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  She laughed and turned away. ‘Not sure I should help, if that’s your attitude. Let you suffer.’

  ‘Thank you, Robin. For this, for earlier – for tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow hasn’t happened yet,’ she said, her heart thrumming as she went into the kitchen to wrap some frozen peas in a tea towel. Already, she couldn’t wait for it to start.

  Chapter Six

  The weather the next day was as glorious as the forecast had predicted, and they walked along Campion Bay’s wild beach carrying their shoes. Darcy raced ahead, bounding in and out of the water, yipping and running back to Will before racing off again, dancing with the waves.

  ‘It’s the most animated I’ve ever seen her,’ Robin said, laughing.

  ‘She loves the beach,’ Will admitted. ‘I feel guilty every time we finish our walk or our swim and she goes back to being a perfect, well-behaved dog. She should be having fun, you know? I wouldn’t mind the odd chewed shoe or jacket if it meant she was really happy, but I think Selina drummed obedience into her.’

  ‘The beach is where she feels free,’ Robin said. ‘I can identify with that. There are no restrictions on this part, so even in the summer months you can bring her here.’

  ‘I’ve never been this far down,’ Will said. ‘The current looks wilder here – I’m not sure it’s safe for swimming.’

  ‘No, it’s treacherous, and the waves come right into the cliffs. Also, look.’ She pointed at a dark hollow of a cave, a ledge inside it at roughly shoulder height. ‘People go fossil hunting in there, though there can’t be any left now, and I’ve heard teenagers use it for … other activities. But when the tide’s high, it’s so dangerous. I love walking here, knowing that you’re moments away from being at nature’s mercy.’

  ‘Are you a secret thrill-seeker, then? I hadn’t imagined that about you.’

  ‘I’m not one for rollercoasters or jumping out of planes, I just like the wildness of this beach, how it still feels prehistoric. It’s away from Campion Bay – away from everything. It’s the perfect place to think.’

  ‘I can see that.’ Will crouched in the sand and ruffled Darcy’s fur as she raced up to him, barking elatedly. ‘We’re converts.’

  ‘That was easy,’ Robin laughed, watching while Will played tug-of-war with Darcy and a stick, water splashing on to his faded navy shorts and black T-shirt. He seemed so much more relaxed today, the colour returning to his cheeks after only a short time in the sun. After icing his wrist the evening before, she’d got her first-aid kit out and inexpertly wrapped it in a bandage, despite his protestations. Now the bandage was damp and the end had come undone, flapping gently in the breeze. She didn’t think it would last the rest of the day, but she was glad. She hated to think of him as injured or in pain, though the revelation of the day before and its impact on him wouldn’t disappear as easily as a bruise.

  ‘Come on.’ She held out her arm towards his good hand and waited for him to grab it, before pulling him to his feet. ‘I’ve got lots more to show you.’

  ‘Why do you eat those sweets?’ she asked as they walked along the promenade towards the centre of town. ‘Rhubarb and custard. I used to get them from the sweet shop on my way home from school. You must have bought up all their stock by now.’

  ‘It’s a bad habit,’ Will admitted. ‘I used – years ago – to work for my dad’s building firm. He always wanted me to go into the business with him; I think he saw me taking it over one day, so I started as a labourer.’

  ‘Hence your ability to fix the leak,’ Robin said.

  ‘That’s a patch-up job; I need to get a plumber in to take a proper look at it. But I’m generally handy with DIY – except when it comes to stubborn cupboards.’

  ‘How’s your wrist feeling?’

  ‘Much better, thanks.’ He held his arm out, and they both inspected the soaked, sandy bandage. ‘Shit. Sorry, Robin.’

  She waved him away. ‘I’m glad you don’t need it any more. Anyway, carry on. Why did working for your dad turn you to candy?’

  ‘Most of the builders smoked on site. It wouldn’t be allowed these days – health and safety regulations – but this was before the ban and so … I wanted to fit in. I smoked for five years and then, when I changed jobs, I tried to give up. Nothing worked, my willpower wasn’t great, and then someone recommended boiled sweets.’

  ‘It helped?’ Robin stopped to take off her ballet pump and dispose of a pebble that had lodged itself in the toe.

  ‘Yup. So now I’m going to die from diabetes instead of lung cancer. I need a new, healthier habit to get me over the sweets.’

  ‘Peas?’ Robin asked lamely. ‘Apples, bananas?’

  Will gave her a horrified look.

  ‘OK, fair point. Bridget Jones replaces smoking and calories with sex,’ she said, shocked by her own brazenness. ‘But if you’ve got a twenty-a-day habit then maybe that’s not practical.’

  ‘It’s a nice thought, though,’ Will said, squinting up at the sun, ‘and burns calories as well as replacing the sugar, so I can see the merits. Maybe I should be more creative.’

  ‘Not sure I want to know what that means,’ Robin said, catching his gaze.

  He laughed and looked away from her.

  Robin waited until her pulse had settled before she asked her next question. ‘What did your dad say when you decided not to follow in his footsteps? He doesn’t sound like the most forgiving person.’

  Will sighed. ‘He’s not. He’s – very strong-minded. We don’t always see eye to eye, and my decision not to go into the family business was just one in a series of things I got wrong, in his opinion. Now I know about Tabitha, it makes a horrible kind of sense. Dad’s prouder of his company than anything else, and he would have seen what she did as going against that, so …’ He shook his head. ‘We don’t see each other very often, though I try and meet up with Mum when I can.’

  ‘Are you going to talk to him about what you’ve discovered?’ she asked gently.

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t got my head around it all yet.’

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Today is supposed to be about fun, and I’m not following my own rules. I’ve got Paige covering for me at the guesthouse, and she won’t do it often at the weekends so I want to make the most of it. I’m going to show you this beautiful gallery I’ve found, and then we can get some lunch.’

  ‘What time does the tournament begin?’ he asked, steering Darcy out of the path of a woman with a buggy who was coming the other way.

  ‘After we’ve eaten. But I have to warn you, I’ve got my game face on.’

  She showed him round Seagull Street Gallery and talked herself out of buying the new Arthur Durrant painting, even though Will was as mesmerised by the night-time landscape as she was, and then took him for lunch in the Artichoke. Over sandwiches and pints of local ale, he told her about working at Downe Hall, about how varied his days were, and how he’d begun to feel a part of the small team who owned and ran it.

  ‘So you were sad to leave, then? To come here and have to start again?’

  He nodded. ‘I was, but also, it was the right time. One of my relationships there had become …’ He searched for the word. ‘Frayed.’

  ‘A romantic one?’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Oh come on, Will. Relationships don’t get “frayed” because you disagree with someone about which order to run the tours in, or you’ve hung a painting slightly wonky.’

  He folded his arms on the table. ‘How do you know? The staff at Downe Hall take their décor – and ancestral paintings, especially – very seriously.’

  ‘Why else would you think it was best to leave, then?’

  He narrowed his eyes at her and then nodded, conceding the point. ‘People always tell you not to mix business and pleasure, especially when you live in the same place. Annie is the daughter of the couple who own Downe Hall. It was perhaps not the best decision to get involved with her.’

 
‘Yikes,’ Robin said softly, trying not to feel envious of a woman she’d only just found out about. ‘It sounds like Downton Abbey. Do you mind me asking what happened?’

  ‘She found someone else.’

  ‘What a cow!’

  He laughed. ‘It happens; people move on. But it did make things at the hall strained. I tried to get on with it; I like to think I wasn’t petty or jealous, but it certainly helped me to finally bite the bullet and come down here. Though that’s been a bit “out of the frying pan”.’

  Robin’s heart skipped a beat. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Going from one difficult situation to the next. Dealing with my aunt’s stuff, her past, this never-ending treadmill of boxes and cupboards and shelves to sort through.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘Shall I get the bill?’

  Will insisted on paying for lunch, then they took Darcy back to the guesthouse and arrived at Skull Island just before two. Cumulus clouds had begun to roll in over the sea, obliterating the blue, and the wind was picking up speed. Robin wrapped her teal cardigan around her as they queued to pay their entrance fee and pick up their clubs.

  ‘Bobbin, you came!’ Maggie gave them a warm smile. ‘And wow, Molly, you’ve changed since the last time I saw you.’

  Robin laughed at Will’s bemused expression. ‘This is Will. He’s Tabitha’s nephew. He’s staying here for a while, to sort through the house.’

  ‘For my sins,’ Will said, holding out his hand.

  Maggie shook it. ‘Ah. Will. Lovely to meet you.’ She gave Robin a knowing smile and Robin’s insides shrivelled a little bit. Had Molly roped Maggie into her charm offensive too?

  She had to tell him this afternoon. She was sure it would be OK if she could just explain it all calmly: Tim’s development plans, how the acts of kindness had started, and how she had always wanted to help him, to make him feel welcome, regardless of the fate of the house.

  Maggie peered out of her cubicle at Will’s wrist. ‘Are you going to be all right? I don’t want to be sued because you’ve damaged yourself further by choosing to play on my course.’

  ‘I’m fine, honestly.’ Will unwrapped Robin’s bandage and, shooting her an apologetic look, shoved it in his pocket. Robin noticed that his wrist was purple, with a smudge of mottled brown bruising running up his thumb.

  ‘You brave warrior,’ Maggie said in a syrupy voice, and then gave them both a wicked grin and handed them their clubs and balls.

  ‘What hole is the water feature on?’ Robin whispered when Will had turned away.

  Maggie leaned in towards her, handing her scorecards and a tiny wooden pencil. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

  ‘So much for loyalty to your friend,’ Robin shot back.

  Maggie spread her arms wide. ‘I’m all about the fun, Bobbin. You should know that by now.’

  They’d reached the halfway hole and Will was three points ahead, despite his injured wrist and the fact that Robin had played this course on countless occasions, albeit a long time ago. She was frustrated by his standard male prowess and his ability not to jump at the various shouts and cackles echoing out of the statues dotted throughout the course. Although, she had to concede, it made him even more attractive.

  She considered, as she tried to get a birdie on the ninth hole, that she wouldn’t have found him any less attractive if he’d been hopeless at golf, but she might have felt a wavering of doubt if he’d screamed like a girl. But as it was, she realised as she putted the ball and lifted her arms into the air in triumph, she was very close to being completely spellbound by Will Nightingale. She was teetering on the edge.

  ‘Two behind,’ she reminded him as they moved on to the next hole. ‘I’m creeping up behind you, and soon’ – she pushed her arm out in front of her – ‘whoosh. I’ll go flying past.’

  Will nodded. She noticed that he was looking at her with a new intensity, as if he was seeing her for the first time. ‘Uh huh. I’ve been bracing myself for this moment since you finished four behind me on the first hole. Let’s see if we can crown a winner before the heavens open.’ He pointed up, and Robin saw that the white clouds had made way for grey, and that rain was threatening.

  ‘So much for a balmy Sunday,’ she muttered. ‘Right then, your go. Let’s see what you’ve got, Nightingale.’

  The thirteenth hole involved putting the ball up a pyramid structure, so that it went over the top and shot down the other side, hopefully straight into the final hole at the far end of the green.

  ‘You know the owner well?’ Will asked as Robin updated the scorecard. They were neck and neck. ‘Bobbin’s a cute nickname.’

  ‘That’s because it’s from when I was six. I’m not sure it’s relevant now.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Will said, swinging his club back and forth absentmindedly. ‘Bobbin Brennan has a nice ring to it. I could call you Bob.’

  ‘Not if you want breakfast tomorrow, you couldn’t.’

  Will grinned. ‘Does anyone call you Rob?’

  She shook her head. ‘Tim calls me Robs. Not sure how I feel about that, to be honest. It used to be endearing, but …’ She shrugged.

  ‘You’ve moved on?’

  Robin met his gaze. ‘I’ve moved on. Not Bobbin, not Robs.’

  ‘Just Robin,’ he said softly.

  She nodded, tugging her hair out of her face as a particularly strong gust took hold of it.

  Will put his ball on the marker, and stepped on the red cross that signalled the hole’s starting point. A jet of water whooshed out of an innocuous-looking pirate model standing at the side of the hole and hit him in the chest. He took a step back, swearing, and dropped his club. Robin was frozen for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

  He looked at her, the water dripping off him as if he’d just emerged from the sea. He wiped his face with a hand, blinking his surprise.

  Robin tried, and failed, to stop laughing, doubling over at the waist.

  ‘Did you know about this?’ he managed. He was breathing quickly, and Robin thought pityingly that the water must be freezing.

  She shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. I mean, I – I—’

  ‘You knew it was coming?’

  ‘I didn’t! I didn’t know where it was, I swear.’

  ‘Robin Brennan,’ he said, ‘I can’t believe you would lure me here …’

  ‘I didn’t!’

  She squealed as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, against his sodden T-shirt, the water dripping off his face and landing on hers. There were droplets on his eyelashes. He blinked them off and more ran on to them from his hair, making them glisten.

  He put his arm around her waist, gently bringing her closer. She could feel the cold dampness seep from his T-shirt into her cardigan, but it couldn’t compete with the warmth rushing through her body as he wiped a drop of water from her cheek. She held her breath, unable to unlock her eyes from his, and felt everything slow down as he brought his face to hers and kissed her, softly at first, then with more passion, his hand pressed between her shoulder blades.

  She dropped her club and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving herself over to the kiss, letting herself fall over the edge, discarding her last bit of reserve. A rumble above tried to break into her consciousness but she barely noticed it; she could only focus on his arms around her, as strong and safe as she’d imagined, and the way the sugar-sweetness of his kiss sent shockwaves of desire through her.

  Then the rain came. Fat thunderstorm drops that landed like pebbles on her head and arms. They ignored it at first, and it was only when people began shrieking and running from the course that Will finally released his hold on her and looked up, squinting against the assault.

  Wordlessly they picked up their clubs and balls and raced back to Maggie’s shed, arriving breathless and laughing. They handed them in and turned to go, but Maggie caught hold of Robin’s hand, her dark eyes in shadow. Robin saw her mouth the words ‘be carefu
l’ before she let go, and Will was pulling her along the promenade and across Goldcrest Road, the rain heavier than ever, the thunder rumbling in off the sea.

  They fell into the hall of the Campion Bay Guesthouse, dripping puddles on to the floorboards.

  ‘At least we’re on an even footing now,’ she said, pulling off her sodden ballet pumps, emptying her soaked handbag on to the shelf by the door and checking her phone had survived.

  ‘That doesn’t excuse the fact that you tricked me,’ Will said, kicking off his trainers. ‘I had no idea about that bloody water hydrant.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ Robin said, laughing. ‘I knew there was one, but Maggie wouldn’t tell me where.’

  ‘I’m supposed to believe that?’

  Eclipse padded into the hallway, sniffed at the nearest puddle of water then edged round it warily.

  ‘Shit,’ Robin said, looking at the floor, ‘slip hazard. Hang on.’ She unlocked her bedroom door and grabbed two towels from her tiny bathroom, passing one to Will, using the other one to mop the floor. She stood and Will held his towel out to her. She took it, passing it over the ends of her hair, anticipation fizzing through her.

  ‘What happens now?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Uhm, let me …’ She picked the sodden towel off the floor and took them through to her en suite, lifting discarded clothes off her bed as she passed, shoving them in a drawer and dumping the towels in her bathtub. She stepped back into her bedroom, surveying it quickly for dirty underwear or stray doodles mentioning Will.

  Her phoned pinged from the shelf by the door.

  ‘Robin, your phone,’ Will called.

  ‘Can you check it, see if one of the guests needs anything?’ She plumped up her pillows, her hands shaking slightly.

  ‘It’s a text from Molly.’

  ‘What does it say?’ she asked, and then Maggie’s face, her mouthed words of warning flashed in Robin’s mind. She froze. ‘Actually …’ she said, but Will had started reading.

  ‘A little birdie just told me what happened at Skull Island,’ he read. Robin gripped on to the duvet, then raced around the bed. As she did, Will pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes still on the phone, his voice taking on a tone of incredulity as he read Molly’s message aloud. ‘Robin Brennan, one-woman publicity campaign. If you’ve made Will fall for you then he’s not going to sell, is he? Goldcrest Road thanks you for keeping number four out of Tim’s evil clutches.’