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I didn’t register Finn’s hand falling away from mine, but it must have done, for it was now raised to his eyes, acting like a visor. His other was curiously clenched at his side.
‘I think it smells like there’s a—’
‘Fire!’ cried a voice from the hotel’s entrance, completing my sentence. Moments later, this was confirmed by the continuous pealing of the fire alarm.
‘Oh my God,’ I cried, realising the flickering red light I’d seen in the downstairs windows had actually been flames.
I began hurrying towards the hotel in case help was needed, with Finn half a step behind me. Before we were even halfway across the manicured lawns, we were met by a tide of diners and hotel guests who’d been evacuated from the building and were being guided to safety by hotel employees. Like well-trained border collies, the staff were rounding up everyone to a fire assembly point in the grounds.
There were several worried faces among the guests, but none looked quite so concerned as the man standing beside me. We were nowhere near the heat of the flames and yet I spotted tiny beads of perspiration on his forehead.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked, already aware that whatever was bothering him was being hastily concealed behind impenetrable shutters.
‘I’m fine,’ he said, twisting his lips into an approximation of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
The hotel staff were busily checking off guests and staff on registers and clipboards. They bustled around us, to a backdrop of rumours and speculation.
‘I heard someone say it started in a storeroom but was quickly confined and put out in minutes.’
‘Let’s hope they let us back in soon, because my entrée was about to arrive.’
‘Hey, I bet they comp our meals,’ someone added gleefully.
The general level of anxiety seemed fairly low-key, although it spiked slightly at the sound of approaching emergency vehicles.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ began the hotel manager, shouting in a way that seemed out of character as he struggled to make himself heard above the crescendo of fire engine sirens. ‘I sincerely apologise for the disruption to your evening’s enjoyment. As some of you might have heard, we experienced avery small fire in one of our storage rooms, which was quickly extinguished. However, the fire service will need to fully inspect the building before we’re permitted to return inside. Again, please accept our apologies and a glass of complimentary champagne that we’ll be offering you in a moment.’
There was a rather bizarre round of applause from the crowd on the lawn, which could have been for the manager, the champagne or the firefighters, who were now leaping down from their appliances and unspooling hoses they’d have no need to use.
I turned to Finn, but his focus was fixed on the three fire engines and the teams who were about to enter the building. The sirens had been deafening, and even after they’d been turned off, it felt as though I could still hear them, like a ricocheting echo bouncing off the trees.
Waiters were now circulating among the crowd, carrying silver trays loaded with champagne. One headed towards us, but I shook my head and motioned him away. Finn had said nothing since the fire alarm first sounded, but I’d have had to be blind not to see the tension thrumming through him. It was totally different to the kind that had arced between us just a short while ago.
My thoughts were spinning, like wheels in mud, as I tried to think of a way to recapture our earlier relaxed mood. ‘I imagine it’ll take them some time before they can give the building the all-clear,’ I said, slipping my hand into the crook of Finn’s elbow. It was like trying to snuggle up to a statue. ‘Why don’t we go for a walk while they sort things out here?’
Journalists are pretty good at trusting their instincts, and mine were telling me that Finn wouldn’t be able to fully relax until we’d put some distance between ourselves and the fire. It seemed to take a real effort for him to tear his eyes away from the three appliances at the front of the hotel. I wondered if he’d ever had to cover a story about a fire; one that hadn’t ended as harmlessly as the one this evening. That kind of thing could leave a scar on even a hardened journo. Could that be the reason he’d abandoned the profession and opened up the coffee shop?
‘There’s a pathway to one side of the grounds that leads down to the seafront and a small promenade,’ Finn said, jerking my thoughts back from my musings.
‘That sounds perfect,’ I said, pleased to feel a noticeable relaxation in his rigid stance.
It wasn’t really surprising to find we were the only guests who wanted to leave. The combination of free bubbly, firemen and a smidgen of drama was clearly enough of a draw for the other patrons to want to hang around.
We were stopped by a solitary hotel employee who happily informed us that our meal tonight would be on the house, just as the hopeful guest had predicted.
‘We’ll be back in a little while,’ Finn informed him.
13
THEBEACH
Four years earlier
We were several hundred feet down the narrow pathway that led to the seafront before Finn spoke again. We might have left the lingering smell of smoke far behind, yet it still seemed to hang over our heads like a dark cloud.
‘I’m sorry about the way I reacted back there,’ Finn said eventually, inclining his head in the direction of The Manor House.
For a moment I considered pretending that I hadn’t noticed anything peculiar, but lying seemed like a very poor way to start whatever this thing between us might turn out to be.
