Summer on Seashell Island: Escape to an island this summer for the perfect heartwarming romance in 2020 (Riley Wolfe 1)

by Sophie Pembroke

  But at least they’d had each other. That was the part that no one back home was going to understand – how she’d got herself into this mess without having anyone to stand by her side while she dealt with it.

  Actually, maybe her father would be happier with some sort of immaculate conception story. For all his liberal-mindedness, Iestyn Waters had always preferred to believe his daughters were total innocents. Maybe he still did, although since Miranda had been living with Paul for years it might be stretching credulity a little by now.

  Of course, if anyone could manage it, it would be perfect-child Miranda. Miranda would never get pregnant by accident while sleeping with her boss. Not least because her boss was her almost-father-in-law and that was just too nauseatingly disgusting to even think about.

  While her mind had wandered, Seashell Island had come into focus, closer and closer, until the ferry bobbed to a halt at the small stone harbour. From the boat she could see the island stretching out in both directions, away from the point of the harbour. To the left, Long Beach – nothing but sand all the way to the cliffs and rock pools where the island turned and curved back to meet the other side. Above the beach, the town of St Mary’s – the candy-coloured houses, the church clock tower, the cobbled streets. Even if she couldn’t see them from here, she only had to close her eyes, and she was there again.

  And on the right, the North Beach, shorter and rockier, with cliffs jutting up from the waves. Beyond them lay Gull Bay, out of sight for now, but just around the bend. And above the cliffs . . . Juliet looked up and saw the white of the Lighthouse in the distance.

  Home. She was home.

  This was what she wanted, right? She’d wanted to be somewhere safe and supportive.

  So why did she still feel like she wanted to turn and run? Maybe if she just stayed on board then the ferry would take her straight back to the mainland . . .

  Except she’d caught the last boat of the night. And now, as the summer sky began to darken to deep oranges and violet pinks overhead, Juliet knew she had nowhere else to go except the Lighthouse.

  The walk up the cliff path to the family home was steep, familiar, and full of dread. With each step, Juliet’s overactive mind came up with more ways this could all go horribly wrong. But when she tugged her suitcase over the last step and stood at the front door, she still felt the wave of home that told her she’d made the right decision coming here.

  The Lighthouse didn’t look as bright and pristine as in her memories. The white paint was dirty grey these days, and the duck-egg-blue paint of the door was peeling. But it was still home. The place where, when you had nowhere else to go, they had to take you in – right?

  Miranda hadn’t answered her text about her key, so Juliet hoped she was there – she was supposed to be running the B&B while their parents were away, so it seemed likely. But before she could knock the door swung open to reveal six-year-old Abby, clutching an enormous teddy bear in a wedding dress. The bear also had a white towel attached to its head, held on by hairclips in the shape of bees clamped to its ears.

  ‘Auntie Juliet!’ Abby grabbed her hand. ‘Come on. We’re playing weddings. You can be the bridesmaid!’

  Bewildered, Juliet followed. ‘Isn’t it a little late to be playing weddings?’ She only had the vaguest idea about child-rearing – something she supposed she was going to have to address sooner rather than later – but she was pretty sure that approaching ten o’clock at night was past bedtime for six-year-olds.

  ‘Daddy says bedtimes don’t exist on holidays!’ Abby replied gleefully, leading her down the back hallway towards the sunroom that served as a playroom for any kids staying at the B&B.

  ‘I’m sure that will end well,’ Juliet muttered. ‘When did you guys get here, anyway?’ Leo hadn’t mentioned visiting the island that summer, but now she thought about it, it made perfect sense. Of course he’d want Mum and Dad to help look after the girls while Emily was away.

  ‘Today!’ Abby sang. ‘Auntie Miranda is here too.’

  ‘Oh good,’ Juliet said, her voice flat. Luckily, Abby didn’t seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm.

  ‘Not Grandma and Grandad, though,’ Abby went on. ‘Their plane crashed, but we can talk to them tomorrow!’

  Juliet froze. ‘What?’ she whispered, just as Miranda appeared in the doorway to the sunroom.

  ‘OK, the groom is starting to think the bride is never going to show up and— Juliet? What are you doing here? Did Mum call you?’

  ‘Mum and Dad’s plane crashed?’

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘Abby said—’

  Miranda sighed, and shot an exasperated look at their niece. ‘Abby, go get Big Bear married before your maid of honour falls asleep in there. And after the ceremony it’s time for bed, I don’t care what your dad says. OK?’

  With a resigned nod, Abby walked into the sunroom, humming the wedding march loudly, and slightly off key.

  ‘What on earth has been happening here?’ Juliet asked. ‘Are Mum and Dad all right?’

  She’d only thought about how she might disappoint them. It hadn’t occurred to her that they might not be here to be disappointed.

  ‘They are having the absolute time of their lives,’ Miranda said, flatly. ‘Come on. Let me put these two to bed then we’ll go grab Leo and have a drink and I’ll fill you in.’

  A drink. Yeah, that was something she couldn’t do any more. There were probably other things she couldn’t consume, right? Like . . . maybe cheese? She needed to find out. But first, she needed to figure out what the hell was going on around here.

  Rehearsing her excuses about a dry July in her head, Juliet dragged her suitcase up the stairs to her childhood bedroom. One step at a time. That was the only way she was going to get through any of this.

  MESSAGES

  Josie (to the Waters Wanderers group): Having a brilliant time living life out on the ocean wave! Hope you’re all having fun together on the island, too. Here’s a photo of Dad pretending to be a pirate. I think we might buy a parrot . . .

  MIRANDA

  Miranda shut the girls’ bedroom door softly, then opened it again a crack when she remembered how much Abby hated the dark. She’d have to remind Juliet and Leo to leave the landing light on tonight.

  Juliet. And Leo.

  Both her siblings home under one roof, neither of whom she was expecting or, quite honestly, had the patience to deal with right now. All she wanted was some peace and time to process everything that had happened with Paul. And instead she got a family reunion – without the two people she imagined they’d all come to see.

  Miranda was under no illusion that either Juliet or Leo would have come to Seashell Island just to see her.

  Some siblings she knew were closer than friends, and most of the family groups on the island at least liked each other. Miranda didn’t expect to have the former relationship with her brother and sister any time soon, but it would be nice if they could at least manage the latter.

  She loved them, of course she did. And she hoped they loved her too. They were family.

  They were just all so very different.

  Maybe it was the age difference. She was only three years older than Leo, but seven older than Juliet, and sometimes it felt like so much more. They’d never been in the same place in their lives at the same time – perhaps until now. Did age gaps fall away when you reached adulthood? If they had, it didn’t seem to make much difference to their ability to relate.

  Maybe it was their personalities. She craved order from chaos. Needed to know what each day was going to bring. Juliet would choose chaos and spontaneity over organisation every day of the year. And Leo . . . he was too focused on his job to notice whether he was surrounded by chaos or order.

  That had surprised her when, one Christmas four years ago, she’d sat with a tipsy Emily while Leo took a busin
ess call late on Christmas Eve when they were supposed to be hanging the stockings. She hadn’t realised how single-minded he’d become. But perhaps it was just a natural extension of who he’d been as a child. Back then, his focus had been on different things – making the football team, dating a particular girl. Then passing his exams, getting to the university he wanted – clear on the other side of Britain from Seashell Island.

  ‘At university I thought his focus was a sign of dedication. I thought he’d have the same dedication to me, too. And he did, to start with . . .’ Emily had trailed off, and suddenly Miranda could see exactly what had happened.

  When he’d got on the football team, he’d wanted to be captain. When he’d been captain he’d wanted to win the league. When his team had won the league . . . he lost interest and moved on to tennis.

  Same with everything else in his life. While their parents had drifted from one interest and one place to another for the first nine years of Miranda’s life, that shifting unsettledness had shown up differently in Leo. But it was still there.

  It was more obvious in Juliet, of course. She’d never settled on one thing, or one place, ever. The closest she’d come was when she was dating Rory, but even that hadn’t lasted.

  While Miranda had stuck with the same man for almost two decades, long past the point when it was obvious to everyone – except, evidently, herself – that he was never actually going to marry her, just because he was familiar and safe.

  She had nothing in common with her siblings. It was that simple – and that depressing.

  What were they doing here anyway? Leo she could understand – clearly he’d realised too late that he couldn’t do a full-time job and look after his kids at the same time, so had come to beg Mum and Dad to help him out. Well, he was going to have to figure that one out for himself, because she’d done her auntie duties already tonight, and she had work on Monday same as him.

  Juliet was a bigger puzzle. Normally she had to be dragged kicking and screaming back to the island for family occasions, usually by Leo. Their brother had always looked forward to the day he could leave the island and pursue his own bigger dreams and ambitions, but for Juliet it had been an obsession. It wasn’t about what she wanted to do off the island – it was about being anywhere but here.

  Another difference. Miranda’s sanctuary was Juliet’s hell.

  Maybe Leo would be able to get to the bottom of what had brought Juliet back – the two of them had always been closest out of them all. Miranda suspected that only some sort of personal crisis or disaster would have driven her sister back to the island – both of which she’d managed to have with alarming regularity while still on the island, as a teenager. And every time it had been Miranda who’d had to be the practical one. To find a way to fix whatever had gone wrong – speak to Juliet’s friends’ mothers, talk to the policeman who brought her home, clean up the mess and pay the bills. She’d had to be the responsible one – the parent, almost – while their mum persuaded Juliet to meditate with her, and Dad made notes for his next book.

  For them, as for Juliet, life was one big adventure, meant to be lived to the full with no regrets.

  For Miranda, it was a series of obligations, all of which had to be fulfilled to keep things calm and steady.

  Juliet didn’t believe in calm and steady. And Miranda wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with another one of her crises right now.

  It could be Leo’s turn. That was only fair.

  She had enough to deal with.

  Turning down the last bend in the landing, Miranda rapped on the door to their father’s study, then opened it without waiting to be invited in. After all, it wasn’t like it was Leo’s workspace anyway. He was just borrowing it – or hiding out in it.

  ‘Your daughters are asleep, and your sister has just arrived.’

  Leo looked up, blinking in the greenish light from the accountant’s lamp Iestyn had kept on the desk for decades. ‘Thanks, Miri, that’s great. I really needed to finish this proposal so I can spend tomorrow with the girls.’ He frowned. ‘Wait, Juliet’s here? Why?’

  ‘I have no idea. I’m making it your mission to find out.’

  He looked resigned to that, which was good. Then he turned his laptop towards her. ‘Speaking of finding out what’s going on . . . remember I set up that cloud drive for Dad, last summer?’

  ‘Yeah. What about it?’

  ‘I logged on to it this evening. Wanted to check if there was anything about bookings in there, or on the online system.’

  ‘And was there?’

  ‘No. But I did find this.’ He clicked an icon and a document opened. Miranda squinted at it, trying to figure out what she was looking at.

  There was a picture of the front of the Lighthouse, a blurb about the building . . . and a price.

  ‘They’re putting the Lighthouse up for sale?’ Miranda squeaked. ‘No, they can’t be. They’d have talked to me first, to all of us. Wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Maybe not, if they thought they had no choice,’ Leo said. ‘I’ve been thinking about this. There are no summer bookings, and I can’t find the accounts from this year at all, anywhere. What if they’re in real trouble? What if they have to sell?’

  ‘They’ve just extended their trip of a lifetime, Leo,’ she pointed out, as all the variables turned over and over in her brain. ‘They can’t exactly be broke if they’re doing that.’

  ‘Can’t they?’ Leo leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, and met her gaze. ‘They have credit cards, Miranda, and you know as well as I do that Mum and Dad have always been a bit . . . woolly with money.’

  That was true, she had to admit. They’d never gone short, exactly, but their parents’ attitude had always been that money was for spending, not saving. The Lighthouse had done well in the past, but Miranda had no idea if that had declined with the fortunes of the rest of the island over more recent years – it seemed likely it had. And as for their parents putting aside money for the bad times during the good times? Well, she wouldn’t want to bet the house on it.

  Or the Lighthouse.

  ‘We need to message them. Ask them what’s going on.’

  ‘I already did,’ Leo replied. ‘All I got back was that damn picture of Dad in a hat and an eyepatch.’

  ‘Time difference?’ Miranda tried, weakly.

  ‘Avoidance,’ Leo countered. ‘I reckon they’re having one last hurrah before they sell this place and retire on the proceeds. If they can get enough for it.’

  Oh God, this was a disaster. Miranda sank onto the cushioned window seat to process what her brother was saying. The Lighthouse was a great property but, the way things were going on the island, she couldn’t believe that it would earn them enough to live off for the next twenty, thirty years – or longer. Unless there was something else they weren’t telling them . . .

  ‘Do you think one of them is sick? Like, really sick?’ she asked.

  A shadow crossed Leo’s face, but he shook it away quickly. ‘Don’t think that. We don’t know anything until they tell us.’

  ‘I know, but—’

  ‘I mean it, Miranda. You’re going to do what you always do and start catastrophising. Telling us all the ways things can go wrong until we’re all worried stupid. We don’t know anything, so we have to wait until Mum and Dad are ready to tell us what’s going on.’

  ‘I don’t do that,’ Miranda said, but there was no force behind her words. Because she did, she knew she did. She just couldn’t help it. No one else in the family ever seemed to see the canyons they could fall into, so she had to. That was her role.

  ‘Mum gave you no hints what was going on when she called?’ Leo asked.

  Miranda shook her head. ‘She was barely on the phone more than a few minutes. I figured she’d call again when they landed wherever they were going next and we’d sort out the det
ails. I’d only just realised then that there weren’t any summer bookings, and I didn’t have time to ask her about it. I assumed it was a mistake. It just made no sense.’

  Not unless they’d known from the start that they wouldn’t be coming back when they’d planned.

  She’d assumed their decision to extend their trip had been a spur-of-the-moment thing – the opportunity arose and they took it. But what if it wasn’t? What would that mean for the Lighthouse? For their family?

  ‘They are still planning on coming home, aren’t they?’ For a brief, flash of a moment, Leo looked so like the twelve-year-old boy who’d still looked up to his big sister that Miranda’s heart ached.

  But he wasn’t that boy any longer. None of them were kids any more, and they had to deal with life on their own terms.

  Still, the Lighthouse was home. And it was meant to be filled with people. Because if it wasn’t, her parents had no income, and they were giving in to the general decline of Seashell Island – her island. Unlike her parents, that wasn’t something she could ignore while she hopped around the planet having fun.

  ‘I don’t know, Leo. But I guess we’re going to find out.’ She got to her feet. This day seemed to have been going on for years, and it wasn’t over yet. ‘Come on. Juliet will be waiting for us.’

  Just another thing to worry about.

  Brilliant.

  LEO

  Leo followed Miranda down the creaking stairs of the Lighthouse, having fallen a little behind while he checked in on his sleeping daughters. They both looked angelic, even Mia. Abby had fallen asleep with the new bride – Big Bear – tucked under her arm, most of her body resting over the enormous teddy. Leo vaguely remembered Juliet winning it by shooting bottles when the fair came to the island, late in the summer, many years ago. He was surprised it hadn’t been given away before now – but now that Abby had found an old white bridesmaid’s dress of Juliet’s that fitted the damn thing, he suspected they were stuck with it. She’d be marrying it off to various toys all summer long.