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

Chapter 15

Jack saw the transit van drive up to the cottage, pulling a trailer with the digger he’d hired. He went out to help direct the machinery into Jasmine’s back garden. She was out, so all was quiet. Robin was due to arrive later that morning, so he’d be the one levelling the garden. Jack was going to be busy installing the cast iron bath he had finally found in a house clearance.

After the trailer had safely been parked at the bottom of Jasmine’s garden, Jack gave the driver the thumbs up.

‘OK here?’ called the driver, getting out of the van to unload.

‘Yes, thanks mate,’ nodded Jack.

Soon the Bobcat was being slowly driven down the slope of the trailer onto the lawn. Once finished, Jack went to join the driver.

‘Cheers, we’ll be done with it by tomorrow afternoon I’d say.’

‘No worries, just give us a call,’ he replied, climbing back into his van.

Jack looked at the brand new vehicle.

‘Business doing well, Adrian?’ he asked, tipping his head toward the shiny, new van.

Adrian turned his head sharply.

‘Er… yes. The old one was knackered, sold it for scrap,’ he answered a tad abruptly, then quickly started up the engine. Without any hesitation he drove off, and Jack frowned. Clearly a busy man, he thought.

Later, when Jasmine came back from her swim, she was pleased to see the Bobcat had been delivered. She was keen to get on with the studio and was looking forward to creating her very own workspace.

Meanwhile, Robin had just arrived next door. He too was pleased to see the digger in situ, ready to start work.

‘Hi, Rob, the digger’s arrived,’ Jack told him as he entered the kitchen.

‘So I see,’ Robin said, peering out of the window.

‘Fancy giving me a hand with this bath before you start next door?’ asked Jack.

‘Yeah, course.’

The two men heaved the heavy cast iron bath up the stairs to the bathroom, leaving them out of breath.

‘Blimey, it weighs a ton,’ huffed Jack as they straightened it up against the wall.

‘This job certainly keeps us fit,’ Robin said, laughing. ‘Just think of the money it’s going to make us.’

‘Speaking of, Adrian must be making some money. Just seen his brand spanking new van. That must have set him back a bit.’

‘Adrian Hall?’ repeated Robin.

‘Yeah, that’s who’s hiring out the Bobcat.’

‘But… he couldn’t do it when Jasmine contacted him.’ Robin’s brow puckered in confusion.

‘Well, maybe he’s busy, but could still hire out the digger?’ suggested Jack. ‘He’s the most obvious choice, being local.’

Robin paused, thinking it was still a little strange. Why didn’t Adrian offer the hire of his Bobcat to Jasmine in the first place?

Once the cast iron bath was situated in the right position, Robin left for Jasmine’s. He tapped on the back door.

‘Come in!’ she called. She was cooking a hearty breakfast after her morning swim, making enough for two.

‘Something smells good.’ Robin’s mouth watered at the bacon, sausage and eggs in the frying pan.

She grinned. ‘Fancy a full English?’

‘Absolutely.’ He rubbed his hands together.

They sat at the kitchen table enjoying the fry up.

‘I could get used to this,’ Robin said, tucking into his breakfast, then stopped, realising how that could be misconstrued.

‘Us breakfasting together?’ ribbed Jasmine. She could tell by the slight blush that he knew how clumsy he’d sounded. Robin looked into her warm, brown eyes, which held a twinkle of mischief, then slowly broke into a grin.

‘I meant you cooking for me.’ He laughed at hearing his own words. That sounded even worse!

‘Not just breakfast then?’ Jasmine arched a playful eyebrow.

‘Never mind out there,’ he pointed towards the garden, ‘I’m already digging a big enough hole in here,’ he joked.

Jasmine threw her head back and chuckled. ‘Listen, if I can cook then it’s the least I can do for all your help, seriously,’ she said with sincerity.

Their eyes locked. Time stood still. Jasmine reached up to touch the heart pendant around her neck and Robin noticed the action. He also noted that she had done that before. It seemed to be a gut reaction of hers and it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to deduce the necklace was acting as some kind of talisman, presumably a gift from her late husband. He looked down, all the light-hearted banter suddenly lost. They were interrupted by the sound of Jasmine’s mobile phone.

‘Sorry, it’s my mum,’ she said, reaching to answer it.

‘I’ll make a start,’ mouthed Robin, clearing the plates away before he headed out to the garden.

Within a couple of hours, a huge pile of earth had mounted up. Robin looked around the garden, thinking some of it could be used to make a rockery, if not for Jasmine’s garden then maybe his next door. He suggested as much when he completed the job late in the afternoon. They were sat on deck chairs having a well-earned cup of tea. Whilst Robin had been scraping and digging the earth, Jasmine had been sanding down the hallway banister, ready for a fresh lick of varnish. She had decided to get the floorboards sanded down too, wanting them to be varnished also, rather than carpeted.

‘A rockery?’ she said in response to Robin’s proposal.

‘Yes, I think it’d be a good focal point for the garden,’ he replied taking a sip of tea.

‘Hmm, I think I’d prefer raised vegetable beds.’ That was something she and Tom had missed, living on a canal boat, not being able to grow their own vegetables. It was something she’d always fancied doing.

‘Good idea,’ nodded Robin, liking her thinking.

‘But there’s plenty to do both, if you want to build a rockery next door,’ she said.

‘Yeah, I think I will.’ He pictured the anchor he and Jack had found in the trunk. It would look good in a rockery. For a moment his thoughts turned to Bunty and those photographs he’d given her. Never had he seen her so melancholy as when he’d handed them over.

‘What are you thinking about, Robin?’ asked Jasmine, seeing emotions flicker across his face.

‘Hmm? Oh… just about Bunty and the photographs we found of her. She looked so sad when I gave them to her.’

‘Poor Bunty.’ Jasmine felt a surge of pity for the old dear. Then an idea came to her. ‘Why don’t I cook for her? Invite her round for a meal?’

‘That’d be nice. I’m sure she’d love the company,’ Robin said.

Jasmine shook her head. ‘I mean the three of us, a mini dinner party?’

‘Lovely, I’m sure she’d appreciate that. She’d be interested to see what you’ve done to the place too.’

‘Yes, she would,’ laughed Jasmine, already imagining Bunty striding through her home, offering up her opinion unasked. ‘I’ll let you invite her.’

Robin narrowed his eyes in thought.

‘No, why don’t you pay her a visit? She’d like that.’

‘Oh, right.’ Jasmine blinked, not expecting that response, but why not go and see Bunty? She often wondered what that impressive big house on the peninsula was like inside. Well, now was her chance to step inside and see.

The next afternoon Jack had called Adrian to collect his digger as promised. Robin had finished all the levelling of Jasmine’s garden and it was now flat for the studio to be installed. Jasmine had bought a contemporary, wooden cladded studio with large patio doors. It was to be erected by the company she had bought it from within a matter of days, which meant that she was looking at having a much-needed workspace very shortly.

Jasmine had spent hours looking at various websites to give her clues on how to furnish it inside. As the studio’s exterior was going to look quite modern, she decided to keep the inside minimalist and sleek. She wanted a large, simple desk in there with a swivel chair and a noticeboard to pin up sketches and prints of ideas for her work. The studio’s glass doors would be positioned at the back, so facing the view of the bay would be a good enough distraction for her. As always with Samphire Bay, it was all about the view.

Robin, who had wheelbarrowed half of the mounted-up earth to his garden, was busy constructing his rockery. He stopped shovelling when he spotted Adrian pick up his Bobcat next door. Robin watched with interest at the way he flinched when Jasmine came out to see him.

‘Hello, I’m Jasmine, we spoke on the phone,’ she told him.

‘Oh…’ Adrian stumbled to a halt.

Robin narrowed his eyes at the way Adrian was acting. Was he shaking slightly? His shoulders hunched and he clearly couldn’t even look Jasmine in the face, let alone shake her offered hand.

‘I’m glad we managed to borrow your digger. I thought you said—’

‘Yeah, a job got cancelled,’ Adrian interrupted brusquely, then ran a hand through his hair nervously.

‘Ri-ght,’ said Jasmine, a touch puzzled by this man’s demeanour. ‘Well, here’s what I owe you.’ She handed over the money for hiring the machinery.

‘No,’ he said, pushing it back to her. ‘I don’t want paying.’

Jasmine blinked.

‘Sorry?’

‘You don’t owe me anything, really, it’s fine,’ he insisted, then got into his van and started up the engine.

‘But…’ Jasmine’s mouth gaped open as Adrian drove off as quickly as possible.

Alarm bells began to ring inside Robin, who had witnessed the whole scene, followed by a horrid sensation that seeped into his very being. Something was most definitely not right here. Why was Adrian acting so strangely? And more to the point, why did he refuse Jasmine’s money? It was the fee she owed him, not charity. The man was supposed to be running a business and a lucrative one at that, according to Jack. Then another dark thought hit him like a bell toll. The van, that new one Adrian was driving. He remembered the one which had been replaced, and his heart began to thud. It had been a white van. He took out his mobile from his jean’s pocket and walked to the side of the cottage, out of any possible earshot. The last thing he wanted was for Jasmine to hear him.

‘Jack?’

‘Yeah mate, I’ll be with you in half an hour, just—’

‘Listen, Jack, what did Adrian Hall say about that old van of his?’

‘What?’

‘You said he’d bought a new van, what was up with his old one?’ asked Robin with urgency.

‘Rob, are you OK?’

‘Just answer me Jack,’ hissed Robin impatiently.

‘He–he said his old van was sold for scrap… Why? Robin what’s the matter?’

‘Gotta go.’ Robin ended the call. With a pounding chest, he climbed inside his Range Rover and drove towards Adrian’s work yard with grim determination.

It didn’t take him long to catch up to the van and trailer. Luckily there was a car in front of Robin’s Range Rover, so Adrian wouldn’t notice he was being followed. Eventually, Adrian’s van turned left at a junction, leaving the car in front to set off in the opposite direction. Robin stayed behind the van at a reasonable distance, all the while adrenalin was pumping through his veins. A film of perspiration covered his skin at what he suspected he was about to uncover.

Robin waited discreetly at the side of the road whilst watching Adrian drive into his work unit. There was quite a lot of land at the back of the property. He noticed an outbuilding and an old garage at the rear end. He slowly drove closer to get a better look but stopped immediately when Adrian jumped out of his van and into a car parked next to it. Robin ducked his head down as Adrian began to drive past his Range Rover.

Taking a deep breath, he got out warily, looking around and making sure the coast was clear before quickly jogging into the yard. He glanced through the window at the front of the building, checking nobody was inside. It was empty. Then he made his way round the back. He tried the door of the outbuilding but it was locked. Walking to the side, he saw transparent panelling at the end of the roof. An old oil drum stood nearby and he pushed it to the edge of the building wall, climbing onto it to hitch himself up onto the roof. Looking through the translucent plastic, all he saw was machinery, obviously the outbuilding was just used for storage.

After getting down carefully, Robin then went to the garage behind the building. Wooden and clearly in need of repair, he easily pushed the doors open and stood in shock at what he’d found.

A white transit van.

What’s more, it had a large dent on the bonnet. Robin froze, gulping at the sight before him. He had to clear his head and act quickly. Taking his mobile, he pressed the camera on and took several pictures of the van, particularly the registration number. Then he speedily closed the doors behind him and ran back to his Range Rover at breakneck speed. He couldn’t be caught by Adrian if he came back, or anyone else that might be on these premises.

Panting, he leapt into the driver’s seat and drove back, his mind rattling with what he’d discovered. A white transit van, with a dent in it. It had obviously been involved in some kind of collision – not sold for scrap as Adrian had told Jack. He cast his mind back to Adrian’s strange behaviour and refusal of money. Was it all out of guilt?

Once back at the cottage, he sat on the doorstep, forcing himself to calm down. He then took his phone out again, this time to search the internet. He soon found the article he wanted.

Man Killed in Hit-and-Run Accident

Lancashire Constabulary are appealing for any eyewitnesses in

connection to the death of Thomas Boyd, who was killed in a hit-and-run

accident on Friday night. The collision took place at approximately

eleven p.m. outside The Mariners public house on the high street in

Carston. A white transit van collided into Mr Boyd, rendering him dead

on impact. The vehicle sped off in a northerly direction.

Mr Boyd leaves a widow, Jasmine Boyd. Police are urging the public to

come forward with any information.

Lancashire Evening Standard , 9 October 2021

Oh my God. It had to be the very same van. It all added up: Adrian’s skittish behaviour, not taking Jasmine’s money, lying about his van… What the hell was he to do?

Just then Jack arrived, and he stopped short at seeing Robin sat on the doorstep looking pale and shaken.

‘Rob, what’s going on?’ He crouched down to look at him.

‘Jack, I’ve… found something out…’

‘What, mate?’ asked Jack with concern.

‘It’s Adrian Hall, he killed Jasmine’s husband,’ he whispered.

Jack’s eyes bulged in shock.

‘What?’

‘He lied about his old van. I’ve just seen it. Look, here.’ He showed Jack the photographs he’d taken. Jack let out a gasp, lost for words. ‘See, look at that, Jack—’ Robin pointed out the dented bonnet, ‘that’ll be where he hit him.’

‘But… we can’t just assume—’

‘Adrian said he’d sold his old van for scrap!’ cut in Robin, making Jack halt.

‘Yes, he did,’ he conceded. He inhaled deeply before looking Robin in the eye. ‘So, what do we do now, tell Jasmine?’

‘Hell no! Not yet,’ cried Robin. ‘We need to report it to the police first, let them investigate, make sure it’s definitely him. My money says it is though.’

Jack nodded in agreement, then asked, ‘Do you think we should confront Adrian beforehand?’

‘What? And give him chance to torch the van? It’s evidence, Jack, and it’s in his bloody garage!’ rasped Robin.

‘OK, OK,’ Jack tried to pacify Robin, although he too was beginning to feel on edge. ‘We’ll go to the police together. I’ll drive, you look shaken, Rob.’

All the while, Robin was trying to anticipate Jasmine’s reaction to the news that would inevitably follow. Deep down, Robin knew he had stumbled upon something sinister the likes of which Samphire Bay had never seen.