Wish You Were Here – Part 4

Harper

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First published in Great Britain by Harper 2017

Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2017

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017

Cover illustration © Alice Stevenson

Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © April 2017

ISBN: 9780008219277

Version: 2017-07-11

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Cressida McLaughlin

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Robin Brennan was facing away from the sea, the warm June breeze whispering at her back, the waves marking time with their rhythmic ebb and flow. She thought how peaceful it could have been, before nine o’clock on a Saturday morning, with the sun already shining down on the seaside town of Campion Bay.

But it wasn’t peaceful, because Darren and Fred, two men in scruffy shorts and navy vests, were taking down the temporary stage on the promenade with as much noise as it was possible to make. Robin winced as another metal pole clattered to the ground, and she picked up her takeaway coffee cup, blowing on the hot liquid through the tiny hole in the lid before taking a sip.

‘Who put this up, then?’ Darren asked, flicking a look in Robin’s direction. He was short and squat, with bulging muscles, a sheen of sweat on his large forehead.

‘It was a friend of mine, mainly. Though a few of us helped.’

‘Done a good job,’ Darren said, nodding appreciatively. ‘It’s solid.’

‘I should hope so,’ Robin replied, laughing nervously. She didn’t want to think about what the structure would have been like had it been left to her, Molly, Adam and Paige, struggling to follow the instructions as if putting together a Lego model. A lot of people had stood on that stage.

The open mic night that Robin had organised had been a resounding success, even though it was quite a departure from her day-to-day routine of running the Campion Bay Guesthouse. Lorna, the young woman who had arrived as a guest only two weeks ago, had gone from being shy and timid, her guitar slung almost apologetically over her shoulder, to a confident performer, her voice and playing wowing the crowd on the Campion Bay promenade. Nobody would have guessed that the Lorna who had tripped off the stage had, a few months earlier, been mugged and her confidence shattered. And it wasn’t just Lorna’s performance that had captivated and thrilled: all of the acts had commanded the stage in their own individual ways, and the cheers and applause had been long and loud, drifting up towards the stars.

The compere for the night had also made his mark, although perhaps more with Robin herself than anyone else. Robin pictured Will in his smart blue shirt, standing elevated above them all, his green eyes bright as he addressed the audience. Now she looked up at number four, the house next door to hers, but although the curtains were open there were no signs of life. Given the racket Darren and Fred were making as they flung the braces into the back of their van with wilful abandon, it was highly unlikely Will was still asleep.

For weeks Robin and he had been edging around each other, all because of a silly misunderstanding. She’d hoped that by involving Will in the open mic night she could get him to talk to her again, give her a chance to explain. He’d resisted at first, but in the last few days there’d been definite signs of a thaw, culminating in the moment when he closed the show by telling the audience she was ‘one in a million’.

And then Tim had showed up.

She’d lain awake into the small hours, recalling the hurt in Will’s eyes as Tim had whisked her away to dinner. It had happened so fast, she hadn’t had a chance to tell him it was part of the deal she’d agreed to when Tim’s firm stepped in to sponsor the music night, so it had looked for all the world like she was going on a date with her ex-boyfriend. Assurances that there was nothing going on between her and Tim Lewis would cut no ice. And it wouldn’t be enough simply to tell Will she missed him, that she wanted to try again. She needed to be bold, come right out and admit how much she cared about him, and quash his concerns by spelling out why Tim no longer mattered to her. She would have to lay her heart on the line.

She sipped her coffee in an attempt to calm her nerves, waiting for the moment when the workmen would finish loading their van and drive away so she could cross the road and give it one final, heartfelt shot.

Robin closed her eyes. She heard a door slam further up the street, and the sound of a loud, powerful engine approach and then die. When she looked up, she saw that the car was a black Audi, and it was parking outside the guesthouse. She jolted, almost spilling her coffee. A familiar figure climbed out. His tousled blond hair and faded red shirt struck the right balance between casual and sophisticated, but Tim’s usually relaxed face was scowling. Robin felt her chest tighten as she watched him lock the car and bound up the front stairs of number four.

‘No no no,’ she said to herself. ‘This can’t be happening.’

Last night had not gone the way Tim had planned. The champagne he’d ordered to toast the success of the open mic event and the rekindling of their relationship had barely been touched. She’d told him flat out that, even if she didn’t have reservations about getting back with him, there was nobody in her thoughts now except Will. Tim’s immediate response was disbelief, which then turned to angry resignation. She’d hoped, once he’d had time to digest it, that he would understand. Theirs had been a childhood romance; it had ended when he cheated on her after she left to go to university, but with hindsight she realised they probably would have outgrown each other in any case.

She’d hoped he cared about her enough to accept her decision. Now, she wondered if she had been wrong, and the mountain she was going to have to climb to regain Will’s trust was about to be made much more difficult by the actions of her ex-boyfriend, suffering from wounded pride.

‘I’ve just got to nip over the road and do something,’ she called to Darren and Fred.

‘We’ll only be another five minutes, love, and we need you to sign off the paperwork.’

‘But I have to—’

‘What is the meaning of this?’ asked an angry voice, and Robin spun to find Coral Harris, landlady of the Seaview Hotel, standing in front of her. The old woman was wearing an overly frilly lavender dressing gown pulled tightly around her slender frame, and matching fluffy slippers. Her narrow face was pinched and angry, and the effect, along with the soft fabrics and the pastel colouring, was disconcerting.

‘The meaning of what?’ Robin asked, her eyes drifting back to the houses. Tim was no longer standing on the doorstep. Bile churned in her stomach.

‘All this banging. So early in the morning. So early!’ she repeated, directing her words towards Darren and Fred this time.

Fred shrugged, but Darren had the grace to look contrite. ‘Sorry, lady,’ he said, ‘but it’s not easy to be quiet when you’re working with steel.’

‘I’m sure it could be quieter than this. I enjoyed your entertainment, Robin, but this has tainted it for me. What about my guests? What about yours?’

‘I know,’ Robin said sincerely, touched that Mrs Harris had taken the time to compliment her on the event, even if it was in the middle of a complaint. ‘And I am sorry. But we needed to get the stage off the promenade as soon as possible, and this seemed a better time than late last night.’ She shrugged, her mind full of what Tim might be discussing with Will at that very moment.

She remembered saying to him last night: If Will decides to sell the house and leave Campion Bay for good, before I’ve told him how I really feel, I couldn’t bear it. She had hoped that once Tim had got over the initial hurt, they could clear the air and focus on being friends. But Tim was also a property developer, he’d had his eye on number four Goldcrest Road for a while, and if she’d been thinking clearly then she would have realised that it was an unwise thing to say to a calculating, business-minded man she’d rejected only minutes before.

‘I do think something else could have been arranged,’ Mrs Harris continued, oblivious to Robin’s wandering thoughts. ‘As guesthouse owners, we should be thinking of our clients before anything else, and this is surely not the best way for them to start their weekend.’

Robin swallowed. ‘I completely understand. But it’s only one day, and hopefully most of them got to enjoy the free entertainment.’

‘It’s not right.’ Mrs Harris huffed. ‘Not right at all.’

‘We’re almost done,’ Darren said. ‘We’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy.’ He gave her a wide, cheerful grin and Robin watched as Mrs Harris softened.

‘I suppose if it’s nearly over then I have no more grounds for complaint. But if you do any more of these,’ she said, waggling a schoolmistress-style finger at Robin, ‘then you need to think about logistics. Didn’t you run an events management company before all this?’

‘I did,’ Robin admitted. ‘But the timescales were so short this time. Lorna was only here for a fortnight.’

‘Hmm. Next time.’ She patted Robin’s shoulder and strode off down the promenade in her lavender nightwear.

Robin watched her go, bewildered by the encounter. She wiped her palms down her shorts and looked for any glimmers of movement in the windows of number four. She imagined Tim and Will in the large kitchen, free from the dust and grime it had been covered in the last time she had seen it, their postures stiff over cups of instant coffee.

‘Did you say you were nearly done?’ she asked Darren with forced brightness.

‘We’re on the last bit …’ He worked at a joint with the electric screwdriver, and Robin glanced up to see Ashley and Roxy waving at her. She sighed, hoping they were just passing, and waved back.

‘Robin!’ Ashley gave her a brief hug, bending his tall frame towards her. ‘What a brilliant night.’

‘Your teashop was heaving from start to finish,’ Robin said. ‘I heard so many compliments.’

‘I can’t remember ever being as busy as that,’ Roxy added, her dark eyes wide. ‘I’m glad we hired extra staff for the evening.’

‘But sadly we couldn’t extend the teashop’s square footage,’ Ashley said, laughing. ‘If the pavement was wider, we’d invest in some more outdoor chairs and tables.’

‘Are you going to do any more events?’ Roxy asked. ‘It was such a good night, and not only for business. There was so much talent on that stage – the sound carried into the teashop – and Lorna was wonderful, a real star.’

‘I know,’ Robin said. ‘She’s checking out later today, and I’m going to miss her. To start with, I barely knew she was in the guesthouse she was so quiet, but the last ten days she’s filled the place with laughter and fun – not to mention music – so it’s going to feel strange without her.’

‘Some people are like that, aren’t they?’ Ashley said.

Robin nodded. ‘And it seems to be the guests who stay in Starcross, for some reason. Though there have been only two so far.’

‘Maybe there’s something magical about that room?’ Roxy clapped her hands together, but her husband rolled his eyes.

‘Or they’re the two people who have stayed the longest, so they’ve made more of an impression. Will’s back at his aunt Tabitha’s house now, isn’t he? Do you know if he’s planning on staying in Campion Bay?’

The couple looked slightly anxious, and Robin wondered how worried they were about the rumours of what Tim would do if he bought the property. She knew, now, that their kindness towards Will, bringing him cupcakes and helping him bag up rubbish on his first day working in his aunt’s house, had been sincere, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t also concerned about the seafront changing. Things moved on – it was only natural that they should – but Goldcrest Road didn’t need an upgrade. It was picture-perfect.

‘I don’t know,’ Robin said quietly.

She felt guilty. If Tim was in there, making a deal with Will at that very moment, then she would be responsible. Not in a practical way, but for helping to shape the personal feelings of the two men, which might then impact on their professional decisions. First, hurting Will by holding back the truth, and then angering Tim by rejecting him. If Campion Bay Property made a successful bid, then – despite organising the open mic night – Robin’s hopes of being a valued member of the Campion Bay community would be in tatters.

‘Fair enough.’ Ashley nodded. ‘Guess we’ll have to wait and see. Will’s a good guy, it would be nice if he decided to stick around.’

Robin didn’t voice how much she agreed with him.

They said their goodbyes, and Darren thrust a piece of slightly crumpled paper and a biro into Robin’s hand. ‘Sign here, please, love, to say it’s all been done proper and correct. I’ve confirmed that the stage was passed back to us in good condition.’ He pointed at his own scribbled name.

‘Thank you.’ Robin put the paper on the low wall and signed a scratchy signature. She was relieved the stage was gone, the last remnants of the event removed so the promenade, and Skull Island crazy golf, could get back to normal. It should also have meant she was free to go and see Will, but now she’d have to wait until Tim had left. She couldn’t say everything she needed to in front of him.

She’d taken two steps across the road when the front door of Tabitha’s house opened and Tim came out. She gave a sigh of relief, which was quickly overtaken by anxiety when Will followed him. He was wearing his usual dark jeans and Wrangler boots, and a green T-shirt with a silhouette of the New York skyline on the front. Robin snuck back on to the opposite pavement and watched them walk to the Audi. Will climbed into the passenger seat without noticing her, but Tim glanced towards the sea, and their eyes met. The smirk he gave her was devoid of warmth, his eyes glittering with triumph.

He pulled away from the kerb, and it was then that Will’s head turned in her direction. She saw his expression for only a moment, but he didn’t look happy.

‘What has that bastard done?’ Molly was pacing, wearing away the floorboards in Sea Shanty.

‘I don’t know, but I can take a pretty good guess. He’s told Will something about me, something unkind or made up – or both – and tried to persuade him to sell. I had thought that, after last night, we’d be able to move on from this strange nostalgic dance and be friends.’

‘How long did you go out with Tim for?’ Molly’s blue eyes sparkled with anger, but Robin knew it wasn’t aimed at her. ‘Have you still not realised that Tim is only out for himself, that all he cares about is getting what he wants?’

‘I thought that—’

‘You put faith in him. You’re getting soppy in your old age. So you saw them go off together, in Tim’s car?’

Robin sank on to one of the sofas and her kitten, Eclipse, climbed on to her lap. ‘He looked so righteous, as if now that I won’t have him, he can go after the things that matter to me. He’s going after Will, and he’s doing that by swooping in on Tabitha’s house.’

Molly crouched in front of her, her short blond hair moving in the breeze drifting through the open window. ‘Yes, but Will has to agree to it. He has to formally accept Tim’s offer, and I don’t think he’s ready to do that. I saw you sitting next to each other on the sea wall on Thursday, and I heard what he said at the end of the concert last night. Tim will need some pretty strong leverage to get Will to make a decision right now. He’s not even finished going through Tabitha’s belongings.’

‘But what if he’s been inventing stories about me to try and turn Will against me? I told Tim that I wouldn’t try again with him because of Will – though of course that’s not the only reason – but he knows how strong my feelings are.’

Molly shrugged. ‘So add it to the list of things to talk to Will about. He’s seen for himself that Tim can be ruthless. He’s not stupid, and he’ll have to listen to your side of the story.’

‘And if he’s already decided to sell the house?’

Molly held her gaze. ‘Then it was never meant to be. But I don’t think it will come to that.’

‘You and Will are together?’

They both turned to find Lorna standing in the doorway, her bag and guitar case over her shoulders. Her eyes were glistening.

Robin stood and went to hug her. ‘No, we’re not. It’s complicated. What’s wrong?’

Lorna sniffed and wiped her cheek. ‘I’m gutted to be leaving, that’s all. My taxi should be here any minute.’

‘I could have driven you to the station,’ Robin said.

‘You’ve done more than enough for me – I don’t know if you’ll ever realise how much. Thank you for being so amazing.’

Robin laughed. ‘You were the amazing one. Did you hear yourself up there last night?’

Lorna did a little shimmy, and her face broke out into a huge grin. ‘It was the most fun I’ve ever had. I’ve caught the performing bug – I’m going to be unbearable when I get home.’

‘You deserve to go so far,’ Molly said, waiting her turn and then pulling the younger woman into an embrace.

‘Thank you,’ Lorna said. ‘It doesn’t matter how far I go, a little piece of me will always be here, on that stage, looking out at the crowd with the moon shining down on us. I’ve got about twenty glow sticks in my bag – I hope that’s OK?’

‘Of course it is! Better that than they end up in the bin.’

‘Will seemed to be quite fond of them,’ she said, giving Robin a careful look.

Robin smiled, replaying Will’s introduction in her head. ‘Yes. I didn’t know about that little quirk.’

‘He’d be lucky to have you,’ Lorna said. ‘I wish I could stay longer – I’d move down here in a heartbeat and have that view every day of my life. Luton feels like it’s in a dark hole compared to the light and air you get here. But I – I’d like to be friends. To catch up, to go back to the Artichoke.’ She smiled nervously.

‘We are friends,’ Robin said. ‘And you’re welcome here any time. I’ve loved having you.’ She hugged her again and carried her guitar out to the taxi.

‘Thank you, Robin. Thank you for helping me get my life back on track. I’ll never forget it. Email me: I want to hear all your news.’

Lorna waved out of the open taxi window, then the car disappeared into the distance and Robin was left standing on the doorstep with Molly and Eclipse.

‘Starcross empty again now?’ Molly asked. ‘I wonder who’ll be next.’

‘Me, too,’ Robin said. She chewed her lip, glanced at next door and then rolled her eyes. She couldn’t sit here waiting for Will to come back; she’d drive herself mad.

Her friend seemed to sense her restlessness.

‘Come on. I’ll help you with the changeovers, and then you can get out of here for a bit before your new guests arrive. You’ve been working non-stop on this place and the open mic night – don’t think I can’t see those dark circles under your eyes! If you won’t book in for a facial, then this’ll have to do. We’ll get it done in record time, and you can supply the wine and the takeaway when I come over later. Deal?’ She held out her hand.

Robin smiled, wondering what she’d do without Molly to talk sense to her. ‘Deal,’ she agreed.

The water was calm and smooth, even on Campion Bay’s wild beach, as if it was a shimmering, turquoise lake instead of a vast sea. Robin walked with her bare feet pressing into the soft sand, warmed by the early June sun overhead. Everything was bright, sparkling, alive. She was alone on the beach save for a couple of seagulls and a rogue pigeon waddling alongside them, looking for all the world like it belonged.

Molly had been true to her word and had helped get the guesthouse ready for the new arrivals. Robin had discovered a recipe for lavender cookies after being inspired by Mrs Harris’s amazing ensemble that morning, and planned on baking a batch later, then putting them in jars on all the landings, for guests to help themselves.

But for now, she had a few minutes to herself. She walked away from the water, peering into one of the largest caves that were carved into the cliffs like bite-marks. It was gloomy, stretching back into darkness so dense it was like a black hole, and it smelt of damp and cigarette smoke.

There were wide ledges at waist and shoulder height, and crisp wrappers and empty beer cans that had got snagged in crevices and not been washed out with the tide. It could have been a treasure trove, a place of intrigue and history, but instead it made her feel sad. Who would want to spend time in a place like this? She thought of Paige’s story about Adam and his friends taking a boat to explore the caves further along the coast, unreachable from any beach. It couldn’t be safe, doing it on a whim like that. She moved on, peering up at the sandy cliffs towering above her, a few wispy clouds beyond in a sky of paint-box blue.

She had a lot to be thankful for. She had to remind herself that she had pulled off a successful event in Campion Bay at very short notice, attended by more people than the New Year fireworks. It would soon be time for the summer festivities, the fireworks and funfair that came to Campion Bay every year, and as Robin perched on a large flat rock beneath the cliffs, brushing the loose sand off with her palm, she couldn’t help but wonder where Will would be by the time the fair rolled into town.

Would he still be here, spending his time in his aunt Tabitha’s house, working as a tour guide at Eldridge House, still with things to do? Or would he have sold the house to Tim and gone back to Kent or London? Would the seafront be blotted by heavy scaffolding and plastic sheeting, while they butchered the beautiful building where, the plaque announced, Jane Austen had once stayed? The thought left a lump at the back of her throat.