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‘No, not even after my dad died. She never even told me that you owned this house.’
‘Sofia completely cut me out of your lives.’
‘She thought you’d done the same.’
Charles nodded and hung his head, weighed down by memories. And in spite of her antipathy towards this man, Rosie felt a pang of compassion.
‘You weren’t mentioned but she never forgot you. I only found out about you because of the mementos she kept.’
‘That’s kind of you to say in the circumstances. What do you think Sofia would make of me being here now?’
Rosie swallowed, close to tears. ‘I think she’d be glad that the secret’s out at last.’
‘I truly hope so. Look, Rosie, I have no right to expect anything, but what happens next?’
‘What would you like to happen?’
Charles rubbed his eyes, his face grey with exhaustion. ‘I have no experience of being a father and I don’t wish to take the place of the father you had. I know I never can and I don’t deserve to. But I’d like to get to know you, at your own pace, if that would be acceptable.’
When Rosie nodded, Charles visibly relaxed and sank into the sofa. ‘Cecilia told me that you’ve agreed to run Driftwood House as a guesthouse. I’m glad you’re not going back to Spain, and I’d like to give you the house as a gift. It’s not a bribe,’ he added, quickly, as Rosie started to speak. ‘Driftwood House is mine to give away now I’m the head of the family and, whether you want to see me or not, Driftwood House is yours.’
‘I can’t possibly accept it.’
‘Please. You must.’
‘What would Cecilia think of that?’
‘It was actually her idea, while we were discussing the future. I’m beginning to realise that I don’t deserve her either.’
He pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and blew his nose loudly while Rosie tried to stay calm.
‘Thank you for your offer, but there’s no way I can accept Driftwood House.’
‘Why not?’
‘Cecilia told me about your financial challenges and said income was needed from this house.’
‘We might have to sell a painting or two, but you’re my daughter and it’s time I started acting like a father. I insist that you have Driftwood House. My solicitor is already drawing up the paperwork so I’ll hear no more about it.’
Somewhere in the house, a door banged as Rosie took in the news. Not only was Driftwood House saved, it was also hers. A sense of peace wrapped itself around her heart as Sofia beamed from the photograph.
‘Of course, with Driftwood House in your possession, you can sell it and move on if you’d rather. I don’t think Heaven’s Cove has always been to your liking.’
‘You could say that.’ Rosie smiled, thinking of all the plans she’d made in this very room to escape from the village. ‘But I think I’ll stay here and open my own guesthouse, if that’s all right. This place will make a wonderful retreat for tourists, and it’ll give me something to throw myself into.’
‘Would your decision to stay have anything to do with the young man whose case you championed this afternoon?’
‘Partly, but also I’ve been travelling for long enough and now it’s time to come back home, where I belong.’
After Charles had left, Rosie walked through the gathering dusk to the cliff edge, spread out her jacket and sat down on it.
Tomorrow, she would tell Liam her news. She touched her mouth, still able to feel his lips on hers. He would be pleased she had even more reasons to stay.
Her mum too, even though it was too late for them to spend time together. The wave of grief that washed over Rosie was tempered by the knowledge her mother could finally rest in peace, now that her secrets had lost their power.
Her mum would have been so happy to see Rosie in love.Fancy you hooking up with Liam Satterley. He’d better treat you right or he’ll have me to answer to.
Rosie laughed and looked back at Driftwood House. Light was spilling from the open front door and she could almost imagine her mother standing in the doorway, waving.
She turned her attention back to the dark sea.The sandy beach wasn’t visible; only the white tips of the waves were flashes of brightness in the gloom. But Heaven’s Cove was lighting up like a beacon. White light from the shopfronts of stores now closed, the colourful fairy lights outside The Smugglers Haunt, and there, on the edge of the village, a golden glow from Meadowsweet Farmhouse. She was home.
