The Once in a Blue Moon Guesthouse
Part 3
Do Not Disturb
CRESSIDA MCLAUGHLIN
Copyright
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
The News Building
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
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 © March 2017
ISBN: 9780008219260
Version: 2017-03-03
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Keep Reading …
About the Author
Also by Cressida McLaughlin
About the Publisher
Chapter One
Robin Brennan opened the oven door and, waiting for a waft of steam to disperse, took a second batch of moon-shaped chocolate-chip cookies out and slid them on to the cooling rack. She stared at them, her hands on her hips. The cookies, once they were cold, would go in the heavily stoppered glass jars she had bought at a gift shop in the centre of Campion Bay, and would sit on the landing next to a sign that said Midnight cookies; please help yourself.
Running a successful guesthouse, her mum Sylvie had written in The Bible, the guesthouse manual she had given to Robin when she and Robin’s dad had moved to France the previous month, is all about attention to detail. That’s what guests will notice, that’s what will complete their stay and make them want to come back again and again.
Robin hoped the cookies would be popular with her guests, but wasn’t convinced they would complete anyone’s stay. She had thought that making them, mixing the dough and chunking chocolate up into irregular chips, using the cutter to create moon shapes, would take her mind off what had happened the day before. So far, however, it had failed.
She had been running the Campion Bay Guesthouse for two weeks. It was her third Monday, and she was confident that, for most of her guests, the experience of staying had been a good one. But there was one guest – and Robin wasn’t sure he was even a guest any more – with whom she’d managed to get it spectacularly wrong. She started tidying up the kitchen, putting the cooking implements in the dishwasher while her kitten, Eclipse, watched her from the doorway.
Will Nightingale had arrived in Campion Bay the day Robin had opened the doors of her newly refurbished guesthouse. He was the nephew of Tabitha Thomas, who had lived in the house next door, number four Goldcrest Road, until her death the year before. Will had made the journey from London to sort through his aunt’s possessions and decide what to do with the house, and had come to Robin for shelter after discovering that Tabitha’s house was uninhabitable; a home for mice and spiders rather than people.
Putting him up in her most precious room, Starcross, Robin had liked the tall, green-eyed man instantly, his easy manner and directness compelling her to offer to help him with the house clear-out. They had been getting to know each other; she had taken him on a tour of Campion Bay the previous day, and had found herself in his arms, kissing him, as the rain fell. The memory made Robin shiver; the feel of his lips on hers, his strong arms holding her, had felt powerful and magical and right, even though she hadn’t known him long.
But then everything had gone wrong.
Once she had cleaned the counters, Robin poured herself a glass of water and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. Eclipse jumped immediately on to her lap, his tail tickling her nose as he circled and circled on her thighs, trying to find the most comfortable position. Robin scrolled to the messages in her phone, rereading the text her friend Molly had sent her, the one that she’d stupidly asked Will to read aloud. It was like picking a scab, it was painful and the result was inevitable, but she couldn’t help it.
Number four Goldcrest Road was a focus of interest in Campion Bay. The seafront houses were desirable properties, spacious and elegant with beautiful views. Robin’s childhood sweetheart, Tim Lewis, now a successful property developer, had been sniffing around Tabitha’s house with a view to converting it into swish apartments. The other residents of the road – her friend Molly, Mrs Harris who owned the Seaview Hotel, Ashley and Roxy at the Campion Bay Teashop – were opposed to such a development, and once Will had arrived, Molly had come up with the idea of a charm offensive. She had been encouraging them all to be extra nice to him, to show him what a wonderful place Campion Bay was in the hope that he would decide to hold on to his aunt’s house, and keep Tim Lewis and his unpopular plans at bay.
Robin hadn’t felt entirely comfortable with Molly’s idea, but once the acts of kindness had begun and Will had been genuinely touched by them – the invitation to dinner at Taverna on the Bay, cupcakes from Ashley, mate’s rates at Molly’s beauty parlour, Groom with a View – she hadn’t had the heart to tell him. Then Molly’s text had laid bare the plan, and Will had assumed that the time Robin had spent with him, helping at Tabitha’s house, the tour of Campion Bay, had all been part of the scheme to stop Tim buying number four.
He hadn’t given her a chance to explain that everything she’d said and done was because she liked him. Ever since he’d turned up on her doorstep with his smile and his warmth and his gorgeous dog Darcy, she had been able to think of little else. She had wanted to spend time with him, for their relationship to grow – and it had. But then, after the text, she could see how it must appear, and now she didn’t know how to prove to him that her feelings were genuine.
She heard the front door open and laughter drift down the hallway. Lifting Eclipse into her arms, she went to greet her guests.
Dean and Katy were a young couple staying in her Wilderness room for a few days. They both worked in London, but Dean’s granddad lived in Weymouth, a little further down the Dorset coast.
‘Good morning?’ Robin asked.
Katy nodded. ‘We’ve been on the beach, and booked a boat tour for tomorrow. It’s going to take us along the coast, spotting wildlife and exploring the cliffs, with a fish-and-chip lunch included.’
‘A bit different from the Thames Clipper,’ Dean said, chuckling.
‘It sounds wonderful. And the weather’s supposed to pick up, according to the forecast.’
It had been raining on and off since the previous afternoon, and Robin felt that it suited her mood perfectly. But, if the sun was set to make an appearance, then maybe things would start looking up for her too.
‘I quite like th
e thought of a wild and windy trip, though,’ Katy said. ‘The boat’s got indoor seating if it gets too rough.’
‘I can lend you waterproofs, just in case?’
Dean shook his head. ‘We’re fine, thanks. We’re kitted out if it’s wet. But fingers crossed for sun.’
‘Can I get you anything now?’ Robin asked. ‘I could do some sandwiches.’
‘We’re going to visit Dean’s granddad once we’ve changed,’ Katy said, pointing at trousers that looked as if they’d seen too much sea spray. ‘Though the smell coming from your kitchen is mouthwatering.’
‘Ah,’ Robin said, smiling. ‘That’s something for later. Keep your eyes peeled when you get back.’
Katy’s eyes widened. ‘Ooh. OK, we will. Thank you.’
‘Oh – I almost forgot,’ Dean said, stopping on the bottom step. ‘We bumped into the guy next door as we were coming in. He asked me to give you this.’ He reached into his pocket, and Robin held her breath. He could only mean Will. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left yesterday afternoon, though she’d knocked on Tabitha’s front door and tried calling his number, listening to his voicemail message – Hi, you’ve reached Will’s phone, but unfortunately not Will … – more times than she could count.
Dean handed her an envelope. There was more in it than paper and, her heart sinking, she felt the familiar oval shape of the key ring attached to the room keys she gave guests.
‘Is everything OK?’ Katy asked. ‘He was staying here, wasn’t he?’
Robin nodded. ‘Only until his aunt’s house was in a better condition,’ she said, thinking as she said the words that it wasn’t, that there was no way he could be comfortable staying next door. ‘Thanks for this.’
‘No worries,’ Dean said.
‘He didn’t … say anything? Give you a message?’ She hoped she didn’t sound too desperate.
‘No, he just asked us to give this to you,’ Katy said apologetically. ‘There might be a note in the envelope.’
‘Of course there will be. That makes sense.’ She gave them what she hoped was a warm smile, and waited until they’d gone to their room, the envelope feeling unnaturally heavy in her hand.
Robin made herself a cup of tea and, Eclipse taking up one of his favourite places – lying across her shoulders – she walked through to Sea Shanty and settled on one of the sofas. The sea view was spectacular. Grey clouds bubbled on the horizon, dark streaks of rain far out over the water, while the May sun broke through closer to land, making the sea glitter. Robin spent a moment looking for a rainbow and then, when she couldn’t find one, turned her attention to the envelope.
Only two days before, she’d been sitting here with Will, another envelope in her hands, listening to him tell her how he’d discovered letters Tabitha had written to her brother, Will’s dad, trying to repair their relationship after he’d disowned her. Will had been shocked to discover that his dad had let Tabitha’s romance with his business rival come between them, the callousness of his behaviour revealed in the returned letters. Will had come to Robin with the revelation, letting her in on a personal, heartbreaking secret. Now, he wouldn’t even answer her calls.
She took a deep breath and opened the envelope, put the keys to one side and pulled out the single sheet of paper. The words were written neatly in biro.
Robin, take what I owe you from my account. I won’t be staying in Starcross any more.
It was followed by a Visa credit-card number, expiry date and his name as it appeared on the card: Mr W. D. Nightingale. She sighed, his anger evident in the formality of his words. He hadn’t included his card security number, so even if he wasn’t prepared to let her explain, she still needed to have what was bound to be an extremely awkward conversation with him. She put the note aside and picked up her tea, staring unseeingly out of the window.
She would have to go and clean Starcross, get it ready for new guests. The thought that Will was no longer staying there, sleeping beneath the pinprick lights, was so disheartening that Robin almost couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was a toss-up between wiping all signs of Will from her guesthouse and going to see the one person who, other than her, was partly responsible for the rift.
Molly had been out with her daughter Paige when Robin had tried to speak to her yesterday, but she had a gap in her bookings this afternoon. Robin hadn’t yet told her what had happened, so Molly didn’t know that Will had seen her text message. Now she would have to explain that, while this was the least of her concerns, Will was no longer seeing Campion Bay – or any of them – in a favourable light. He might well have decided that selling his aunt’s house to Tim Lewis was the only option he had left.
‘God, Robin, you look awful,’ Molly said when she opened her pink front door to her friend. ‘What the hell’s happened?’
‘Are you up for making coffee?’ Robin asked, her heart pounding at the thought of explaining everything to her. Not because she thought Molly would blame her for Will finding out about the charm offensive, but because her emotions were already dangerously close to the surface, and she’d never been able to hold them back from the woman she had been friends with since secondary school.
‘Of course,’ Molly said, shooting her a concerned look and leading her through to her pristine white kitchen. Neither of them spoke until they were sitting opposite each other at the central island. Robin clutched her mug, staring down at the chocolate shavings on her latte froth.
‘I would have thought you’d be on cloud nine after yesterday,’ Molly said cautiously. ‘After what happened with Will. Paige couldn’t wait to tell me. She was delirious with such a prime bit of gossip.’
‘Paige?’ Robin asked, incredulous. She had been convinced it was Maggie, the owner of the crazy-golf course, who had seen them kissing and passed it on. ‘She was the one who told you about us?’
Molly nodded. ‘Who else would have let me in on something like that? She’d just finished cleaning at yours and was on her way back here when she spotted you. She said you were oblivious to the rain, that it was like The Notebook – whatever that is. You don’t seem particularly happy about it. What’s happened?’
‘I bet you were so pleased that the plan was working, that Will looked like he was happy here.’ She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but wasn’t entirely sure she’d managed it.
Molly sat back, taking a pink wafer biscuit from the plate between them. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your plan,’ Robin said, ‘to get Will to stay in Campion Bay, and not sell number four to Tim. The cupcakes from Ashley, the night you organised at the taverna – all your scheming to get everyone to show him how welcome he was.’
Molly was shaking her head. ‘I didn’t get anyone to do any of those things.’
Robin frowned. ‘But your campaign, the one you cooked up on Will’s first day – the charm offensive. All that kindness people were showing him. You were behind it.’
‘I bloody wasn’t,’ Molly said, sitting up straight. ‘That campaign stuff wasn’t serious. Of course I want Will to stay, but all I did was tell Ashley and Roxy, Stefano and Nicolas, that Tabitha’s nephew was here for a while, and that he seemed like a great guy, a chip off the old Tabitha block.’ Molly looked at her in disbelief. ‘You thought I’d organised all those things? That I got Ashley to take him cakes and asked Nicolas to invite you for a discount night at the taverna?’
‘You didn’t?’ Robin’s voice was dry, her words a whisper.
‘No way! I was being flippant, that’s all. Besides, even before I’d thought of it, you were charming the socks off him. As I said in my text, you’re a publicity campaign all by yourself. Robin, what’s wrong? Please, tell me.’
Robin rubbed her eyes. ‘So what Ashley did, and Nicolas, they were being genuinely friendly, welcoming Will to Campion Bay?’
‘Yes, Robin.’
‘But you called it a campaign! You said we needed to get him to stay.’
Molly leaned her elbows o
n the island and put her hand over Robin’s. Her blue eyes were soft. ‘How long have you known me? You seriously thought I’d be capable of orchestrating some kind of military-precision scheme to convince Will that he belonged in Campion Bay? Obviously we’d all much rather have a friendly, sexy neighbour like him than see the house and its blue plaque ripped apart for the sake of Tim Lewis’s profit margins, but that’s up to Will, isn’t it? He has to make his own decisions. The odd show of generosity isn’t going to sway him one way or the other. But falling in love with a beautiful, intelligent woman who runs her own luxury business – now that could be a game changer.’
As Molly explained, the sickening realisation dawned on Robin. She’d mistaken Molly’s enthusiasm and excitement at Will appearing, her suggestions of ways to make him a permanent neighbour, as something more calculating. It had all seemed to fit: the way the other residents of Goldcrest Road had been treating Will. That’s what came of having lived in London for over a decade: she’d got out of the Campion Bay community mindset. She’d taken Molly’s suggestion of a campaign and the displays of kindness, put two and two together, and come up with five.
‘You thought I’d planned it all?’ Molly asked.
Robin nodded and swallowed. ‘And when Will commented on it, I thought you’d put your plan into action. To put him off the scent, I told him that people who live by the seaside are friendlier than people in London and that was how we treated all our new neighbours. But that was actually the truth.’
‘Too right it was. We were the same with you when you came back here. But maybe you didn’t see it because of Neve. You were grieving, oblivious, a lot of the time.’
‘I remember your kindness,’ Robin said softly. ‘I’ll never forget that. But … Oh, God, Molly. I’ve got it so wrong.’
‘What do you mean? Will you please tell me why you’ve turned up on my doorstep looking like a ghost, instead of someone who’s spent the last twenty-four hours snogging the most gorgeous guy in the vicinity?’
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