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

Chapter 29

Jack braced himself as he walked into the empty shop, knowing Trish’s sole attention would focus on him.

‘Hi, Trish,’ he called, darting straight down the first aisle, taking his time to select items. He willed the door’s bell to ring and give Trish other customers to keep her busy. But alas, there was no footfall coming through and he reluctantly walked to the till.

‘Have you heard about Robin?’ she asked, not even attempting to check out his shopping.

‘What about Robin?’ he said resignedly.

‘He was seen the other night, on the beach with Jasmine Boyd. All snuggled up on a rug apparently,’ she whispered furtively.

A slow smile crept onto Jack’s face. Good for him, about time, he thought, pleased for his mate. Then another thought occurred, which niggled at him.

He narrowed his eyes at the shopkeeper. ‘How do you know this, Trish?’

‘Can’t say,’ she answered primly.

This annoyed Jack more so. He was tired of Trish’s tittle-tattling and supposed she was behind Ellie’s knowledge of Jasmine. The woman was a menace. Ellie could really have screwed things up for Robin. He decided to tactfully address her careless talk.

‘Did you speak to Ellie, Robin’s ex-girlfriend?’ Her blush told him she must have. ‘Only she’s been in Samphire Bay, causing all sorts of trouble. Apparently she knew all about Robin, that he was renovating a cottage and the help he’d given Jasmine.’ He looked at her steadily, waiting for a response.

‘Well, she might have come into the shop…’

‘Asking questions?’ Jack stared her in the face. Did the woman know no loyalty? Everybody in Samphire Bay knew how badly Robin had been treated by Ellie.

‘Well… yes, as a matter of fact she was…’

‘And you filled her in? Told her everything she wanted to know?’ he asked incredulously.

Trish looked down, shamefaced.

Jack gave a hard sigh.

‘Listen, Trish, a word of advice here,’ he lowered his voice. ‘You have got to learn to keep your—’ he stopped and tried again, ‘to keep quiet.’ He mimed pulling a zip across his mouth.

Trish’s eyes bulged. ‘Pardon?’ she sounded offended and chastised at the same time.

‘You can’t go blabbing all and sundry about people, Trish, it could have consequences. How would you like it, if everyone knew your every move?’ Not that there’d be much to say, he thought. Perhaps that’s why the woman was so fascinated with other people’s lives.

‘I… I…’ spluttered Trish.

‘Remember, keep schtum, OK?’ Jack nodded towards his shopping. ‘Now can I please pay for that?’

Trish served him with a crimson, tight-lipped face and Jack left with a sense of accomplishment. All the same, he did drive straight to the cottage to see Robin.

Robin was finishing varnishing the floorboards in the last bedroom. Once that was done, it was time to sell. A sadness filled him. Out of all the renovating projects he’d worked on, this cottage had been his favourite. And why was that? he asked himself with only a dash of sarcasm. Having a gorgeous, blonde-haired, brown-eyed beauty next door had most definitely played a part. He hummed cheerfully to the radio as his brush swept across the wood. Ironically, Van Morrison was singing ‘Brown Eyed Girl’. He stopped at hearing footsteps on the stairs.

‘In here, mate!’ Robin called.

Jack appeared at the doorway. ‘Hi, looking good,’ he pointed to the shiny varnished floor.

‘Yep, then that’s it, all done,’ Robin said, which prompted him to tell Jack about Bunty’s offer of buying back the cottage.

‘Straight up?’ asked Jack in surprise.

‘Yeah, she’s putting her house on the market,’ said Robin.

‘Blimey, I never thought she’d leave that place.’ Jack was still in shock. ‘Not that I blame her, it’s vast.’

‘And costly. She’s going to need a new boiler, plus the amount that needs spending on it.’

Jack narrowed his eyes. Robin knew instantly what he was thinking.

‘No, mate, it’s too big a project and we’d never raise the capital to buy it,’ he counselled.

Jack nodded his head reluctantly, realising he was being far too ambitious.

‘Still, it’s a great buy for someone,’ he conceded. ‘Anyway, I believe you and the lovely Jasmine have finally got it together.’ He quirked an eyebrow.

Robin laughed. ‘We might have.’

‘Come on then, spill,’ Jack said eagerly.

Robin briefly outlined the barbeque on the beach, editing out the romantic kiss on the rug. The main thing was that the feelings he had were reciprocated by her. His chest filled with utter joy; he’d never know such bliss. It obviously showed on his face, as Jack came over and gave him a hug.

‘I’m pleased for you, Rob. It’s good to see you so happy.’ Jack smiled and decided not to tell him about his conversation with Trish. Any mention of Ellie would only sour the mood.

‘So, what do we do about the cottage? Sell it back to Bunty?’ asked Robin.

Jack shrugged. ‘Why not? Although I’m not sure for how much.’

‘Especially after she knocked ten grand off the asking price,’ Robin said, having had similar thoughts.

‘We’ll do the same, just take ten grand off the current value,’ reasoned Jack.

There was a pause.

‘How did you know?’ Robin suddenly asked.

‘What?’

‘About me and Jasmine, how did you know?’

‘Trish, but she wouldn’t reveal who told her,’ Jack said flatly. ‘Apparently you were seen cosying up on a rug.’ He shot Robin a sly grin.

Robin chuckled, too happy to care. So what?

Jasmine was working on the cover for a sweet romance, the brief asking for a cross between countryside and vintage. She rather liked choosing colourful, floral bunting to swoop over the title and depicting a young couple sitting at a bistro table holding hands. Maybe it was her frame of mind that made her enjoy the project so much today.

She cast her mind back to the barbeque on the beach with Robin and couldn’t help but feel warm and tingly inside. It seemed an age since she had felt anything that resembled passion. Yet passion was what she did feel for Robin, there could be no denying how her body had responded to his.

Jasmine had felt a cocktail of emotions these past few days, longer even. From attraction, jealously, confusion, guilt and now… serenity, happy in her own skin. Love must be in the air, she chuckled to herself, remembering the drive home from Lancaster with Bunty.

Jasmine had dropped Bunty off outside the castle and, after being assured that she’d be fine, had parked nearby and wandered round the shops. She’d picked up a brass table lamp from an antique shop and a pair of brass candlestick holders. Her living room still needed finishing and she thought they’d look good in there once it was decorated and ready for the final touches. She’d also bought, to her delight, a framed picture of Samphire Bay. It was a small watercolour print which captured the beauty of the landscape. She had thought of going on a tour of Lancaster Castle but didn’t want to run the possibility of Bunty seeing her and think she was spying. Instead, she opted to go for a coffee on the high street and watch the world go by from a table by the window.

Sipping her latte, she took stock of her life and all that it had thrown at her. She’d accepted the tragic turn of events in her life and had come out the other side stronger than she ever could have expected. She’d got through it. She was now in a good place.

Jasmine reflected on the people she’d met. Robin and Bunty, two people she had grown so close to that it was impossible to think she hadn’t even known them this time last year. She didn’t want to go back to that harrowing, painful time. Her memories of Tom and their life together would always be precious, but it was time to move on and she felt resilient enough to do so now.

After finishing her coffee, she decided upon a touch of retail therapy and bought some new make-up and a silk nightshirt. On impulse, she called into a nail bar for a manicure. Why not? she thought, it had been ages since she’d pampered herself. The assistant behind the counter grimaced at the state of her nails, making Jasmine smirk. What did she expect when she’d subjected them to ripping out kitchen units, a bathroom, wallpaper stripping, painting and tiling?

‘Oh dear, never mind, we’ll soon have them in tip-top shape,’ the technician promised, lining up a row of colourful nail varnish bottles. ‘Now, which one should we go for?’

Jasmine wanted to be daring. ‘The bright crimson please,’ she said almost defiantly, never having had such a vivid shade before.

‘Excellent choice!’ exclaimed the beautician and set to work.

It was amazing how just a manicure could give you a boost, thought Jasmine as she pushed out of the glass doors with her newly polished nails.

All in all, Jasmine had had a very productive day and when she’d collected Bunty later in the afternoon, she knew her friend had also had a good time.

‘How did it go?’ Jasmine asked as soon as Bunty had got in the car.

‘Splendid, darling, simply splendid,’ gushed Bunty, to Jasmine’s delight, then proceeded to give her a full lowdown.

After listening to Bunty’s account, sparing no detail, Jasmine was full of hope.

‘It all sounds so promising,’ she remarked excitedly.

‘It was like going back in time, Jasmine. Perry was, is still—’

‘Full of charisma and utterly handsome?’ cut in Jasmine with a giggle.

‘Yes,’ Bunty said, ‘yes, he is.’ And with that she sat back and sighed like a lovestruck teenager.

Jasmine grinned, finding the whole thing entertaining. It was good to see Bunty like this, upbeat and positive. She thrived in company. Once again, she considered how lonely Bunty must get, living alone in that great house on an isolated peninsula.

When they’d arrived at the house, she had accepted Bunty’s invitation to go inside for a drink but, instead of going to the glass drinks cabinet in the drawing room, Bunty headed for the kitchen.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she said over her shoulder, surprising Jasmine as she followed.

For Jasmine, the kitchen was one of her preferred rooms in the house. Having cooked in there for the dinner party, she’d quite liked its quirky free-standing units, ancient Aga, white pot butler sink and stone floor. A sturdy shelf above the stove held pots and pans of all sizes and a glass cabinet displayed fine bone China. All it lacked was a frilly aproned cook, which she assumed it once had. Even the kettle was copper and had a whistle attached to its spout. It was all so quaint and reminiscent of the 1930s. She found it amusing that Perry wouldn’t notice any change whatsoever if he were to revisit the place.

‘I take it you’ll be meeting Perry again soon?’ she asked, whilst Bunty made the tea.

‘Oh yes, we both want to see each other again,’ replied Bunty. Putting the cups of tea on the kitchen table and sitting down next to Jasmine, she added, ‘That’s the beauty of being old, you’re more upfront, say what you really feel.’ She faced Jasmine and looked her in the eye. The statement was clearly loaded.

Jasmine couldn’t help but believe there was a message intended for her.

‘I hear what you say,’ Jasmine spoke in a quiet voice, ‘and I now know how I feel, about Robin that is,’ she admitted, looking into the wise, old face of her friend.

‘But does Robin?’ Bunty questioned softly.

‘Yes.’ Jasmine gave a wobbly smile, not trusting herself to start blubbering.

‘Come here, my darling.’ Bunty’s arms enveloped round her in a reassuring way. She smelt of Blue Grass perfume and compact powder.

‘It’s a weird feeling, you know, after Tom…’ Jasmine mumbled into Bunty’s shoulder.

‘I know, darling, I know,’ soothed Bunty, then pulled away to face her at arm’s length. ‘But would Tom really want you to live the rest of your life alone?’

Jasmine gulped. ‘No, no he wouldn’t.’

‘Well then.’ Bunty smiled kindly, making the sides of her eyes crinkle.

‘You’ve been a good friend to me,’ said Jasmine, still on the verge of tears.

‘And you me,’ replied Bunty somewhat teary herself. Then she inwardly pulled herself together. ‘Nice nails BTW.’ She winked, and Jasmine couldn’t stop her laughter.