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Katrina’s sympathetic tilt of the head was accompanied by an exaggerated frown. ‘Really? That’s a shame he couldn’t come and support you.’
Liam wiped foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand. ‘He’s been ringing Rosie, begging her to go back to Spain.’
‘Wow, that’s so romantic,’ squeaked Nessa, before being silenced by a look from Katrina, a look that Rosie remembered from school – sharp, cold, intimidating.
‘Perhaps you’d better head back as quickly as you can, then, Rosie.’
‘I will before too long, don’t you worry. I miss the wonderful weather, and Heaven’s Cove seems pretty boring compared to southern Spain.’
Katrina looked sour, which was what Rosie was aiming for. But she regretted point-scoring when she spotted Nessa’s downcast face. Liam was staring into his pint.
‘Though there’s a lot I’ve missed about this place,’ she added, quickly.
‘What, exactly?’ asked Nessa. ‘The rain, the smell of fish and the total lack of privacy maybe?’
‘Of course, all that goes without saying. I’ve missed the view from Sorrell Head too, and the change in seasons, and people who’ve known me for a long time.’
She was only saying it to be polite and make Nessa feel better, but there was some truth in it. In Spain, surrounded by people who barely knew her, Rosie was a blank canvas on which she could project anything she wished. Over there, she was confident, bold, funny – sexy, according to Matt. In short, nothing like the timid Rosie of her school days. But sometimes she missed parts of who she was back then and what she had in Heaven’s Cove: security, permanence, family.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a smashing glass at the bar, and a huge cheer from everyone in the pub –everyone save for Belinda, whose floral dress was now drenched in spilt beer.
‘I think she might be leaving,’ shouted Liam, nodding at Belinda, who was gathering up her coat and bag.
Rosie stood up quickly, almost knocking over John’s pint and prompting another cheer from the people around her.
‘Sorry. I’m still as clumsy as ever. I really must have a word with Belinda, and then I’ll head back to Driftwood House because there’s a lot to do. But it was lovely seeing you all again.’
‘See you tomorrow,’ said Liam, eliciting a jaw drop from Katrina.
Rosie pushed her way through the throng and caught up with Belinda outside, as she was pushing her arms into the coat being held up by her husband.
‘Hello, Belinda and Jim, how are you? I hope you didn’t get too wet in there.’
Jim! Rosie had just realised something, but she shook her head. Just because Belinda’s husband had a name that began with J, that didn’t mean he was her mum’s secret love.
‘If Fred drank less and served his customers more efficiently, fewer accidents would happen,’ said Belinda tartly, mopping at her dress with the handkerchief produced from Jim’s pocket. ‘This dress is dry clean only.’ She stopped mopping and stared at Rosie. ‘And how are you doing in that big house all on your own? I hear you ordered supplies from Shelley’s. Paint and the like.’
‘I’m giving the place a bit of a facelift before I leave.’
‘For what reason?’ asked Belinda, waving her husband away when he tried to mop the beer that was dripping off the hem of her dress onto the cobbles.
Should she lie? Tell Belinda… what, though? However you looked at it, decorating a house that was earmarked for demolition was not the most sensible of actions. If she told Belinda the truth, it would be all round the village like a shot – but people would find out soon enough, anyway.
‘I’ve suggested to the Eppings that, rather than building a new hotel, Driftwood House would make a wonderful guesthouse. They’ve given me a few weeks to spruce the place up and show them its potential.’
Belinda gasped, her mouth gaping open. If Rosie had thrown off her clothes and danced naked around the quay, Belinda could not have looked more surprised.
‘You’ve been in touch with Charles and Cecilia Epping?’
‘I went to see them.’
Belinda’s jaw dropped further. ‘Youwent to seeCharles and Cecilia Epping? Where?’
‘At their house on Dartmoor.’
‘Were you invited?’
‘No, I turned up on the off-chance that they were in.’
