Spring Tides at Swallowtail Bay: The perfect laugh out loud escapist romantic comedy for summer! (Swallowtail Bay, Book 1)

by Katie Ginger

  ‘It’ll certainly make life easier for her. She’s a good girl. It’s nice to see things working out for the nice people for a change, isn’t it?’

  ‘It certainly is,’ he replied, finally picking out what he was going to have for lunch.

  Raina placed her hands on the top of the counter. ‘Now have you decided yet, young man, I can’t wait here forever. I’ve got a business to run.’

  Miles smiled. ‘It really is your own fault, you know, making everything look so great. But, I have decided and I’d like a roast beef and Stilton, please.’

  ‘I could have told you that’s what you’d order when you walked in here. You should just let me decide next time.’

  ‘Maybe I will,’ he teased. ‘In fact, I’d like another one for my supper later. Why don’t you choose that one for me?’

  ‘Right you are.’

  Raina set about making his two baguettes and a few minutes later he took his carrier bag with him as he left. ‘Thanks, Raina. This smells delicious.’

  ‘Enjoy it. And be good.’

  Miles left the shop, closing the door behind him. How could Lexi worry he’d be upset or angry that Vivien hadn’t left him her house or money? She’d left him her vinyl records and some of her books, including her poetry books, the one that contained her favourite he’d read at the funeral. That was more than enough for him. Lexi, kind as always, had offered to get them for him when she began sorting the house and Miles was happy to wait. He didn’t want to add any more pressure on her at the moment. He knew he’d get them eventually, and he’d treasure them. But Raina’s words worried him. Had he really come across as that sort of person who begrudged another’s happiness and good fortune? He was more relaxed now and, though he felt bad to admit it, happier since Kiera had left, but the thought that people thought of him as such a … such a … dick was shaming.

  As he walked past Old Herbert’s Shop, the name making him smile once more, he realised he had a good excuse to pop in and speak to Stella. If he really had been coming across so horribly he needed to fix it. He walked through the already open door and smiled at Frank.

  ‘Hello, boy.’ Frank wandered over to him, stretching as he went, then sat at his feet, waiting for a fuss. The lead was only just long enough to reach him and as he bent down he saw more new stock, blankets and cushions this time piled high on the old wingback chair Vivien used to sit in. They were in muted golds and mustardy browns and very good quality. The price Stella was asking made them a bargain and he wondered again where she was getting her stock from. If he did open a business he’d have to ask her for some tips. After scratching Frank behind the ears, Miles turned to Stella. ‘He’s got used to me now, I think.’

  ‘I think he has.’

  ‘I just popped in to say Raina told me about Lexi. I’m really pleased for her.’

  Stella’s eyes, warm and friendly, were sparkling at her friend’s good fortune and Miles felt the force of her kindness. ‘It’s such amazing news, isn’t it? I’m glad something good has come out of such a horrible thing.’

  ‘Yes. Vivien really was incredible.’

  ‘She was. I didn’t know whether to use her chair at first but I didn’t really want to move it either, so I kept it where it was and put it to good use. I couldn’t keep looking at it all empty; it was like I was still waiting for her to pop in.’

  ‘I think she’d be really pleased she’s still centre of attention,’ he joked, lifting the mood. ‘I bet they’re selling well. They look great.’

  ‘They are actually,’ Stella replied proudly. ‘I think the colours are a good choice. They’ll go in anyone’s homes and on nearly any colour sofa.’

  Conversation was going well for once and Miles found he wanted it to continue. ‘It wasn’t until the day of her funeral I realised all Vivien’s stories were true. I’d always thought she made them up, or at the very least over-exaggerated.’

  ‘Me too.’ Stella’s eyes opened wide in agreement. ‘I felt so bad when all those old opera singers turned up—’

  ‘Giving it all, “Darling,” this and “Darling”, that,’ he said, waving his hand around like the Queen.

  ‘Yes, exactly!’ Stella laughed and her face illuminated with the warmth of her smile.

  Miles searched for something to say, refusing to lose momentum. ‘How are the holiday lets going? Is that awful family still here?’

  ‘Yes, for another two weeks. They’re not that bad now they’ve settled in actually. The other flat is free this week and, to be honest, I’m quite relieved. With the funeral and everything it would have been hard to manage without Lexi’s help.’

  ‘It must be difficult doing it all on your own.’ Miles was careful to keep his voice and expression neutral and not sound at all judgy like he had done in the past. He was doing everything he could to control his manner and not let his nerves get the better of him, as he’d previously come across so badly.

  After studying him for a moment she answered. ‘It is sometimes but I’ve got Lexi for moral support. That smells delicious,’ she said pointing to his carrier bag. ‘Late lunch?’

  ‘Yeah. Well, one is a late lunch; the other a late dinner, probably. I’m a bit lazy when it comes to cooking.’

  ‘It can be hard when you’re on your own.’ A fleeting look of sadness passed over her eyes and was then engulfed by a fierce pink blush that galloped over her cheeks. ‘Wait – sorry, I – I didn’t mean to remind you that—’

  Miles laughed and held up his hand. ‘It’s okay. I know what you mean.’ To think that she was being nice and trying not to remind him of his break-up after how pompous and obnoxious he’d been to her – she must have the temperament of a saint. ‘Anyway I need to have something now because I’ve got to go away for a networking event this evening and the catering can be quite hit and miss. Those little canapés don’t fill you up and there’s never enough to go round.’

  Stella’s face relaxed. ‘Do you need me to keep an eye on the place again?’

  ‘No that’s okay, I’ll be back in the early hours. Just not sure what time. Thanks for the offer though.’

  ‘Sure.’ Stella hesitated as if she was unsure about her next sentence. Her cheeks reddened even more and she picked up a pen, fiddling with it. After another glance in his direction, she seemed to make her mind up. ‘Miles, I wondered if I could ask a favour in return?’

  ‘Of course.’ Internally he could have fist-pumped the air; he was so pleased she felt she could ask him something. It meant things were moving on from the dreadful start they’d had.

  ‘It’s a bit of an odd one, but I’m really, really stuck.’

  Miles smiled. ‘Go on, try me.’

  Still tapping the pen she spoke quickly. ‘I was wondering if you fancied coming to a wedding with me? Not like my date but – it’s next weekend in Oxford and I haven’t got anyone else I can ask.’ The blush had spread over her neck and she kept her eyes down on Frank, still absent-mindedly tapping. ‘I still don’t know that many people here.’

  He had to be honest, it wasn’t what he’d been expecting and he was taken aback. He’d thought she might ask him to walk Frank or help with a delivery; she had a lot more paintings coming in at the moment, he noticed. But Stella was nice and he really did admire her spirit in moving somewhere new and starting a business. And, despite being ridiculously awful to her, when he’d asked her a favour she hadn’t even flinched in saying yes. If he wanted a chance to prove to her, and the town, that he wasn’t a stuck-up idiot, this was it. ‘Okay, then. Yeah. I’d be happy to.’

  The relief on Stella’s face was palpable. ‘Oh, good, thanks. You won’t have to drive. I’ll do all the driving so you can have a drink and relax. And I won’t introduce you as my boyfriend, or anything, just a friend.’

  She was babbling a little and Miles felt his heart wriggle in his chest. ‘Okay, well, whatever you want. So you’ll text me when we need to leave and stuff, yeah?’

  She nodded. ‘I will.’ Miles gave Frank
one last pat and turned to walk away. ‘Miles?’

  He spun back at the sweetness of her tone and saw again the genuine smile on her pale pink lips. ‘Thank you.’

  As soon as he stepped outside he was accosted by the horrible family loading themselves into an enormous people carrier, parked on the double yellow lines out front. Josie sidled over and he felt his good humour begin to fade.

  ‘Hi, Miles. What are you up to today?’

  Inside he groaned but made an effort to smile back. ‘Hi, Josie. I’m just off to work in a bit.’

  ‘Anywhere exciting?’

  ‘No, not really. You?’ He nodded to the car.

  ‘Oh. We’re off to the theatre this evening. We’re having an afternoon in that town, oh – what’s it called? The one with the theatre and museum?’

  ‘Halebury?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the one. We’re staying at a hotel there overnight.’ She leaned in and whispered, ‘I don’t see why when Roger could easily drive but he says he wants to drink and Hermione won’t drive at night.’

  ‘Couldn’t you drive?’ he asked. ‘If you really don’t want to stay overnight.’

  She cocked her head like he’d just said something ridiculously stupid. ‘But then I couldn’t have a drink, and believe me these kids drive you to it.’

  He wasn’t sure she should be talking about her employers, or their children, like that to a complete stranger. She must have thought they were on better terms than they actually were.

  ‘Come on, Josie. We’re ready to go,’ called the man he presumed was Roger.

  ‘Listen, Miles, I was wondering if you fancied having a drink together sometime?’ She placed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and was jutting her chest out.

  Miles knew from the tension around his eyes his expression was that of a rabbit caught in headlights. Some men – men like Jay – might have been flattered, but she was so young the offer made him feel very uncomfortable. ‘Umm, Josie, listen, I’m quite a lot older than you—’

  ‘So? I don’t mind.’ She fluttered her eyelashes at him but all it did was cause another wave of panic and he answered bluntly without thinking.

  ‘I do though. Sorry.’ Her face changed in an instant and her eyes narrowed on him. It reminded him strangely of Kiera.

  ‘Fine,’ she replied, just as Roger called her again to get into the car.

  Miles turned and began to walk away hearing her huff in reply to them both. With a sigh he knew he’d had a lucky escape, but the kids didn’t seem as fortunate as she chastised them. He felt a little sorry for the two boys who were clearly going to be on short shrift that afternoon until one of them called Josie a name ten-year-old boys shouldn’t know and he marched on before his ears turned blue.

  Chapter 24

  Stella rolled over and glanced at the clock. It was two in the morning! She pulled the pillow down over her ears to shut out the noise. The horrible family must have decided to come home rather than stay in Halebury. That awful Roger had enjoyed telling her of their plan to spend even more money and stay overnight in the nearby town. Maybe the hotel hadn’t been up to their exacting standards. Urgh, they didn’t have to make quite so much of a racket though. They really were the worst. Luckily, Stella was bone-tired and her heavy eyelids closed again almost instantly. The next thing she knew the alarm was going off and the sun shone in through the bedroom window. It was time to start the day.

  At eleven, Stella took a quick break from what had been a fantastically busy morning to let Frank out the back for a wee. Just as she returned to the shop she saw the horrible family pull up on the double yellow lines out front. Weird, she thought they’d come home last night. Maybe they’d gone out early. Stella tutted. They could have easily parked at the side of the shop where there weren’t any lines, rather than breaking the law. Leaving the hazards on, they all climbed out and Josie and the children ran inside. A few minutes later Stella heard an ear-splitting scream and the kids and Josie came charging back down the stairs to where Roger was unloading the boot.

  Stella ran to the shop door and stuck her head out. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as Hermione, the mother, grabbed Josie by the shoulders and demanded to know the same.

  ‘We’ve been robbed,’ Josie shouted, tearfully.

  At the same moment, just to make matters worse, Miles walked around the corner from his house and stopped abruptly, surveying the scene. Hermione let go of Josie and her hands closed around her face. Her voice was hysterical and punctuated by gasping breaths. ‘What do you mean we’ve been robbed?’

  ‘Someone broke in and they’ve taken everything. All our clothes are everywhere, the TV’s gone and loads of other stuff.’

  Stella’s whole body went cold and her arms and legs felt like lead. The only thing she could hear was the hard pounding of her heart and blood thumping in her ears. Josie and Hermione turned to her, as did Miles. Stella glanced over their faces and ran as fast as she could next door and up the flight of stairs to the flat. The door was flung open and still on its hinges but the wood frame was splintered and cracked where a crow bar or something had forced the lock. She went in and saw that every room was ransacked. Josie had been right: clothes had been thrown everywhere, the contents of a chest of drawers had been removed and the wardrobe doors were left open, sticking out into the chaos. All the TVs were missing as were the stereo and the DVD player.

  Miles had followed Stella in and stood beside her. She turned to him, unable to say anything, or figure out what to do next. Josie, Hermione and Roger were frantically searching the room. The two children stood on the landing, peering in the doorway. Roger pushed past Stella to the bedroom and they followed behind, watching him check the bedside cabinet. The drawer had been left open but he glanced in it, then searched around the floor. ‘They’ve stolen our money,’ he said, before rounding on Stella. ‘I had a thousand pounds in that drawer.’

  ‘A thousand pounds?’ echoed Stella, willing her brain to work faster. Before she knew what was happening he was in her face, clicking his fingers in front of her eyes.

  ‘Hello! Anybody in there?’

  ‘There’s no need for that,’ said Miles, taking Roger’s hand and pushing it back towards him.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Stella. Every muscle twitched as the fight or flight response took hold and she had to resist the urge to run away. ‘I’d better call the police. I’ll replace your money, of course.’

  ‘Just wait,’ said Miles. ‘We’d better let the police deal with this first before you go promising anything, Stella.’

  ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ demanded Roger, squaring up to Miles.

  Panic washed over Stella as she worried that on top of everything there might now be a fight. Miles didn’t flinch but looked Roger in the eye and said calmly, ‘I’m saying we need to report this to the police first, then Stella can talk to her insurers and find out what she needs to do.’

  Roger backed away as Hermione dramatically flung herself into her husband’s arms, weeping. He looked at Josie. ‘Get the children and everything of ours you can find. We’re leaving. Now.’

  ‘Oh, Dad,’ one of them moaned. ‘Can’t we stay? This holiday has only just got exciting.’

  ‘I’ll go and call the police,’ said Stella and through her tears caught Miles’s eye. His face was a mixture of concern and sympathy, which was sweet of him, but there was nothing he could do to help. As she looked around, the pounding in her chest returned. ‘Oh no! I left the door open. Frank!’ As she’d just come back from letting him out she hadn’t had a chance to fasten his lead back onto his collar.

  Stella charged back down the stairs and out into the street to see the shop door wide open. How could she have been so stupid? Charging in, she ran around the counter shouting his name, but Frank wasn’t there. He’d gone. Tears stung her eyes and she pressed her hand to her mouth to stop the sobs from escaping.

  ‘He can’t have gone far,’ said Miles, appearing at the shop doorway, having followe
d her down. ‘We’ll find him.’

  Stella ran into the street, her body moving on instinct rather than through controlled movements. She looked around, desperately trying to think. It was a bright sunny day and even though there was only a slight breeze she was shivering, her chest juddering with fear. ‘He knows his way to the beach. I bet he’s gone there.’ She walked fast, glancing around, calling his name all the time, but each time she did it became a little more shaky – a little more desperate. Miles came too, also calling out, but Stella knew Frank wouldn’t come for anyone but her. As panic took over she began running, Miles keeping pace. ‘Frank? Frank? Here, boy, come on.’ But he was still nowhere to be seen.

  As she approached the road to the beach her lungs constricted, pushing all the air out. If he’d been hit by a car trying to cross and was lying in the road she’d never ever forgive herself, but thankfully he wasn’t. They ran between oncoming cars, Stella calling again and again, frantically turning her head left and right in the hope that she’d spot him. At the top of the beach she paused and a bolt of relief soothed her as she saw him down at the water’s edge chasing the seagulls who responded with flapping wings and angry caws. She let out a breath and cried. Without thinking she grabbed Miles’s arm and pointed him out. ‘There he is.’

  Miles smiled and it helped her calm down and breathe. ‘Frank!’ Stella called as they headed down the stony beach. Frank looked up upon hearing his name, his tail wagging like it was all a great game, his long ears flapping in the breeze. A seagull landed behind him and he turned suddenly, heading into the water. At first Stella wasn’t concerned; he’d need a bath when she got him back but that wasn’t a problem. She’d close the shop and snuggle up with him on the sofa – once she’d sorted out the burglary that is. She called his name again to distract herself from the thought of that and bring him near. All she wanted was to have him back. But then he began going deeper into the water and panic gripped Stella once more.

  The sound of the waves had brought her here to Swallowtail Bay and often at night she’d hear it in the background – a gentle white noise to help her sleep – but right now the waves weren’t gentle and the sound didn’t relax her. They were strong and crashing onto the shore, dragging the pebbles and engulfing them. Frank wasn’t swimming anymore; he was struggling in the water as the strong spring tide pulled him further and further away. Her throat tightened like someone had punched it and tears fell again. A strange sound came from Frank, something between a yelp and a bark. He was panicking, thrashing about. ‘He’s going to drown,’ she cried. ‘Oh, please no. He’s going to drown.’