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CHAPTER 28
Liam shielded his eyes from the low-lying sun. The sky was blazing orange and gold over a silver sea and seagulls wheeling above the cliffs were dark silhouettes. And there, perched high above the village and his farm, he could make out Driftwood House. The building belonged to Heaven’s Cove and was an integral part of the village but it was set apart, rather like Rosie herself.
He scuffed his feet into the soil, wondering why his thoughts kept returning to Rosie Merchant. She and her unpleasant boyfriend would be gone soon enough and life in Heaven’s Cove would return to normal. No more fighting to save Driftwood House. No more slow dances at village discos.
Deliberately, he turned his attention back to the view which never failed to soothe him these days. Not so long ago, the wide open sea and acres of land had bored him, and the responsibility of taking over the struggling family farm had felt stifling. The more he felt trapped, the more he’d caroused with his friends – drinking too much, kissing too many women.
But he’d grown into the landscape and now he appreciated the quiet moments when nature engulfed him and he could breathe.
‘All right, Billy. Give it a rest, mate.’ The dog’s sharp barks were shattering his peace.
‘I think he’s barking at me.’
Rosie was standing next to him. The air around him shifted and, for a moment, he thought his mind had conjured her up. But this figment of his imagination was solid enough when her hand brushed against his arm. ‘I don’t want to disturb you.’
‘You’re not. I was only looking at the view.’
Rosie tilted her chin to the sky and took a deep breath. ‘It’s beautiful here, isn’t it? I didn’t appreciate how magnificent the views are from Heaven’s Cove.’
‘Me neither. I rather took it all for granted.’
‘You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, until you move away.’
‘As you know, that was never an option for me, and most days I’m glad.’ He turned and looked at her properly for the first time – jeans, grey sweatshirt, hair pulled into a ponytail, dark circles beneath her big eyes. ‘What are you doing here? Are you and your boyfriend all out of eggs for Sunday tea?’
‘I wanted to tell you face to face, before I leave, that I’ve heard from Epping’s solicitor that Driftwood House can’t be saved.’ A spasm of pain passed across her face. ‘Let’s be honest. It was pie in the sky to think it could be. Mum’s gone and the house will go with her. Perhaps that’s the way it should be. But I thought you deserved to know first, after your work on the place, and I’m sorry it turned out to be a waste of your time.’
She sounded business-like, distant.
‘I was happy to help but I’m not surprised. Charles Epping is a bastard who screws people into the ground. Money is king as far as he’s concerned. I can’t stand him or his family.’ He took a deep breath. ‘So you got a phone call, did you? I thought you went to see the Eppings earlier today.’
Rosie scuffed her feet across the ground. ‘No, what made you think that?’
‘Someone thought they saw you out that way.’
‘Not me.’
She was lying. The pink spots in her cheeks were tell-tale signs – she’d be absolutely rubbish at poker. And Alex was adamant that he’d passed her car this afternoon, just a mile or two from the turning to High Tor House.
Rosie stared at her hands with their long, tanned fingers. Why didn’t she want to tell him? he wondered.
‘It’s such a shame about the house,’ she said. ‘I know it’s just bricks and mortar but losing Driftwood House feels like another small death.’ She dipped her head. ‘Stupid, isn’t it?’
‘Not at all. It’s been your home since you were born. So what happens next?’
‘I finish packing up the house and head for Spain.’
‘You and Matt.’
‘He went earlier today. Matt and I… well, it’s all got a bit complicated.’
She flushed again and Liam fought the urge to put his arm around her shoulders. It would be fine as a friendly gesture but, after the feelings stirred up by their slow dance, he wouldn’t mean it as a friend. He’d end up wanting to kiss her and what was the point of all these emotions? He’d only just put a lid on them. He turned his face again towards the sea.
‘Complicated how?’ he asked, levelly.
‘We’ve broken up and he’s flying back to Spain right now, probably to see Carmen.’
‘Who’s Carmen?’
