and cheeks.

‘So you can start on the attic room now, then?’ her dad asked wistfully. ‘What’s that one going to be called?’

‘Starcross,’ Robin said. ‘I’m going to get a telescope for the balcony.’

‘You’ve worked wonders,’ her mum said. ‘It looks like a new place before it’s even finished. I can’t imagine …’ She shook her head. ‘We just didn’t have the fight any more, but with all that you’ve done, I wonder if we should be staying, helping you. It’s a huge task, running this place on your own, my darling.’

‘You’ve already helped me so much, though,’ Robin said, a lump forming in her throat, ‘with the renovations over the last few months. And you know I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without some of Grandma’s inheritance.’

‘You’re keeping the Campion Bay Guesthouse going, love,’ her dad said. ‘You have no idea how proud we are that you’re taking it over, what it means to us to see you here – to think of you running it – and to see how far you’ve come since you lost Neve.’ He embraced her, his hug solid and comforting. For a moment, Robin wondered how she’d ever be able to survive without it, but then she steeled herself. Now was not the time to fall apart.

‘I’m doing it for you,’ Robin said, ‘and for her. For all of you. And I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.’

‘You’ve got The Bible?’ her mum asked. ‘It’s got all you need to know, all our tips and tricks. Though of course you have your own ideas, and you’ll probably end up adding to it more than you refer to it.’

‘It’s got pride of place,’ Robin said. ‘I’ll use it all the time.’

‘And Skype us, won’t you?’

‘You too,’ Robin said. ‘Call me once you’ve arrived.’ Their goodbyes seemed far too short for such a permanent departure, but once she’d watched the maroon Volvo estate disappear down Goldcrest Road and turn the corner, her cheeks streaked with tears, she couldn’t feel her feet for the cold. She turned to see Molly standing on the top step, the kitten in her arms.

‘No time for tears,’ Molly said gently. ‘We’ve got the last room to transform. You, me, and this bundle of fun. Any idea what you’re going to call him?’ Robin joined her friend in the hallway, accepting the kitten from her and bringing his warm, purring body close to her face. There was a tiny half-moon of white beneath his chin, but other than that he was a perfect, silky black. She thought of her inspiration for Starcross, thought of Neve and how much she would have loved a cat – a mascot for Once in a Blue Moon Days.

‘Eclipse,’ she said, kissing the kitten’s nose. ‘I’m going to call him Eclipse.’

It was the last day of the old Campion Bay Guesthouse, the last day before Robin opened up her doors and invited in her guests. The website was up, with images of all the new rooms. On the first floor was Rockpool, with its aquarium feature, and Wilderness, the reclaimed wood furniture offset by subtle, outdoor hues in sage green and powder blue, injections of colour coming in the form of stained-glass murals on the walls. On the second floor was Canvas, her gallery-inspired room with Arthur Durrant’s CampionBayatDawn as the feature painting, set against a white and pine background, and Andalusia, which was in the style of Neve’s favourite region in Spain, her home country. For this room, Robin had concentrated on textures to create the effect she wanted. There were fabrics in warm reds and golds, a terracotta feature wall stood out from the clean white of the other three, and the furniture was polished walnut save for the black wrought-iron bed frame.

Starcross had had to wait until last, when her parents had gone and she could move into their old rooms downstairs. They had worked solidly, finishing it in less than a month. It was the room she was most proud of, and most apprehensive about. While the other rooms were influenced by either her or Neve’s passions – Wilderness and Rockpool signifying her return to Campion Bay, the beach and the exposed wild land along the top of the cliffs; Canvas and Andalusia representing Neve’s love of art and of her home country – Starcross belonged to them both. It was about her fascination with the stars and Neve’s compulsion to find meaning in them. It had been Robin’s childhood bedroom and was modelled on the luxury suite Neve had fallen for. It held more meaning than she would ever reveal to anybody else, because it held pieces of both their hearts.

The new, pealing doorbell resounded through the guesthouse and Robin stopped grappling with the GuestSmart software to go and answer it. On the doorstep she found Molly, Paige, Paige’s boyfriend Adam, Mrs Harris from the Seaview Hotel and Tim, wearing an expertly crumpled white linen shirt, a pair of sunglasses wedged in the open collar. A black gleaming Audi was parked against the kerb.

‘Surprise!’ Paige shouted.

‘What’s going on?’ Robin glanced behind her to check that Eclipse, three months old and adventurous despite his tiny legs, hadn’t followed her to the doorway.

‘Your social media campaign must have worked,’ Molly said, ‘because everyone seems to be aware that you’re relaunching tomorrow. Paige, Adam and I wanted to have a shufty at the finished rooms, and we picked up these stragglers on the way.’

‘Tim’s brought champagne, so Mum said we’d best let him in.’ Paige grinned and Tim caught Robin’s eye, nodding her a greeting. Robin returned it with a nervous smile.

‘Well then,’ she said, ‘you’d better come in.’ She let them file into the wide hall and showed them into Sea Shanty, which ran the whole length of the house, the sea view at the front, French doors to the patio at the back. The garden could be reached through Sea Shanty or through the kitchen, and similarly Sea Shanty had two doors – one straight into the kitchen, and one into the hall. When she was much younger, Robin and her school friends had made a game out of running in a loop through the kitchen, living room and hallway, until one of her friends, too giddy from going round and round, had broken her toe by running into the doorframe instead of through the gap.

The room was split into two areas, the fireplace acting as a divider, and the long table was towards the back of the house, nearest the patio garden. It had wooden benches rather than seats, and Robin had decorated it with flowers in vases, lighthouse-shaped salt and pepper shakers, and a ceramic bowl filled with interesting shells and pebbles she had picked up on the beach.

Towards the front of the house the room became a cosy living area, with navy sofas looking out on the sea, blue-and-white striped cushions and a patterned rug over the floorboards. Hints of postbox red added brightness; the shade of a reading lamp, a print on the wall of a rainy city scene, monochrome apart from red umbrellas. Against the near wall was Mum and Dad’s ancient upright piano, freshly tuned for whenever Robin found the time – and courage – to play it again.

‘Can I give Mrs Harris a tour?’ Paige asked.

Robin looked at the older woman, wondering what her motive was. She had always been friendly with Robin’s mum and dad, and had never shown signs of being outwardly competitive. Now she looked somewhat disgruntled, her beady eyes trained on Robin, her arms folded over a green flowery apron.

‘Let me come with you,’ Robin said slowly. ‘I’d like to show Mrs Harris myself.’

‘And I have to show Adam Starcross,’ Paige said. ‘It’s my favourite room, and we’ve not seen it finished yet. We’re going to stay in it when—’ She stopped abruptly as she caught Molly’s eye, and Robin saw the look that passed between them.

‘Come on then,’ Robin said, hoping to defuse the tension, ‘let’s all go together.’

‘Tim and I will sort out the champagne.’ Molly took the bottle from him, and while Tim showed no signs of being upset, Robin imagined he hadn’t expected to share it with quite so many people. He gave Molly an amused smile and followed her into the kitchen.

Robin let Paige lead the tour, her and Adam’s enthusiasm at the rooms they’d worked on together giving it the kind of positive sales pitch that Robin had dreamed about, but Mrs Harris remained resolutely silent. She peered closely at everything – the spotlights and sound-systems built into the walls, a stained-glass mural in Wilderness, the freestanding bathtub in the rustic en suite of Andalusia – the only bathroom big enough for more than a drench shower. As the tour continued and Mrs Harris didn’t utter a single word of delight or approval, Robin’s nerves took hold. Was this how everyone was going to react to the new bedrooms? After a fortnight without bookings to make sure she had time to get everything finished, she had four out of the five rooms occupied from lunchtime tomorrow. The thought that they might not like what she’d done was too traumatic to contemplate.

Paige pushed open the door of Canvas and Mrs Harris stepped inside, her attention immediately turning to CampionBayatDawn. Robin held her breath, and a quick glance in Paige and Adam’s direction elicited uneasy shrugs from them both.

‘Where did this come from?’ the older woman asked, failing to turn round.

‘Uhm, well, it was painted by a local artist. Most of these were, actually,’ Robin said, gesturing at the other paintings. ‘Some Mum and Dad had dotted throughout the guesthouse, and others I’ve been buying in the run-up to today.’

‘It’s very modern,’ Mrs Harris said, turning. Her hands were squeezed into tight fists on her hips, and her iron-grey hair was piled up on her head, accentuating the sharpness of her features. ‘What’s the point of having so many paintings in here?’

‘Because they’re beautiful,’ Paige rushed, and Robin was touched by her loyalty. ‘The whole room is. All the rooms are. Whether you want the calm and quiet of a gallery, or to be transported to rural Spain, or get to sleep under the stars or on the beach without the cold or sand in your pyjamas. You get all the experience but with comfort to match. Don’t you see, Mrs Harris? I would pay all I had to sleep in one of these rooms, to have an unforgettable experience.’

Robin inhaled, a lump forming in her throat at Paige’s explanation, at the way she had understood her vision for the guesthouse so completely. ‘Paige—’ she started, her voice a whisper.

‘Why change it?’ Mrs Harris asked, cutting her off. ‘Sylvie and Ian had these rooms lovely and simple. Why all the fancy-pants arty stuff?’

‘I wanted to refresh the guesthouse, to try something a bit different.’