Meet Me at the Lighthouse: This summer’s best laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

“I really do. Come back inside a sec, let me show you.”

I wiped my eyes on his collar, stood and followed him back in.

“See? Structure’s fine, all the stone apart from the staircase,” he said, blowing a layer of dust away and knocking against a solid-sounding wall. “And look.” He took a few long strides across the floor. “You were right, it is bigger than I thought. Must be 30, 35 feet across.”

I sniffed doubtfully. “You think it could work then?”

“Yep. We’ll have to get someone to survey it, but I’m certain it’s basically sound.” His eyes sparkled as fervour for his pet project took hold. “Can’t you just see it, Bobbie? A stage down here, two or three viewing balconies, and then maybe a little bar at the top where the old lamp is, looking out to sea.” He stopped to relish the image he’d conjured, a smile fluttering on his lips.

To be honest, I couldn’t see it. All I could see when I looked around the lighthouse was dirt, decay and a hell of a lot of work. But I couldn’t help smiling at the enthusiasm shining in his face.

“It’ll be a new lease of life for the place,” I said. “That’s if we can pull it off.”

“We can, I know it.” He came over to squeeze my shoulder. “You and me, lighthouse girl.”

“Yeah, but –” I broke off into a fit of coughing as some of the dust got into my throat.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Ross said, guiding me to the door.

“But how will we do it?” I asked when we were back in the fresh air. “I mean, even if it is salvageable, the state of it… where will we get the money?”

“You said yourself there are grants we can apply for. It is a listed building. And I’ve got some savings I can invest if things get desperate, sort of an emergency fund.”

“You’d really do that?”

“Absolutely. I told you, Bobbie, I’ve been dreaming about this for years. This is my chance to make a difference and I’m going for it heart and soul.”

I looked into his passion-kindled eyes. He was really prepared to fight for this, wasn’t he?

I thought about the money I had sitting in my building society account. Jess and me had never known our dad, but he’d left us each £10,000 in his will when he passed away three years ago. I’d never been able to bring myself to touch it; it felt dirty, somehow. But the lighthouse project, something for the town…

“I’ve got cash I can invest too,” I said. “My dad left me ten grand.”

He stared at me in surprise. “Really, that bastard left you money?”

“Yeah. Deathbed guilt, I think.”

“But Bobbie, this is my dream, not yours. Your dad left that for you.”

“I don’t want his money. Let it go to a good cause; I’ll never spend it.”

“But –”

I raised an imperious hand. “Don’t try to talk me out of it, Mason. There’s no point arguing when I get the bossy face on.”

He smiled. “So I remember. Seriously though, you don’t want to talk it through with Jess or your mum first? I won’t hold it against you if you back out.”

“Look, we shook on it, didn’t we? If we do this, we do it together. Musketeers never say die.”

“That’s Goonies. But I take your point.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “Well, lass, if you’re really positive, I can match that. In for a penny, in for a pound, eh?”

“Are you sure you can afford it, Ross? I know freelancing can be unsteady.”

“Oh, I’ll cope. Anyway, there’ll be the equity from my old flat once it finally sells, plus some joint savings of mine and Claire’s. I won’t have access to those until the divorce goes through, but at least it’s on the horizon.”

I stiffened under his arm.

“What?” I said quietly.

“There’s nearly six months yet until we can get the ball rolling. Even when these things are amicable it has to be two years’ minimum legal separation. Don’t worry though, I’ll have enough in the meantime with a bit of careful budgeting.”

Divorce… oh Jesus Christ, he was married! Oh God, I didn’t snog a married man!

Ross frowned at my glazed expression. “Everything ok, Bobbie? You’ve gone all quiet.”

“Yeah.” I summoned a smile. “Yeah, course. Just thinking.”

“Look, about last night. I mean, kissing you and everything – sorry. I shouldn’t have done it when we were like we were.” He grinned. “Obviously under the influence of tequila your charms just overwhelmed me.”

“Last night was last night,” I mumbled. “Nothing to beat yourself up over.”

“So can we go out again, do things properly this time?”

God, I needed to bail out of this conversation. Married! How could I not have known he was married? That changed everything.

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea while we’re working together,” I said at last. “And while you’re – your personal life. Let’s just focus on the lighthouse for now.”

“My personal life… with Claire, you mean?”

“Yeah. Better to wait for your divorce till you plunge back into the dating scene, don’t you think?”

He frowned. “Never really thought about it like that. We’ve been separated 18 months… I suppose the actual paperwork just feels like, well, paperwork.”

“Still, it doesn’t feel right to me. I’m sorry, Ross, I can’t; not now. Maybe ask me again in six months, eh? That is, if you still want to.”

“We’re friends though, aren’t we?”

I shook my head. “More important than that. We’re partners.”

Chapter 5 (#u63a381f1-0bfb-5cd3-a738-aec7dc9436e8)

Back at the cottage, Jess had finally dragged herself out of bed and was enjoying Chillout Sunday in front of the telly. I chucked myself down and dropped my head to her shoulder.

“What’s up with you?” she asked, giving the wind-tangled strands tumbling over her PJs a vague pat.

“Hangover. God, Jessie, I’ve had the weirdest 24 hours.”

“Tell me about it. Hey, want to play ‘Guess where they stuck the vegetable’ with last night’s A&E loiterers?”