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

Chapter 12

‘Oh darling, it’s fabulous!’ cried Jasmine’s mum as she entered the kitchen.

‘I did the tiling,’ Jasmine said proudly.

‘Really?’ Her mum looked amazed.

‘Absolutely, it’s surprising what you can pick up on YouTube.’

It had taken her hours to do, even though it was a relatively small space between the worktop and shelves, but still, she’d done it all by herself and was pleased with the result.

Jasmine’s parents had arranged to visit and were most impressed with what they’d seen so far. Just having the tent gone made a difference, her dad had joked. Now, stood in the newly renovated kitchen they couldn’t believe their eyes. The transformation was astonishing.

‘Wait till you see the bathroom,’ she boasted.

As predicted, her parents were stunned.

‘And the next-door neighbour installed this too?’ asked her dad. He’d learnt from Sam how helpful the man in the next cottage had been.

‘He did,’ replied Jasmine. ‘I can’t thank Robin enough.’

‘Hmm.’ Her mum was pensive, thoroughly liking the sound of this Robin. By all accounts this young man had been a Godsend. Then, on cue, there was a knock at the back door. Jasmine went to answer it.

‘Oh hi, Robin, come in.’ She stood back to let him enter. Immediately her mum was hot footing it down the stairs at hearing his name. Slightly out of breath, she halted before joining them in the kitchen to listen.

‘Sorry, have you company? I noticed a car in the drive,’ Robin asked.

‘Yes, it’s fine, my mum and dad are here.’

‘Right, I was just wondering if you’d like to come to mine for dinner? Not tonight, obviously if you’re busy—’

‘Tomorrow then?’ cut in Jasmine.

‘Great, about seven? I’ll come for you.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m not working tomorrow, so I’ll have plenty of time to pick you up,’ Robin told her.

‘Shall I bring anything?’ Jasmine asked.

‘No, it’s OK.’

‘I’ll bring a bottle at least,’ grinned Jasmine.

Robin smiled, remembering that crate of wine she’d told him about.

‘Sounds good, see you tomorrow,’ he laughed and made his leave.

Interesting, thought Jasmine’s mum, who by now had decided to enter the kitchen.

‘Who was that, darling?’ she asked innocently. Jasmine smirked wryly to herself. As if her mum hadn’t listened to every word of the conversation.

‘Robin. I’m having dinner at his tomorrow evening,’ she explained unnecessarily.

‘He can cook as well, then?’ her dad said, joining them. Jasmine looked from one to the other. Clearly she was expected to divulge more on the Robin front.

‘He’s just being neighbourly, that’s all,’ she stated.

‘Of course,’ agreed her mum with a big smile, delighted that her daughter had met such a nice chap. Even her dad had a look of smugness about him.

‘We’re just friends,’ Jasmine persisted.

‘Good, good.’ Her dad nodded. ‘Now then, how about putting the kettle on in that new kitchen of yours?’

Robin was more than pleased with Jasmine’s reaction to his invitation. She’d appeared pretty keen to come to his. Now he just had to decide what to cook. Hell, he wasn’t much of a chef, but even he could stick a casserole in the oven and not burn it. He’d thought twice about buying anything from the local shop though, wishing to avoid Trish’s questions and speculation. No, he’d have to go further afield to buy everything.

First things first, he’d better get his flat clean and tidy. It had been a while since he’d entertained. Correction, he’d never entertained since moving into the place. Not that he didn’t value his home, he did. Being in the property business, Robin appreciated the high ceilings and cornices, loving the Gothic influences and intricately designed woodwork the large Victorian house had, before being made into separate flats. Fortunately, the developers who had renovated it had been sympathetic to its origins. The outside appearance was equally aesthetically pleasing, with patterned brick and decorative barge boards on the gable ends. The name of the building was rather grand too, Augusta House, in keeping with the era it was built.

Robin had been one of the first to view the flats once they’d been converted. He had managed to secure one of the larger ones, containing two bedrooms and a balcony at the rear which overlooked the bay. This, like it was for Jasmine, had been the deal breaker.

Although Robin had loved his new home, he’d never had the time to truly put his stamp on it. The walls were plain, clean white and the kitchen still looked brand new, not having been used that much. At least his bedroom had a more lived-in look, with the plush king-sized bed covered with paisley patterned linen, a few tasteful pictures and an old rocking chair he’d inherited from his grandmother, which stood by the balcony doors. There was a small bistro set outside on the balcony. Robin had contemplated eating there with Jasmine but felt uncomfortable with them having to access it through his bedroom. Instead, they’d use the dining table under the window in the lounge and make the most of the view that gave.

Robin was a mixture of nerves and excitement to be having a visitor – and not just any visitor, but Jasmine. It really mattered to him what she thought of his place, wanting to set the best impression. He was pleased to have tomorrow off to give himself plenty of time to prepare.

There was something else bothering him; he had to give Jasmine the invoice for his work. Left to him, he probably would have done it for free, under the circumstances. But he had a business and knew he had to run it as such, especially having Jack as his partner. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a touch uneasy.

By the next evening, Robin had accomplished everything he’d set out to. The flat was immaculate, the casserole was cooking nicely and smelling delicious, and the lemon cheesecake was chilling in the fridge, along with a bottle of champagne (he’d decided to push the boat out) and the prawn cocktail for starters he’d bought ready-made but put them in large wine glasses and added sliced lemon on the rims to look homemade. Not bad for a single bloke who didn’t cook, he thought. Now all he had to do was go and pick up his guest.

Jasmine was looking forward to the evening ahead. Not just to have a nice meal made for her, but she rather fancied having a look around Robin’s home. She assumed he’d have good taste, being in the property development line of business.

Putting on the finishing touches to her make-up in front of the bathroom mirror, a sudden wave of guilt gushed through her. She stopped midway applying her lipstick. What was she doing? She stared at the reflection in the glass. Her blonde hair was highlighted by the sun and a rosy complexion glowed from her face. Big brown eyes stared back at her, no longer surrounded by dark shadows. She had a radiance about her. The sunshine, fresh sea air and exercise had had an effect on her. That, and having her mind occupied with the jobs on her new house.

‘It’s not a date,’ she told herself. Of course it wasn’t. It was just two neighbours enjoying a meal together, that’s all. Placing all manner of doubt behind her, Jasmine finished applying her make-up. There, it was time she made an effort on her appearance anyway. She was making an effort for herself , that’s all.

Robin arrived on time and took it to be a good sign that Jasmine answered the door without delay. She was obviously ready and waiting. Standing on the doorstep, Robin gulped at the image before him. Jasmine looked striking in a chocolate brown, fitted halter-neck dress. It totally complemented her slim figure, sun-kissed skin and brown eyes.

‘H–hi,’ he almost squeaked.

‘Hi, thanks for picking me up.’ She offered him a soft smile.

‘No problem.’

He’d actually spent an hour cleaning his Range Rover inside and out. It’d been littered with all kinds of snack wrappers, tools and muck. He hardly recognised it once finished, and neither had Jack when he’d called round that afternoon. When Robin had explained why he’d made an effort to clean his car, Jack had looked up rapidly from his scrutiny of the clean paintwork.

‘You’re finally going on a date?’ he’d asked in amazement.

‘Yeah, well not a date as such, just—’

‘Good on you, mate,’ Jack interrupted, so pleased his best friend had at last ventured back onto the dating scene. Seeing Robin appear a touch self-conscious, Jack quickly changed the subject and hadn’t stayed long, leaving Robin to ‘spruce up’.

Robin was surprised at how nervous tonight’s not-date was making him. It’s not as if he wasn’t used to female company, far from it. Before his previous relationship, Robin had had plenty of girlfriends. He and Jack had never been short of admirers and, like most young men, they had made the most of it.

Despite feeling tense, another part of Robin felt buoyant. He genuinely enjoyed Jasmine’s company. She was easy to be around, calm and placid, all the things Ellie was not, or certainly not with him at least. Horrendous memories flared into his mind; the venomous rows they’d had, her pretty face contorted with fury and spite; the cruel, hurtful things she had screamed, leaving him wounded and crushed.

Now, standing on Jasmine’s doorstep, he had to remind himself those days were gone. It was time to move on. And whilst he had told Jack this wasn’t exactly a date, he dearly wished it was, in every sense.

‘It smells nice in here,’ Jasmine commented as she strapped her seatbelt on.

‘That’ll be the new air freshener. It’s not always this clean and tidy,’ Robin replied dryly, making her laugh out loud. This is exactly what he liked about Jasmine, there was no need to stand on ceremony. When they arrived, Jasmine took in the Augusta House sign on the cast iron gate by the entrance. The grand Victorian building looked imposing, standing proudly flanked by tall fir trees. Jasmine glanced sideways to see Robin wind his window down and scan a fob to gain entry. It all looked very sleek and classy, she thought.

Entering his flat, her impression didn’t change. That too was elegant and stylish, however more minimal than she was expecting, lacking a homely touch, in her opinion.

‘So, I’ve made a casserole,’ said Robin, reaching in the fridge for the chilled champagne, ‘but first let’s open this.’ He popped the cork and poured into two flutes.

‘Lovely, what’s the celebration?’ Jasmine asked, surprised to see the champagne.

Robin shrugged. ‘No occasion, just thought it’d be nice.’

Taking her glass, she clinked it with his.

‘Cheers, Robin, and thanks, again.’ She gave a half laugh, conscious of all that he’d done, which then reminded her. ‘By the way, how much do I owe you?’

Robin paused, not wanting to ruin the moment, he waved her question away.

‘Oh, don’t worry about that now—’

‘No, really,’ Jasmine cut in firmly, ‘I need to pay you for all your hard work.’

She looked sternly into his eyes.

‘Yeah, OK, I’ll drop off the invoice,’ he finally said, feeling a little awkward.

‘No, just give it to me now,’ she insisted.

‘But—’

‘Please Robin, it’s no big deal, really.’

‘OK.’

He went to the kitchen drawer to take the envelope with the duly made out invoice in. There was also the brown envelope in the drawer from the old chest containing photographs. As a talking point, he decided to show them to Jasmine after handing her the invoice. Her face lit up with interest when he explained how he’d come across them.

‘Oh look!’ she cried, casting her eyes over them. She paused at the black and white shot of the couple in dark shades grinning into the camera.

‘What?’ Robin frowned, watching her closely examine this particular picture.

‘Doesn’t she remind you of anyone?’

Robin’s forehead creased in bafflement.

‘Look at the cheek dimples and the cleft chin.’

Still Robin frowned.

‘Imagine this woman forty-odd years older,’ said Jasmine almost exasperated, to her it was blatantly obvious.

Then, the penny dropped. Realisation hit Robin.

‘Oh my God, it’s Bunty!’

‘Exactly! That’s what I was thinking. But who do you think she’s with?’

Then, Robin remembered what else he’d discovered.

‘I found an anchor in the chest too, it had been engraved with the initials B and P,’ he told her.

‘So, mystery man’s name begins with a P?’ Jasmine was intrigued.

‘And he was a fisherman, hence the anchor, and Bunty did rent out the cottages to fishermen,’ concluded Robin, gaining momentum as he spoke.

‘Well, well.’ Jasmine narrowed her eyes. ‘It looks like Bunty had a thing going with one of her tenants.’ She looked at the photos again. Turning to Robin, she asked, ‘How long had the cottages been empty?’

‘Ages, they’ve been unoccupied since I moved to Samphire Bay, at least seventeen years.’

Jasmine distinctly recalled Bunty saying the cottages hadn’t been lived in for ‘one or two years’ when asked. She hadn’t believed her at the time, considering the state they’d been in.

‘Do you think we should give her the photos?’ asked Robin, now beginning to feel uncomfortable that they were in his possession.

Jasmine looked into his troubled eyes, admiring his integrity. She also admired the colour of them, a rich hazel, framed with dark lashes making them stand out…

‘Jasmine?’

‘Hmm? Oh… sorry, yes of course. Give them to Bunty, it seems the right thing to do.’

‘What about the anchor? Should I give her that too do you think?’ He tried to hide his disappointment, as he really thought that would have been an excellent feature for the garden.

‘Not necessarily. That obviously belonged to mystery Mr P, but the photos are personal, aren’t they?’

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ Robin replied, feeling justified in keeping it. ‘Right, let’s eat.’

As the two of them dined, the late evening sun shone its final rays over the bay, to finally give way to a panoramic sunset.

‘Such stunning views, I can see why you bought this place,’ Jasmine remarked, in awe as she gazed out of the window.

‘I know, but the cottage is nearer to the sea. I prefer that location.’

‘Are you tempted to keep it then?’ she asked, a touch taken aback at hearing this. She observed his expression, he seemed to be brooding over the answer. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t want another neighbour. She wanted Robin to stay.

‘I–I’m not sure. It was bought as a business venture, but the more I’m there, the more I’m lured.’ Was he ever, especially having her as his next-door neighbour.

They looked at each other, no words exchanged, just a contented stillness. Jasmine experienced a serenity she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

The rest of the evening continued with the same easy pleasant ambience and time flew by. So much so, Jasmine looked startled at her watch when the taxi she’d booked had buzzed through to the flat to take her home.

‘Thanks so much for a lovely evening,’ she said, as they both made their way to Robin’s door.

‘My pleasure,’ he replied. They stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do next.

‘Well… good night.’ She smiled hesitantly.

‘Good night, Jasmine.’ He smiled back. ‘Text me when you get back home.’

‘I will, bye.’

Closing the door behind him, he lent on it and exhaled. He was falling under Jasmine’s spell. But what did she think of him? Was he about to have his heart broken all over again?