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

Chapter 17

Robin stood back and admired his and Jack’s handiwork. It had been a great idea to knock the dividing wall down and create the large kitchen diner. The wood burner at the far end really finished the room off nicely.

Whilst pleased with the progress he and Jack were making on the property, Robin was still in a state of anxiety. He needed to talk to Jasmine – and fast. Now that the police had all the information regarding Adrian Hall’s van, he knew time was of the essence. Being absolutely convinced that he’d found Tom Boyd’s killer, he felt the need to forewarn Jasmine so that, when the police suddenly turned up, she wasn’t shocked or triggered by memories of them calling in the past.

Knowing he had to broach the subject with hypersensitive care, Robin thought carefully about where, when and how to have the conversation. This was potentially going to have a catastrophic effect on Jasmine and, once again, he became very aware of his feelings for her and just how protective he felt. Yes, he could tell Jack he was merely being neighbourly and try to disguise his true emotions, but he couldn’t kid himself, could he?

Robin was slowly coming to terms that Jasmine had most definitely got under his skin. His thoughts permanently gravitated back to her and flashbacks of their time together forever played in his mind. But this wasn’t just any woman he could make a move on. Jasmine was a vulnerable, young widow. He was reminded of how her hand frequently reached up to touch that heart pendant she wore. Was he wrong to want a dead man’s wife?

As if on cue, his thoughts were interrupted by Jasmine herself tapping on the window.

‘Hi!’ she called through the glass.

‘Come in, door’s open,’ he mouthed, thumbing towards the back door.

She soon joined him in the kitchen diner.

‘Wow! This looks amazing!’ she exclaimed as soon as she saw the new space.

‘Yeah, I’m quite pleased with the result.’ Robin nodded modestly.

‘Quite pleased? You should be ecstatic, it’s fantastic.’ She laughed and Robin looked into her warm, brown eyes and melted. Was he about to change all this? Would those gorgeous eyes soon be filled with tears? He gulped.

‘You OK?’ Jasmine asked, puzzled by his expression.

Robin inwardly shook himself. ‘Yeah, fine.’

‘Right, well, I’ve seen Bunty,’ she said positively.

‘Ah, good,’ he replied.

‘And is Saturday night good for you?’

‘Yes, that’s great.’

‘That’s settled then. Bunty’s looking forward to it.’ She hesitated, as though wanting to say something further. Now Robin frowned, sensing an awkward pause.

‘Robin…?’

‘Yeah?’

‘If–if you thought you had information… important knowledge concerning someone… would you…’ She stalled again.

‘Would I what?’ asked Robin, suddenly beginning to feel alarmed. Had she got wind of his dilemma? Did she know exactly what was on his mind?

‘Would you tell them?’ she finished, staring at him intently.

Robin let out a nervous sigh and ran a hand through his dark curls.

‘I think so,’ he answered cautiously.

‘Yes, I thought you’d say that,’ Jasmine said, sounding somewhat reassured.

‘Can I ask what the information is?’ Robin asked tentatively.

Jasmine blew out a breath. ‘It’s about Bunty.’

‘Bunty?’ Robin was surprised but, in equal measure, relieved.

‘Hmm, those photographs were spread out on a table when I went to visit her. They’re obviously precious to her. She looked so sentimental about them, even told me the man’s name.’

‘Really?’ Robin said, wide-eyed. He thought Bunty, more than anyone, would have kept quiet about such a personal detail.

‘Yes, he’s called Perry. Does the name ring any bells with you?’

‘No, but it wouldn’t. I only moved to Samphire Bay in my teens. This Perry had most probably been long gone by then.’

‘Yeah, probably,’ she agreed. ‘But it resonated with me. So much so, I did a bit of—’

‘Snooping?’ Robin laughed at the irony; he knew all about snooping.

‘Researching,’ corrected Jasmine and told him all she’d uncovered.

‘I’m impressed, Sherlock,’ Robin laughed again.

‘But don’t you see? It’s left me in a bit of a quandary,’ Jasmine pointed out. You and me both , he thought wryly. ‘Do you think I should contact this Perry from Lancaster?’

Robin breathed in, considering his reply.

‘I think…’ he hesitated.

‘Yes?’ she prompted eagerly, leaning forward.

‘I think, if you believe it’s in Bunty’s best interests, then yes, maybe you should contact him.’

Jasmine nodded as though Robin had confirmed her decision.

‘Although, it very well might not be him—’

‘In which case, no harm done,’ she interrupted.

‘Yes, but if it is him and he’s a wife and family, would he want contact?’ warned Robin.

‘As an old friend he might,’ Jasmine countered.

‘And more importantly, what about Bunty? Would she want contact?’ he pressed.

‘Hmm, a lot to think about,’ Jasmine said contemplatively.

A pensive moment passed, then Robin decided this was the right time, and inhaled deeply.

‘Jasmine… there’s something I need to tell you actually.’ He looked at her gravely, hating that he was about to bring this storm onto her.

‘What?’ She sensed something ominous from Robin’s manner. He looked troubled, uncomfortable.

‘Can we go to yours? I think we need to sit down with a drink.’ He thought it best for Jasmine to be in her own familiar surroundings, not stood there in his newly refurbished kitchen.

‘OK.’ She frowned, wondering what on earth Robin was about to tell her.

An hour later Robin was holding a shaken, crying Jasmine. He wrapped her tightly in his arms as she juddered in shock and distress.

‘Do you think… he–he definitely k–killed Tom?’ she stuttered.

‘Time will tell, but the police certainly took what I reported very seriously. They have your details too, so could be in touch imminently.’

More sobs followed, making Robin wince. He held her firmly, in some vain hope that he could absorb some of the emotional pain currently wracking her body. He’d do anything to mend her , anything . He looked down towards her blonde head resting on his shoulder and instinctively his mouth dipped down to kiss it. Then realising what he’d just done, froze. She hadn’t even noticed, and he breathed out in relief.

‘Robin?’ she croaked.

‘Yes?’ he replied huskily, fighting his own emotions.

‘Will you stay, here, tonight? I don’t want to be alone, especially if the police come.’

‘Of course I will,’ he immediately answered. Then thought about the logistics, where would he sleep?

‘I’ve a camp bed in the spare room,’ Jasmine told him, answering his question.

‘No problem, I’ll be here for you,’ he told her, his voice slightly catching.

As he settled down, Robin stared up into the darkness and took stock of the day. It had certainly been an emotional one. Then again, on reflection, the last few days had been rather taxing for him. He pictured himself on Adrian Hall’s premises, climbing the roof of his building, opening up his garage doors, then scampering off through the yard. What if someone had seen him, or even worse, told Adrian? Would there be repercussions? He remembered Adrian having a bit of a rough reputation. Was he in for a bruising? But reason kicked in – what option had he but to involve the police? He’d face ten Adrian Halls if it meant doing the right thing by Jasmine. His eyes filled at how she had reacted. Poor Jasmine, he so wanted to care and shield her.

His thoughts took a darker turn. If Adrian was charged, it would be all over the press and get intense media coverage. Road deaths and hit-and-runs happened all the time, sure, and didn’t get much coverage, but in their surrounding communities, this had been a huge regional shock at the time – no doubt reporters would want to wrap up the story now it had an ending. Reporters were bound to turn up at the cottages, wanting to snap pictures of Jasmine, even attempt to interview or get a response from her. It was going to be a nightmare. Perhaps he ought to suggest she go back to her parents’ house until it all settled? But then, he suspected, the press would already know their address from when the accident happened. A plan was starting to form in his head, which seemed ideal the more he considered it.