Second Chances at Samphire Bay (Samphire Bay Village #1)

Chapter 7

Robin was knackered. He’d spent all yesterday in the attic of his cottage. Wanting to make good use of the space, he and Jack had decided to strengthen the floorboards and put a skylight in the roof, maximising the splendid view it would give. They also needed to install a set of stairs leading up, which meant reconfiguring the landing slightly, as at the moment, stepladders were propped up to allow Robin to climb back and forth as he carted up the wooden planks.

It had been such a warm day and he’d opened wide all the windows to let the breeze in, now and then catching snippets of conversation from Jasmine’s garden, unable to help but listen. Fair to say, he was more than curious about the girl next door.

Listening shamefully, Robin had gleaned quite a lot. He levelled it in his mind as being neighbourly, wanting to learn more about Jasmine – and after all, she herself had been caught taking a good peak at his property.

It was evident she had very caring parents, the way they both fussed over her, and pretty obvious that the brother was protective of her too. No wonder, thought Robin, given what the poor girl had gone through. It was blatantly clear how resilient she must be, summoning up the strength to renovate a new home and start again, all on her own.

He cast his mind back to how hurt and forlorn he’d been when his ex-girlfriend had royally dumped him and ripped him off. His wounds would be nothing compared to Jasmine’s.

Although only having met his next-door neighbour briefly, she had made quite an impact on him, probably due to the fact he knew of her heartbreaking background. Human nature did that, thankfully; made people kinder to those in need, no matter how well you did or didn’t know them. And Robin did want to help her; he knew he could, very easily. He had the resources, as a property developer, to make Jasmine’s life a whole lot easier. They were both in the same position, renovating adjourning cottages. Although Jasmine had a brother to help, Robin doubted he’d have the same skills he and Jack had, as implied by her comment that they would be ‘giving it their best shot’.

A skip was being delivered that morning and, knowing that Jasmine and her brother were about to rip out the kitchen and bathroom (from his eavesdropping), he intended to offer its use to her. He had originally ordered a smaller skip, but he’d called and changed it to a larger one to make extra room.

It had tickled Robin that Jasmine and her brother were camping out in the garden. But why not? It made sense to take advantage of the good weather, rather than being cooped up inside the cottage which would be full of muck and dust whilst working on it.

Yawning, he made his way into his kitchen and filled the kettle. He always took a full flask of coffee and sandwiches with him when working on a job, fuel for the day. His mobile rang, and looking at the screen told him it was Jack.

‘Hi, mate,’ he answered.

‘Hi. The window’s arrived for the skylight,’ Jack informed him.

‘Good. I’ll knock through the roof today and get it fitted.’

‘Need a hand?’

‘Nah, don’t think so. You OK to go to the reclamation yard?’ They had decided to try and source original fittings for the bathroom and wanted a cast iron, rolled top bath along with sinks and shower mixer taps. They’d also wanted an old fireplace to install in the living room.

‘Yeah, sure, leave it with me.’ Then Jack added, ‘Any sign of next door?’

Robin paused, having expected this question from Jack. Part of him was tempted to deny he’d met Jasmine, knowing how inquisitive Jack would be about her. The last thing he wanted was for Jack to go snooping about, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. For some reason, he felt quite defensive of Jasmine. He’d never mentioned to Jack that he’d gone to Bunty to get answers, so he was left in the dark about her matchmaking schemes.

Although he had eavesdropped on her family yesterday, rather hypocritically, he didn’t like the idea of Jack’s interest being satisfied.

Instead of outright denying what happened, Robin played down his answer.

‘Just exchanged names over the hedge,’ he said in an offhand manner.

‘And?’ Jack’s voice rose in anticipation.

‘She seems nice enough,’ came the neutral reply. ‘Like I said, we only introduced ourselves, didn’t talk for long.’

‘Oh.’ Jack was obviously disappointed not to have had a more detailed account. ‘What does she look like?’ he persisted.

Robin rolled his eyes, typical Jack. He was damned well not going to tell him that Jasmine was without doubt one of the most attractive women he’d ever set eyes on. This would only raise Jack’s interest further.

‘Well… shortish hair, friendly face. Her brother’s there too, helping out apparently. Built like a brick shithouse,’ added Robin unnecessarily, but it seemed to do the trick.

‘Oh, right.’

Robin grinned wryly, changing tack. ‘So, if you go to the reclamation yard, I’ll get the skylight done.’

‘OK, will do, bye.’

‘See ya, mate.’ Robin hung up then laughed, shaking his head at Jack. He knew how to handle him, having been his best friend for years.

When Robin’s parents had chosen to leave London and all its pressures behind, they couldn’t have picked a more ideal spot than Samphire Bay. Although only a teenager at the time, Robin instantly became accustomed to the tranquil, coastal village, which held so much charm. He’d loved the quirkiness of the peninsula and the way it could be cut off by the tide. The place intrigued him with its folk tales of stolen contraband hidden in secret coves by smugglers, or shipwrecks out at sea waiting to be discovered. It had all been such a huge contrast to the busy suburb in north London where he’d grown up.

Together with Jack, who he’d immediately gelled with, they had got the most out of the place; barbeques with friends on the beach, dancing until sunset to go skinny dipping under a moonlit sea. They’d had a ball. Having a small community meant people really knew each other well and solid friendships formed.

Looking back, Jack always did have an eye for the ladies. His good looks and natural charisma meant he’d been popular, but perhaps never taken too seriously, while Robin had been the quieter of the two in comparison, but still well-liked; and where Robin was dark, swarthy and with a tendency to brood, Jack was fair haired and the more boisterous.

It had been Jack who had warned Robin of Ellie, his ex-fiancée. Although appearing to have a devil-may-care attitude, it was he who’d had the intuition to see straight through her, especially when she had tried to flirt with him. That, in Jack’s book, was bang out of order. It was one thing chatting up women, but best mate’s girlfriends were most definitely out of bounds. He’d tried several times to caution Robin, without actually telling him just what his girlfriend was capable of. Robin’s friendship was important to him and the last thing he wanted was any kind of rift between them, especially as nothing had come of her flirting.

‘Don’t put her name on the deeds, mate, just yours,’ he’d said, knowing it was Robin’s money which was being poured into the renovation of the barn they had planned to live in.

‘But it’s going to be her home too,’ Robin had reasoned, thinking his friend was acting a touch mercenary. But for all Jack’s advice, which Robin had ignored, he’d been proved well and truly right. If only he had listened to his best mate, he’d have saved himself a whole load of misery and money.

Still, that was in the past and time had moved on. So had Robin. At least Ellie had done the right thing and beggared off, out of Samphire Bay, leaving him free to get on with his life. He laughed to himself when thinking about Bunty and her idea that playing cupid was going to help him. Despite it being totally outrageous the way she was trying to engineer the situation, he could see she meant well. Then again, after seeing Jasmine yesterday, maybe Bunty wasn’t too far off the mark after all.

Jack had left the new window propped up against the side of the cottage and was gone by the time Robin arrived. He couldn’t help but be a tad relieved, feeling reluctant to introduce Jack to Jasmine just yet. He knew how playful his mate could be at times, especially around attractive ladies, and didn’t want Jasmine to feel uncomfortable in any way.

He picked up the glass and walked to the back of the cottage. On doing so, he saw another face peering over the garden hedge.

‘Hi, there!’ called the man he assumed was Jasmine’s brother.

‘Hi,’ replied Robin. He leant the window against the back door and went over to him. ‘Robin,’ he supplied and held out his hand.

‘Sam, Jasmine’s brother.’ The men shook hands.

‘Heard you’re doing this all yourselves. I’ve got a skip being delivered this morning, feel free to use it,’ Robin offered.

‘Thanks, appreciate it, that’ll be a big help. We’ve just started ripping out the kitchen units.’ He pointed to a pile of damaged wooden doors and an old Formica worktop in the garden.

Robin smiled. ‘I’ll be doing the same before so long.’

‘You from Samphire Bay?’ asked Sam.

‘Yeah, moved here when I was seventeen.’

‘It’s a lovely spot,’ Sam remarked, gazing out towards the bay.

‘The best,’ agreed Robin.

‘Will you be living here, or selling once you’ve finished renovating the cottage?’

Robin paused for a moment, surprised at Sam’s directness. Was he sizing him up? Sussing out who could be living next door to his sister? Originally, he had wanted to buy both cottages and renovate them into one spectacular house. Then, he would have been tempted to keep such a stunning property as his own home. As that hadn’t panned out, he was still considering his options.

‘I may live here, haven’t decided yet,’ he answered, looking Sam in the eye. He refused to feel intimidated in any way, albeit understanding Sam’s brotherly concern. He also didn’t feel the need to explain himself, either.

‘I see.’ Sam nodded. ‘Well, thanks for letting us use your skip. Best get back to work.’

‘No worries,’ replied Robin, and he turned back to the cottage, ready for a full day’s work.

Bunty poured herself another generous glug of gin, added tonic, a slice of cucumber and lots of ice, then turned to gaze out of the huge bow window in the drawing room. This was her favourite spot, overlooking the panoramic view of the bay.

Many a time she’d stare out to sea, watching what it had to offer that day – whether it be a raging storm with metal grey clouds hovering over its dark waters, flashes of lightening illuminating the whipped-up waves, or a serene sunset peacefully settling down, reflecting deep orange and soft pink hues over its gentle ripples. No two days were ever the same.

Today, the sea was calm. What was the saying? Still waters run deep , echoed a distant voice in her head, causing her to take a big gulp of gin. Her eyelids closed, allowing hazy memories to morph into sharper focus, refusing to be forgotten…

Bunty had watched the little red fishing boat chug out on a limpid sea. All was quiet apart from the distant echo of seagulls calling in the distance. She squinted, shielding her eyes from the sun and saw the figure on the deck wave – no, he was saluting her. She froze for a moment, suspecting the gesture was a final one, the last goodbye, a dismissal. With her chest pounding, Bunty raised her hand to wave frantically at him. Come back! she wanted to scream, but knew it was pointless. He’d never hear her and, besides, would it make a difference if he had? She paused, then tried again, this time with both hands, crossing each other urgently in the air. But no, he’d turned his back, refusing to look at her any longer. Hot tears poured down Bunty’s face as she watched the stern of the boat bob gently through the waves, slowly distancing the space between them. She stared numbly, rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. He’d be back she told herself, he had to come back.