Do Not Disturb

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘Good Lord!’ one of the guests murmured. ‘How terrible!’

  ‘That sounds a bit far-fetched,’ Robin said, her brain connecting to her mouth before she’d had a chance to moderate the words.

  Will turned to her, his expression patient. ‘Are you suggesting I’m making it up?’

  Robin wondered if she should backtrack, but it was too late for that. ‘It’s a bit of a coincidence that the most impressive room is home to such a scandalous story. Too good to be true, maybe.’

  ‘Are you questioning my integrity?’ Will’s voice had an edge now, and Robin licked her lips, giving herself time before she replied.

  ‘No, not at all. I know that someone like you would never, ever make anything up. Not even to try and make the tours more interesting.’ They stared at each other, and it may have been Robin’s imagination, but she thought she saw Will’s lips flicker upwards. He walked slowly around the other side of the bed, his loud footsteps steady and suddenly menacing.

  ‘Apparently,’ he said in a low voice, ‘people who have stayed in this room have encountered Henry’s presence. He lingers here still, unable to move on from such an unjust death, tormenting guests of the family with his moaning. There have been infrequent sightings too, occasional glimmers of a forlorn figure reflected in the mirror or the window.’

  ‘That is a load of poppycock,’ the military man said.

  Will grinned and folded his arms. ‘So you’d be happy to stay in this room, then? For a whole night?’

  ‘Of course I would,’ he scoffed. ‘Nothing to it!’

  The dark-haired woman took a step forward. ‘I’d rather stay in the other room you mentioned, the one with the canopy of stars. It sounds so romantic and, if it’s ghost-free, then I’m in.’ She tucked her hair behind her ear again, gazing at Will with barely disguised admiration. Robin bit back her laugh, seeing irritation cross the husband’s face, and realised she felt a glimmer of envy that was entirely ridiculous, not least because she had no claim over Will at all.

  ‘That room’s in a guesthouse,’ Will replied. ‘So it is available to be booked by the public, unlike here. I have no idea if it’s haunted, though. It’s in a seaside town not far from here called Campion Bay. It’s a very special room. Unique, you might say.’

  Robin stared, speechless. Was he actually promoting her guesthouse, or was there about to be an unpleasant punchline? Was this some roundabout way of showing her he forgave her, or a charitable act because he’d moved out of Starcross at such short notice? She thought she detected an edge of bitterness in his voice, but his expression was unreadable.

  ‘Oh, I’ve heard of Campion Bay,’ one of the older women said. ‘Lovely beach, quaintly pretty. One of the nicest seafronts along this part of the coast. No caravan parks or arcades.’

  ‘It’s very beautiful,’ Robin murmured, and then realised this was her way in. Will was almost inviting her to talk about the upcoming event; she wouldn’t get another chance like this. As he led them out of the murderous bedroom, Robin took a deep breath and spoke again, raising her voice so that it carried.

  ‘Campion Bay’s holding an outdoor music night next week,’ she said, hoping she sounded casual. ‘On the promenade.’

  ‘What’s that dear?’ A grey-haired woman turned towards her.

  Robin swallowed. ‘The seaside town that Will mentioned. Some of the residents are putting on an open-mic night, people performing summer songs on the promenade. There are going to be food stalls, a mobile bar, and music from some talented musicians. It should be a lovely event, and you can’t get a better backdrop than the sea.’

  She was getting curious looks now, people wondering why she was hijacking the tour with this irrelevant piece of information.

  ‘It sounds lovely, dear.’ A woman patted her arm, and she knew she was losing their attention. She wished she was like Will, able to draw people in with only a few words.

  ‘An open-mic night?’ Will asked as he led the tour out into the sunshine. He sounded curious, probably in spite of himself.

  ‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s something I’m doing with a friend, Molly, and one of my guesthouse guests.’ They had all stopped in a group on the sandy pebbles. Robin glanced at the visitors, holding everyone’s gaze as Will had done. ‘The area – Campion Bay – has such a strong sense of community these days. Something that, until very recently, I hadn’t fully realised.’

  Now Will’s expression did change, anger flashing across his face. Robin ran her sweaty palms down her trousers and continued. ‘Anyway, I wanted to do something for the community – with them – so we’re putting on this music night. But we’re missing a compère for the evening, someone who can introduce the acts.’ She forced herself to look at Will, and he stared back impassively.

  ‘Ooh, you could get that celebrity – what’s his name?’ The woman with the scarf clicked her fingers. ‘Billy Bragg. He likes a bit of music, doesn’t he? I’m sure he lives round here somewhere.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ Robin said, nodding. ‘Except that we don’t have that kind of budget. I was thinking of someone who has a real presence, who’s good at speaking in front of people …’ She let her words trail off, hoping that Will would step in.

  There was a moment of quiet while the warm breeze drifted lazily over them, and Robin thought she heard the cry of a peacock far in the distance.

  ‘Oh!’ The scarf-clad woman clapped her hands together. ‘What about lovely Will here? You’d be ever so good at that sort of thing, my lovey. You’ve done such a super job of telling us about the house.’

  There were murmurs of assent from the other guests, and the woman with the dark bob said quietly, to nobody in particular, ‘I’d definitely go if he was going to be there.’

  Robin felt a surge of hope as the chatter grew and people started asking questions. ‘When is this event?’ ‘Where’s Campion Bay again?’ And, from Mr Military to Will, ‘So, are you going to do it then? Help this young girl out with her community-spirit whatsit?’ His voice rose above those of the other members of the group and everyone stopped talking, their eyes on Will to see what his answer would be. Robin held her breath, and waited like the rest of them.

  Chapter Five

  ‘You railroaded me. I’m never going to see any of those people again. I don’t actually have to do it.’

  Will and Robin were sitting side by side on the low wall at the edge of the courtyard in front of Eldridge House, the breeze caressing them with thoughts of summer as the sun moved slowly across the sky. Robin was conscious of how close they were, her bare arm inches from his, tanned and with a dusting of light-brown hairs. Arms that had, less than two weeks ago, held her so closely against him.

  ‘I think most of them are coming to the event now,’ she said, ‘and they’ll be disappointed if it turns out you’re not introducing it. Do you make fans like that on every tour?’

  Will laughed awkwardly. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I don’t have to be at your music night, so I won’t see their disappointment.’

  ‘You’d leave me at their mercy? They’re already looking forward to the Will Nightingale show. You can’t back out now!’

  ‘I can,’ he said. ‘You put me in that position. You came here deliberately to make me agree to this.’

  Robin glanced at his profile and frowned. She couldn’t tell how serious he was being, whether he was genuinely upset with her, or if this was a remnant of the gentle jibes they had shared when things were good between them. Will was sitting very still, gripping the low wall. She had that sense that he was trying hard to control his emotions, and she felt a wave of guilt that she was the cause.

  ‘You were the one who mentioned Campion Bay and the guesthouse to begin with,’ she said lightly. ‘I was struggling to find a way to bring it into the conversation.’

  ‘So I walked right into it. Again.’

  Robin sagged. This time she knew it wasn’t friendly teasing. ‘Will, come on. It
was an honest mistake. I misunderstood Molly, and I wanted you to feel welcome! Does it matter now?’

  ‘And what about you and Tim, keeping his involvement in Tabitha’s house from me? Was that an honest mistake too?’

  ‘There’s nothing going on,’ she said defiantly, feeling him slipping away from her. ‘There hasn’t been since I moved down here again.’

  He stood up. ‘I’ll be involved in the open-mic night if you want me to be. I should repay the residents of Goldcrest Road for their kindness, but I don’t want to go over this with you, Robin. Not now. I have to get back to work.’

  ‘Please, Will—’

  ‘Text me what you want me to do. I’ll be there.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that,’ she called, but he kept walking away from her, towards the house. He didn’t look back.

  ‘So everything’s set, then?’ Lorna clapped her hands together, then picked Eclipse up from where he was licking his paws on one of the benches in Sea Shanty, and held him high above her head. Eclipse dangled, unimpressed, but didn’t struggle. Robin bit back her laughter, realising that growing up in a house full of strangers, all with different temperaments, different opinions about animals, was probably the best thing that could have happened to her little cat. He was so tolerant.

  She wondered what he’d think of Darcy if he saw her again now. Will’s presence had been missing from the guesthouse for almost two weeks. In normal circumstances, there would be nothing unusual about that – he’d been a guest, not a lodger – but to Robin it felt like her world was incomplete.

  ‘Most things are set,’ she replied, turning back to the to-do list on the table in front of her.

  Taverna on the Bay was running a special menu, Roxy and Ashley were staying open late and the food vendors and mobile bar had been booked. She and Molly had checked Maggie’s sound and lighting system the evening before, working out how to rig up the amplifier and microphone for the performers, and maximise Lorna’s reach with a bridge mic inside her acoustic guitar. There had been a flurry of online traffic in response to the posts she’d put on Facebook and Twitter, and she had fifteen different acts signed up to sing or play on the night, including her special guests.

  She’d decided to ask for performers before, rather than accept them as impromptu on the night, so she would have better control over the event. She didn’t want to run the risk of Lorna and Crow’s Feet being her only acts, and unlike at a club, anyone would be able to watch the performances, and she had to have an idea of whom she was putting on beforehand, so she wouldn’t cause any offence to families in the audience.

  She had taken Instagram photos of the huge bundles of fairy lights she’d bought, and of the promenade where they were hosting the concert, as the sun went prettily down. She’d posted information and pictures of the open-mic acts, and had taken a couple of shots of Lorna who, she had decided, would open the concert and have another slot near the end, before the Crow’s Feet set. The warm weekend seemed to have inspired everyone, and Robin had struggled to keep up with the flurry of comments below her posts, answering questions as quickly as she could to get the buzz going and encourage lots of people to attend.

  Now it was Monday morning, five days to go until the Goldcrest Road music night, and Robin was worried by how little there was left to do. Lorna’s energy had been growing every day, her excitement and nerves playing across her usually passive face. It was as if she was storing it up, working herself into a fever pitch that she would expel slowly as magical music on the night. She was a different person from the timid woman who had appeared on Robin’s doorstep with her guitar case, and Robin felt a flush of accomplishment that she was, in part, responsible for the transformation.

  ‘It’s going to be incredible,’ Lorna said now, lowering Eclipse into a hug, patting the cat’s back as if he were a baby who needed burping. ‘You have no idea how grateful – amazed – I am that you’re doing this for me.’

  ‘I’m very happy to do it,’ Robin said honestly. ‘It’s not on my usual list of special offers, but I had the ability – and the friends – to help you, and I couldn’t think of a reason not to.’

  ‘It’s very spontaneous.’ Lorna sat opposite Robin, the sun coming through the open windows dappling the wooden table, the breeze wafting gently around them, whispering at their hair. ‘And you’ve organised everything so quickly. But the cost of it – the stage, the equipment you’ve hired – isn’t it going to bankrupt you, if you’re putting the concert on for free?’

  ‘So many of our neighbours are giving their time and help for nothing. Maggie’s letting us use the electricity at the crazy-golf course, Molly and Paige have been helping to promote it online and across as much of Campion Bay as possible, and even Crow’s Feet reduced their usual appearance fee.’

  ‘But you’ve still got to pay them something. It must be costing you a lot more than you’re getting back from the food vendors.’ Lorna raised her eyebrows.

  ‘It’s all fine. Please don’t worry.’ Robin gave her a reassuring smile. The local, well-known band was the biggest outlay, and the stage and other equipment hire weren’t cheap, but Robin had committed to doing it. And it would be worth it to help Lorna, to provide the town with some free entertainment and show the residents of Goldcrest Road that she valued being a part of their community.

  ‘Paige has picked some excellent songs,’ Lorna said, as if unable to cope with the silence. ‘I never would have thought of Ben Howard or James Bay, but the tracks she’s suggested are perfect. And finishing my second set with Bon Jovi is a stroke of genius. Everyone will have to sing along – they’ll be excited about Crow’s Feet by then anyway.’

  ‘I can’t believe she picked Bon Jovi. I know they’re still going, but not like they used to. Which track? Please say it’s one of their earlier ones.’

  ‘“Someday I’ll be Saturday Night” – my voice isn’t suited to something as rocky as “Livin’ on a Prayer”, but this one, I can do.’

  ‘That’s going to be perfect!’ Robin closed her eyes and imagined Lorna’s voice lifting above the crowd as everyone joined in, the sea in front of them, dusk falling slowly, bringing out the fairy lights. ‘Oh, I’ve got shivers just thinking about it.’

  ‘I know,’ Lorna said, grinning. ‘Me too!’

  Her giddiness was infectious and Robin felt the tug of it, wondering how she was going to stay calm and composed for the next few days.

  ‘So who’s this guy that’s introducing the whole event? Molly said he was a professional, and that I’d be over the moon with the choice.’

  ‘Ah.’ Robin’s excitement subsided. ‘It’s Will. I don’t know if you’ve seen him. He’s staying next door while he clears it out. The house belonged to his aunt and … He’s a tour guide. So he’s professional in the sense that he talks to people for a living. He’s very good at it.’

  ‘Oh great.’ Lorna took a sip of lemonade. ‘And why will I be pleased with him, particularly? Is he into music?’

  Robin frowned. ‘I don’t know what music he likes, actually. But I’m sure he’ll do a great job with the crowd. He’s very … engaging.’ She settled on that word, remembering how he had captivated everyone on the tour, and talked about the guesthouse with something approaching longing. But since their awkward conversation sitting on the wall of Eldridge House, she’d texted him several times, asking when would be a good time to meet, but he’d always put her off and suggested she should message him the details. He must know that wasn’t a plausible way of doing things, but she understood that he was still reluctant to spend time with her.

  Her miserable musings were interrupted by the doorbell, and she got to her feet, leaving Lorna at the table. She’d said goodbye to some of her guests at the weekend, had moved Lorna into Starcross as a young couple from near Brighton had booked to stay in Rockpool, but three of the rooms were unoccupied until Wednesday. She wondered if it was someone enquiring about the guesthouse, or wanting to sign up to perform at the open-mic ni
ght.

  ‘Hello?’ Her smile faltered when she saw it was Tim. He was in his shirtsleeves, his tie the colour of summer sand, making his blond curls seem even more luminous.

  ‘Robin Brennan,’ he said, the words coming out as a sigh. His smile was less than brilliant, and she was shocked at the uncertainty in his expression.

  ‘How are you?’ she asked. ‘Planning any more wild nights at the Artichoke?’

  Tim dropped his gaze from hers, and Robin realised that he felt bad about his drunken appearance. He had lowered his guard in her presence, and he wasn’t happy about it. ‘About my … visit, the other night. It was stupid.’

  ‘It was amusing.’ Apart from the near-kiss part, she added silently.

  Tim rolled his eyes. ‘So glad I could provide you with some entertainment. Can I come in? I have a proposition for you.’

  ‘Sure.’ She stood back and let him in, happy to be on the front foot with him feeling embarrassed about their last encounter.

  ‘Hi.’ Tim greeted Lorna as Robin led him into Sea Shanty. Eclipse jumped on to the table, butting his head against Tim’s hand and forcing him to stroke him. Robin saw pinpoints of colour on Tim’s cheeks, and remembered how he’d uncharacte‌ristically let Eclipse sit on his lap. She was glad her cat wasn’t going to let him forget it.

  ‘Hello.’ Lorna shook Tim’s hand and gave a questioning glance to Robin. ‘Are you Will?’

  ‘No, I’m Tim Lewis, not Will. Why? Has Robin been talking about him?’

  ‘He’s introducing the open-mic night at the end of the week,’ Lorna said proudly. ‘Apparently he’s going to blow everyone away.’

  ‘It’s you that will be doing that, Lorna,’ Robin cut in. ‘Will’s going to introduce the evening, that’s all. It’s a very small part of it.’

  ‘But the way you and Molly have been talking about him—’