A rapid knock on the door made him look up, to find Juliet hanging on the doorframe. She looked better than she had done when she arrived, Leo decided, if not quite back to her normal sparkling self. Hopefully, whatever disaster had befallen her in London would pass without them even having to talk it out.
‘Are you coming?’ she asked, a little breathlessly.
‘Where?’ Leo frowned. ‘If this has to do with that damn llama again—’
‘Miranda and Owain are taking her back right now, much to Mia’s disappointment. I think she was hoping we could take Lucy down to the beach with us for the kite festival.’
The Seashell Island Kite Festival. ‘That’s today?’ How many festivals did one tiny island need? Still, if the girls were watching the kites, he might manage to answer some emails on his phone without losing it in the sea . . .
‘Starting now,’ Juliet confirmed. ‘Miranda’s meeting us down there, everyone here’s been fed and the girls have helped me make up the rooms – which was your job on the rota, incidentally – so we’re all ready to go. Come on!’
One surprising thing, Leo thought as he changed into shorts and grabbed a couple of beach towels from the stack in the airing cupboard, was how well Juliet had taken to running the B&B. Given how much she’d always despised it growing up – complaining about having to make the beds, about having strangers in their house, about how it meant they could never go away – she seemed perfectly happy to be trapped there with a whole band’s worth of strangers plus a lot of beds to make this summer. He brushed away the possibility that maybe that meant whatever was going on in London was worse than he thought, and headed down to find the girls.
The beach was packed with people and kites. At one end, a large section had been roped off for displays, with a team currently showcasing several of a special sort of swallow kite that dived and rose and danced in synchronicity with each other, all in time to the music blasting out from the speakers on the harbour. Further down the sand were food vans, stands selling kites, charity stalls and a few small rides for the kids. Families and groups had laid out picnic blankets to sit and watch the kites while having some lunch. At the other end of the beach were the amateur kite flyers – a whole sea of strings stretching up towards the blue sky, blotted with kites in the shape of birds, fish, dragons, ghosts, or just the traditional diamonds and triangles.
‘Can we buy a kite?’ Mia asked, as they made their way past the stalls to find a place for the picnic blanket Juliet was carrying.
‘Of course!’ Juliet said, before Leo could say no. ‘It’s not a kite festival if you don’t fly a kite.’
So apparently he was buying a kite today. Who knew?
Juliet lay out the blanket in the fifth space they found, although Leo had no idea what had been wrong with the other four. As they all settled down to watch the kite display, Leo took in the crowds around them. He recognised hardly anybody – probably because the locals were all working, and the people attending the kite festival were tourists. Like them, he supposed.
Maybe that was why Juliet had always liked the kite festival. Only people who didn’t plan to live on the island attended.
‘This is incredible,’ Mia said, leaning back on her hands as she took in the festival.
‘It’s fun,’ Leo agreed, fishing his phone from his pocket to check his emails.
Suddenly a new voice added, ‘It is. But nothing compared to the Lighthouse Festival your grandparents throw every year.’ Beside him, Juliet froze. Leo looked up to find Rory Hillier smiling down at them, holding a plastic tray full of burgers and hot dogs. ‘Thought you guys looked hungry,’ he said, placing the tray on their picnic blanket.
‘Thanks,’ Leo said, since Juliet clearly wasn’t going to. ‘What do we owe you?’
‘On the house,’ Rory replied. ‘Since the Lighthouse B&B is my best customer right now. Guess that band of yours love a full English, right?’
‘Thanks.’ Leo nudged the girls and they both echoed the sentiment. Juliet still said nothing.
‘My pleasure,’ Rory said, pointedly not looking at Juliet. Then he headed back to a food stall named ‘The Flying Fish’.
Juliet, Leo noticed, watched him go. And suddenly things started to make sense.
‘What’s the Lighthouse Festival?’ Abby asked, around a mouthful of hot dog.
‘Grandma and Grandad throw this big party for everyone on the island at the end of summer,’ Mia told her younger sister knowledgably. Then she shot a glare at Leo. ‘We’re never allowed to stay for it.’
‘That’s because your mum always said it was too close to the end of the summer holidays, or sometimes even after you’d started back at school,’ Leo explained, throwing Emily to the wolves for a change. Finally, something that wasn’t his fault. ‘It’s not until the first weekend in September.’
‘Mum’s not here this year,’ Mia said, her gaze suddenly calculating.
‘And the first of September is a Saturday,’ Juliet added, unhelpfully.
‘Grandma and Grandad aren’t even on the island this summer,’ Leo stalled. ‘And I’d planned to be back in London before September.’ His words did nothing to stop the beseeching looks his daughters were giving him. Juliet, a smile hovering around her lips, copied the look.
Leo knew when he was defeated. ‘Fine. If the festival happens this summer, we can stay for it.’ Miranda had been muttering something about having to cancel it, he was almost sure, so the odds were good he wouldn’t even have to make good on his promise. It was a win–win. Especially given the way the girls squealed with excitement.
Finally he’d done something they liked.
‘Can we go watch the kites?’ Mia asked, shoving the last of her hot dog into her mouth.
Leo glanced over at the barrier to the display ground. Not too far away, easy to see . . . what would Emily say?
‘Just make sure you stay where we can see you,’ he decided. Mia grabbed her little sister’s hand and pulled her up, still holding her hot dog.
‘Come on, Abby!’
Leo craned to watch them weave through the picnic blankets, before stopping right by the display ground, in full sight. Good.
And then it was just him and his sister.
Juliet reached for a burger from the tray, not catching his eye. And Leo was almost certain that he knew why. Maybe Miranda was right. Maybe it was time to talk to his baby sister about what was going on with her this summer. Even if it was only to do a little light teasing.
‘So. Rory.’ Leo raised an eyebrow. ‘Bringing us free food. And he’s been up to the Lighthouse every other day for the last couple of weeks, making deliveries . . . He wouldn’t happen to be the reason you’re back on Seashell Island, would he?’
Juliet’s eyes widened. ‘What? No! He delivers the food because that’s his job, Leo.’
‘Are you sure? I mean, he must have staff who could do that for him,’ Leo pointed out. ‘And besides, I can’t think of any other reason you’d want to come back here, to be honest.’ Not that he’d given it a huge amount of thought, in between everything else.
‘Unless I was so desperate for a boyfriend I decided to trawl the graveyard of terrible teenage relationships that is Seashell Island?’ she shot back.
Leo winced, as he saw that Rory had come up behind her. ‘Just . . . came for the tray. I’ll come back.’
‘Shit.’ Juliet spun round looking for him – rather proving Leo’s point, he thought – but he was already halfway through the crowd, heading back to the Flying Fish stall.
‘You’re not strengthening your argument,’ Leo pointed out.
‘You think I don’t know that?’ Juliet muttered.
‘Lucy the Llama is back on the farm. Again.’ Miranda dropped to sit on the edge of the picnic blanket, and motioned to Owain, who was standing beside her, to do the same.
‘I real
ly should get back to the guys. We’re supposed to be working on a new song Suzi’s written . . .’ Owain said, but Leo could tell he was wavering. What hold his sister had over this guy he had no idea, but he had to admit that Christabel might have been on to something, introducing the two of them.
‘We have burgers.’ Juliet pointed to the tray, where a couple of cooling burgers remained. ‘Courtesy of the Flying Fish.’
‘And Rory,’ Leo added with a meaningful look in Miranda’s direction.
Miranda’s eyebrows raised, and she turned to look at Juliet. ‘Really.’
Owain, bandmates apparently forgotten, sat and took a burger. ‘Who’s Rory?’
‘Juliet’s first love,’ Miranda explained, still staring at her. ‘Whose heart she completely and utterly trampled on when she left, to the point where he didn’t date for three years.’
Juliet winced, which Leo thought was the least she could do. God, the guy had been a mess.
‘He’s the guy over at the Flying Fish stall who is blatantly staring at Juliet right now,’ he added cheerfully. ‘The one with the big, sad eyes.’
‘Do you have any siblings, Owain?’ Juliet asked.
‘Thankfully, no.’ He gave her a sympathetic look. Juliet looked like she’d decided she liked Owain better than any of her relatives, right now. Leo thought that it was about time they got some payback for all the times they’d bailed her out of trouble in the past.
‘All we’re saying is, be careful with Rory,’ Miranda said, in her best big sister voice. ‘You really hurt him last time.’
‘I know,’ Juliet whispered, not looking at any of them.
‘Auntie Miri! Did Dad tell you? He’s going to let us stay for the Lighthouse Festival this year!’ Mia and Abby threw themselves back down onto the picnic blanket with more glee than Leo thought he’d felt all year. How did they still have so much energy? How were they not as exhausted as him? Although, now he looked at them, Mia was looking a little pale.
Miranda shot Leo a panicked look and he shrugged apologetically. ‘Did he? Right.’
‘It is happening, isn’t it?’ Abby asked, her voice plaintive. ‘Even if Grandma and Grandad don’t come back in time?’
Sitting behind the girls, Leo shook his head, safe in the knowledge they couldn’t see him. Miranda looked between them for guidance, but Juliet just shrugged.
Owain, meanwhile, smiled and said, ‘Sounds to me like the festival’s a big deal here – for your family, and for the island. Be a shame not to uphold the tradition.’
‘It would,’ Miranda said, thoughtfully. ‘It would take some planning at this late notice, though. Mum still hasn’t responded to my messages, but it doesn’t seem like anything’s been put in place for it.’
‘We’ll help!’ Mia yelped, volunteering her sister alongside her. Abby nodded her agreement. Well, he supposed that would at least keep them busy . . .
‘In that case, how can we fail?’ Miranda asked.
So apparently they were throwing a festival.
Miranda would make it happen, Leo had no doubt at all. His big sister always achieved whatever she set her mind to – with the possible exception of marriage to Paul, although Leo hadn’t ruled that one out completely yet, either. And now she wasn’t working for Paul’s dad any more, she probably had some time on her hands.
But it seemed to him she was kind of ignoring the inevitable. Their parents were selling the Lighthouse. Miranda could pull one more festival out of the bag, but by this time next year the Lighthouse would be gone, so what did it matter?
Not that anyone else seemed bothered by a little thing called reality.
‘Brilliant!’ Abby bounced up and down a little, as the air was punctuated by the familiar tune of the ice-cream van, sited up by the kite stalls. ‘Dad! Can we have ice cream?’
Leo handed over a five-pound note without even trying to argue, and Abby dragged Mia with her to the ice-cream van.
‘So, we’re definitely doing the festival?’ Juliet asked, as the girls left.
‘I think we have to,’ Miranda replied. ‘The island needs it – the revenue, as much as the mood boost. Owain’s right – it’s too big a deal on Seashell Island to just drop it like that.’
‘Don’t you think we should wait to hear from Mum and Dad?’ Leo craned his neck to watch the girls as they queued – and a familiar figure with purple streaks in her hair joined them. Christabel. He smiled, despite himself. Maybe this day was about to improve.
‘Mum and Dad are too busy arguing about what to name a hypothetical parrot.’ Miranda rolled her eyes. ‘They’re not here, and they’re not even thinking about here. If we want this to happen, we have to do it ourselves.’
‘Well, good luck with that.’ Leo knelt up on the rug, ready to go join the girls as they returned with Christabel and their ice creams.
‘Wait. You’re not going to help us?’ Juliet’s eyes were huge and disappointed.
‘You don’t need me. You two between you could shift this island to a different ocean if you put your minds to it. And I’ve got other stuff to do.’
‘More important stuff?’ Miranda asked. ‘Or just work?’
‘Both.’ Over by the ice-cream van, Christabel had one arm around Mia’s shoulder. Leo frowned. Was she OK?
‘So you’re just going to leave it all to us.’ Juliet said. ‘This is like the chores rota all over again.’
‘No, this is me listening to Christabel and focusing on what really matters to me this summer.’ And not getting swept up in a nostalgia last-stand project. Getting to his feet, Leo shaded his eyes from the sun and watched his daughters slowly approaching.
‘I don’t think this is what she meant,’ Miranda was saying, but Leo wasn’t listening. Instead, he strode out across the sand towards Abby and Mia and Christabel.
‘Hey. Is everything OK?’ he asked, as soon as he got close.
‘Mia’s not feeling so well,’ Christabel said.
Leo crouched down in front of Mia. ‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’
Mia gave him a miserable smile, then threw up all over his shirt and his lap.
‘Too much sugar,’ Abby said, wisely, as Leo resisted the urge to swear out loud.
JULIET
Some mornings, pregnancy was just the worst. Well, some afternoons and evenings, too. But on Sunday morning, the day after the kite festival, Juliet woke feeling worse than ever – nauseous, exhausted, and done with everything.
Or perhaps some of that was just because of her realisations the day before.
She needed to talk to Rory. Apologise for what he overheard, if nothing else.
God, she hated apologising.
By the time she dragged herself out of bed and downstairs, the place was deserted – apart from Lucy, staring in at her through the kitchen window. The dishwasher was running with breakfast things, so Juliet knew everyone must have eaten. Miranda had been on the rota to make breakfast today – and people must have been hungry, she realised, as she checked the fridge and found the last of the eggs and bacon gone.
More reasons to head down to the Flying Fish. Supply run.
There was a note on the kitchen chalkboard telling her that Miranda had taken the girls for Sunday sundaes at the ice-cream parlour in town – which seemed a risky choice, given Mia’s sugar sickness yesterday, but who was she to judge? It was signed with a ‘Mx’, so she hoped that meant her big sister wasn’t too angry with her for abandoning her duties.
She probably just thought it was par for the course. Maybe she was right.
Blinking away the ridiculous tears that formed at the corners of her eyes, Juliet tried to pull herself together. What had come over her this morning? Discounting the pregnancy hormones, which she was learning were a law unto themselves.
She needed a plan. Baby steps, so to speak. She wasn’t a planner by
nature, unfortunately, but Miranda always swore by them. And working her way through a list was the only way to keep her brain on topic at the moment.
Grabbing the magnetic pad from the fridge door, she started writing.
1) Talk to Rory.
She needed to convince him that she wasn’t the soul-sucking, heart-breaking Juliet he seemed to remember, whatever he’d overheard yesterday. She’d been treading on eggshells around him ever since she arrived, unsure whether it was better to try and be friendly or stick to an arm’s length acquaintance, or even just a business relationship. But clearly that wasn’t working, so she needed a new approach.
Maybe she needed to show him that she remembered their time together fondly, hoped they could be friends again, but wasn’t about to try and trap him into a new relationship because . . . well, maybe she could leave off the because, for now. She needed him friendly, and without the rest of the town talking about them. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?
2) Buy breakfast food.
That one, at least, she felt confident she could manage. Maybe not without throwing up, given how the nausea seemed to have taken over her entire body, but she’d get it done.
3) Talk to Miranda and Leo.
This was where the trouble started. She needed to tell them about the baby. About why she’d come home. Mum and Dad clearly weren’t coming back soon, if their messages to the family group about all the fun they were having were anything to go by. She couldn’t wait for them to come and fix things for her. She needed to do it herself.
Starting with what was happening inside her body.
Three things seemed plenty to be going on with for now, especially given number three, so Juliet tore the list off the pad, grabbed a couple of shopping bags, and set out the front door towards the high street, hoping the fresh sea air would help her fend off the overwhelming attacks of nausea.
It didn’t, much, but at least being outside was distracting – taking her mind off the sickness and her problems.
Summer on Seashell Island: Escape to an island this summer for the perfect heartwarming romance in 2020 (Riley Wolfe 1) Page 16