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

Chapter 21

It was a very subdued Bunty who climbed wearily up the stairs, followed by Jasmine and Robin. The dinner party had ended on a bit of a cliff hanger moment. It had well and truly given Bunty food for thought. Gone was her usual candid bonhomie, to be replaced with a still, reflective mood. She turned to them when reaching the landing.

‘Good night, darlings. Robin, you’re in the Blue Room.’ Then, without another word she disappeared into her own bedroom, leaving Jasmine and Robin staring after her. After hearing the door slam shut, Jasmine looked sheepishly at Robin.

‘Do you think I should have told her about Perry?’ she asked, eyes searching his face.

‘Yes, why not tell her?’ replied Robin.

‘It’s made an impact on her though, hasn’t it?’

Jasmine heaved a sigh and sank onto the chaise lounge in the landing corridor. She leant forward and put her head in her hands, feeling fuzzy and confused.

‘Oh Robin, what have I done? I shouldn’t have interfered with things that don’t concern me,’ she whined.

Robin almost laughed out loud with the irony of it all. Sitting down, he gently consoled her.

‘Listen, Jasmine, you acted with the best of intentions and meant well.’ He paused, but deciding to continue, added in a hushed voice, ‘I wouldn’t feel guilty anyway… because…’

Jasmine’s head shot up.

‘Because what?’ she said.

‘Because Bunty’s done exactly the same with you – us – actually.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jasmine blinked, trying to clear her blurry mind.

‘Bunty set us up. She deliberately sold one cottage to each of us, with the plan of us getting together.’ There, he’d said it. It was finally out in the open. He looked straight at Jasmine to study her response.

‘You mean… romantically?’ she asked incredulously. A bit too incredulously for Robin’s liking. Was it so unbelievable they should be linked romantically?

‘Yes,’ he answered flatly, looking down towards his black polished shoes.

There was an awkward pause, before he felt Jasmine’s shoulders shaking and heard her restrained laughter. ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, rather offended. Not only was it unbelievable, but hilarious too? Charming.

‘Oh Robin, she knocked quite a lot off the asking price, and all because she was playing cupid,’ she chortled, doubled over in laughter.

‘I know, ten thousand,’ he said with a derisive smile.

‘You mean…?’

‘Yeah, she did the same for me, reduced by ten grand,’ he answered dryly. He waited for her to stop giggling and calm down, assuming – hoping – it was more to do with the champagne than anything else. Once she had, he dared to ask, ‘Aren’t you offended? That she’s tried to manipulate us?’

‘Not really.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a bit odd that she felt the need to matchmake, but I suppose it’s kind of endearing in a way.’

He stared into those brown eyes and was mesmerised. What a complex creature she was. Jasmine had reacted so differently to how he’d expected. Perhaps because she had recently seen another side to Bunty, and having sought refuge in her home had clearly made her feel safe. She obviously now viewed Bunty as a friend and trusted her. All the same, he was still a little put out that Jasmine found the thought of them being a couple so hilarious. As though reading his mind, Jasmine lent forward to kiss his cheek.

‘Good night, Robin,’ she whispered.

He stilled. Her lips felt soft and warm.

‘Night, Jasmine,’ he replied in a hoarse voice, then watched her get up and sashay down the landing in that damned sexy dress. She’d kissed him. Albeit on the cheek, but even so, she’d kissed him.

Bunty was unable to sleep. After all this time, Perry had been close by. She’d always assumed he had cast his net far and wide, to some distant place. Now it transpired he had a narrowboat and was living in Lancaster. Still, she told herself, just knowing his location didn’t really alter things. He could be happily married, surrounded by numerous children and grandchildren. She pictured them all aboard his boat, rosy cheeked cherubs smiling up at him, steering the wheel, as they chugged merrily up the canal.

A shard of jealousy stabbed her. Oh, to be surrounded by such love, and here she was, all alone. A tear trickled down her face. If only she could turn back time. Another vision of Perry drifted into her mind, on his red sailing boat, presenting her with that sparkling aquamarine ring. If only…

The next morning, all three of them sat around the breakfast table in a comfortable silence, while nursing their hangovers. They each had much to contemplate. Robin still hadn’t got over that kiss; however innocent it appeared to be given, he couldn’t help but hope it was a sign. Might Jasmine possibly see him as more than just a good friend? Could this be the beginning of something? He discreetly stole a side glance at her. She seemed natural and normal as ever, then on catching his eye she smiled.

‘Do you want some, Robin?’ she asked him.

Did he ever. ‘Hmm, sorry?’ He blinked.

‘Tea?’ She grinned, holding up the teapot.

‘Oh… yes, thanks.’

Bunty seemed in a world of her own, slowly munching on toast, gazing into space. Jasmine put the teapot down and coughed.

‘Bunty, about last night…’ she started.

Bunty snapped out of her reverie.

‘Yes, darling, what about last night?’

‘I’m sorry for mentioning Perry. I should have kept my mouth shut.’

‘No, you shouldn’t have,’ retorted Bunty. ‘You followed your gut instinct and I’d have done the same.’

Robin slid Bunty a sly look, which wasn’t lost on her. She knew exactly what he was thinking and he was right. She herself had done the very same. Nothing wrong with giving fate a helping hand. And now, she was about to do it once more. She inhaled deeply.

‘And I’m about to follow my gut instinct again,’ she announced causing Robin and Jasmine to look up sharply.

‘What are you about to do precisely?’ asked Robin with caution.

‘I’m going to contact Perry,’ Bunty said with conviction.

Bunty sat poised, pen and paper at the ready. She needed time and space to think, so had barricaded herself in Daddy’s old study. It was situated right at the top of the house, with a huge picture window overlooking the bay. The surrounding walls contained bookcase cabinets with an upper railing, where a wooden ladder ran along.

As a child, Bunty had had lots of fun, climbing and pushing herself along the track, picking out all manner of books. The Deville family held an eclectic taste in reading. From her father’s art books ranging from the Renaissance period to the Arts and Crafts movement, her mother’s biographies of the rich and famous and of course, all things art deco whether it be architecture or fashion, to Bunty’s childhood reads including Charlotte’s Web, Tom’s Midnight Garden and the full Enid Blyton The Secret Seven series.

She’d whiled away many a rainy day here, absorbed in the pages of books, providing escapism and adventure to a child’s imagination.

Now though, she was applying her mind as an adult, on a sincere mission. Bunty was at pains to pitch the letter just right. She didn’t know what she was dealing with, after all. Not knowing what position Perry was in, meant she had to tread very carefully. Bunty decided to keep it affable and platonic, a case of old friends getting in touch. In many ways, that’s what she was – just an old friend reaching out. What could go wrong? A lot , she glumly told herself. Supposing he didn’t even remember her? Unlikely! her instincts snapped back, and, as if in support, a flash of inspiration struck her. She’d enclose a photograph of them, surely that would strike a nerve? Yes, now which one to choose… Once again Bunty had the pictures spread out on the desk in front of her. After glancing over them, she selected the one at the beach, where they were paddling in the sea. What a magical day that had been. Then, with a steely nerve she began writing.

Dear Perry,

This may come as a surprise to you, but better late than never!

I’ve enclosed a photograph which recently came into my possession. I remember that day at the beach so well; such happy memories created.

I often think about you, Perry, and the times we shared. For me, I’ve never had such like with anyone else. I expect you’re happily married with a large family by now and wish you well.

If, however, you are in a position where you would like to reacquaint, it would be nice to meet up once again.

As you probably guessed, I’m still here in Samphire Bay, living in the ‘big house’ as you called it, on the peninsula.

With very best wishes,

Bunty

There. Short, sweet and succinct. Not too gushy or pushy. If Perry wanted to respond, he knew her address and could write a letter back. She refrained from giving her mobile or landline number, not wanting to be caught off guard by an unexpected call. No, she had to be prepared, not put on the spot. Perry could read her letter and have time to decide his actions, if any. It would come as a complete shock hearing from an old love after all this time and he would need breathing space to reflect and contemplate. If he was happily married, he could write a jolly letter back, thanking her for getting in touch and explain his circumstances, no harm done. If he was single, living alone, then he might well be glad of her company and be pleased Bunty had contacted him.

Bunty folded the letter and slipped it inside an envelope along with the photograph. Jasmine had supplied his address:

Fisher’s Cottage

Spinney Lane

Galgate

Lancaster

Jasmine had also typed in Perry’s address into her laptop and got his cottage up on a street view map. There he was, Bunty thought, tucked away in a pretty, little cottage on the edge of a leafy lane. She took in the ivy climbing up the grey stone, its white studded door and its house sign, Fisher’s Cottage, carved into a piece of driftwood. All so tasteful. The question was, who else, if anyone, lived there?

Jasmine was also sat taking stock downstairs in the kitchen. Having created graphics to accompany written text for an event brochure, she was in need of a break. Instead of doing the sensible thing and making a well-earned cup of coffee, she had kept her laptop open and searched for news of Tom’s killers. There was plenty. Those daunting faces of Adrian Hall and Ian Dixon stared up at her. Bile seeped up her throat, threatening to spew out. She got up, shaking, and quickly switched on the tap. Cupping her hands underneath the cold water, she splashed her face, then ducked down under the stream to gulp a few mouthfuls. That was better. Feeling slightly refreshed, she pushed the laptop cover shut. Enough.

How long would she have to hide out here? Jasmine missed her own home. It was now day three in Bunty’s house, undercover on the peninsula. Surely she should be yesterday’s news by now? Judging by what she’d just read, Ian Dixon had been charged with manslaughter and Adrian Hall in perverting the course of justice. They had both pleaded guilty and were awaiting sentencing. Jasmine had been contacted by the police so was aware of this development, but seeing it sprawled before her on the screen was too much to absorb.

Her parents had offered to visit, as well as her brother, but Jasmine had put them off, assuring them all she was fine. Which she was. Most of the time. Apart from the occasional wobble like earlier. All she had to do was sit it out, she kept telling herself. Her thoughts were interrupted by Bunty entering the kitchen.

‘I’m going to the post office,’ she told her, waving the letter in the air.

‘Good luck, Bunty.’ Jasmine smiled, proud of the old lady she was growing rather accustomed to. She had half anticipated being shown the letter and was secretly relieved. It was personal and she hadn’t wanted to be privy to its contents. She was curious, on the other hand, to its repercussions. Jasmine couldn’t help but feel responsible. She hoped and prayed it would all end well for Bunty and Perry. It seemed such a waste to think of two people, who clearly loved each other once, being apart. Of course, this was assuming Perry was available. Even so, Jasmine conceded, there was nothing wrong in just being friends, if Perry did have a partner. It could open up a whole new world for each of them she concluded.