Page 99 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

Nate and Magnus exchanged a glance.

‘We were . . .’ Sammy trailed off.

‘Evening,’ Jimmy said, looking around the table. He leaned back in his chair, one arm slung across the back. ‘And you lot?’ he said. ‘All work together with my Aunt Val, don’t you? At the big house?’

‘We do,’ Sammy said. At least Valerie’s nephew seemed friendlier than the aunt.

Chloe tipped more wine into her glass, spilling a little as she went. ‘It’s all very grand,’ she said.

Sammy stared out through the open window. The tide had turned fully now. The water pulled hard against itself, boats knocking softly along their lines. She swivelled back to the party. ‘We were talking about the gardens,’ she said. ‘Nate here will soon be planting some specialist apple and pear trees.’

‘Thrilling,’ Chloe said.

Magnus picked his glass up turning it round a few times as if looking for smudges. ‘And what is it you do, Jimmy . . . during the daytime?’

Jimmy snorted. ‘That’s a question.’

‘Yes . . .’ said Nate, ‘what do you do for a living?’

Jimmy took a long pull on his pint. ‘I get by.’

‘Indeed,’ said Magnus.

Sammy picked at the rim of her glass. ‘Getting late already . . . we should go.’

‘It’s only eight o’clock,’ said Chloe. ‘You all go if you must, I’ll make my own way. Leave the door on the latch.’ Chloe bent closer, breath warm against Sammy’s ear. ‘I’ll see you later. I think I’ve hooked a fish.’

Outside, the air brushed cool against Sammy’s face. She let the steady shushing sound of the sea calm her thoughts, while behind her, Chloe’s voice rose again.

Twenty-four

Light pulled Sammy awake. It came clean through the curtains, already strong, filling the bedroom before she’d fully opened her eyes. She stayed where she was, listening to birds jostling through the hedge and, further off, the slow, steady clip-clop of a horse trotting along the lane.

She got up, yawning and stretching as she padded to the window and shoved it open, gazing down at Nate’s garden, spread out below, where an enormous bee worked its way through the lavender. Cool air rushed in, edged with something sweet.

She drew in another breath. Time to get ready. Across the landing the bathroom door was wide open.

A towel lay where it had been dropped, damp against the floor. Around the sink, makeup – tubes with lids missing, brushes left where they’d fallen. A smear of bright blue toothpaste lay along the side of the sink. Last night while removing her own makeup, Sammy had left the mess hoping Chloe would clear it away when she got back.

Sammy stomped into the bathroom. She hung up the towel. Replaced the cap on the toothpaste. Cleared enough space around the sink to use it.

Wrapped in a towel, her skin still warm from a shower, Sammy went back to the bedroom.

As she brushed her hair, fragments of last night’s walk home through the village came to her. The cobbles underfoot, dark hedges on either side. A squawking pheasant scuttling across the road. Nate beside her. Magnus, on the other side. Nate had said little. Once or twice, something dry, sometimes so soft that she’d caught it and Magnus hadn’t.

Sammy put the brush down, one hand still in her hair. It would have been different, just the two of them. She would have liked that.

Sammy slipped downstairs, trying not to notice too much. An empty glass with a dark red ring clinging to the bottom. The roses pulled her up short – back on the table, Chloe’s scarf was knotted around the stems, holding them together like a bouquet. She picked up the dirty glass, thinking the roses had been fine before Chloe’s scarf got involved.

In the kitchen, she flicked on the kettle and rinsed the glass. A blob of something sticky clung to the table – she wiped that away.

Finishing her cup of tea, she reached for her bag.

The front door opened. Chloe stumbled in, sunglasses on.

‘Morning,’ she said, ‘You will not believe my night.’

Sammy stepped back to let her pass. ‘Are you all right?’