St Piran's: The Wedding!. Alison Roberts

would be worried about her. Her friend had been dubious about the return. Why not come somewhere sunny to recuperate? she’d suggested. Like San Savarre? Or London, which would be close enough to make sorting things out a little easier and she wouldn’t be so alone because Charles would be there, wouldn’t he? Being with such a good friend who knew the whole story would be the best protection from being vulnerable to ghosts from the past.

      She could cope, Megan had assured Tasha. It wouldn’t be for long. Yes, she knew that Josh had moved from the smart St Piran town house he’d shared with Rebecca and was living closer to Penhally now. Of course he had moved. He’d needed a bigger house and a garden for the children and for his mother, who’d gone to live with them. By tacit agreement, she and Tash rarely talked about her brother but in those early days Megan had needed to know that the babies had survived their dramatic entrance to the world and had gone on to thrive. She hadn’t really needed the later snippets that had told her Josh was a perfect father to little Max and Brenna. Or that his emergency department at St Piran’s hospital was considered to be the best in the county.

      Or that there were no women of any significance in his life. That he’d taken some sort of vow not to mess up anybody else’s life.

      His children and his career were all that mattered to Josh now. He probably wouldn’t even be interested that she was visiting the area. There was no reason for their paths to cross other than the fact that this was a small village.

      Megan closed her eyes to the view of Penhally Bay she still had in front of her through the kitchen window.

      Maybe it was time to really let go of the past.

      All of it.

      Sell her grandmother’s cottage and move on for ever.

      If the memories were this hard to handle, how on earth did she think she would cope if she actually met Josh again?

      The sooner she got out of here the better.

      Maybe she didn’t even need to think about fixing up the cottage. It wasn’t as if it would make much difference to the kind of money a developer would be happy to offer.

      She did need to find a place to stay for the night, however, and she really didn’t want to contact any old friends from St Piran’s even though she knew they would be happy to help.

      The information centre in the village should be able to direct her to somewhere that would have a room available. Too weary in both body and spirit to face carrying her suitcase, Megan locked it into the cottage, taking only her shoulder bag as she set off to walk down the hill.

      When she went back through the gate, however, the small path down to the beach caught her eye.

      Just a look, she told herself. A glimpse into part of her past that wasn’t associated with Josh. If she could feel the sand beneath her feet and close her eyes and breathe in the salty air, maybe she could remember something happier.

      A summer’s day, even. Building sandcastles and collecting shells and pieces of seaweed. Sitting on the damp sand with her bare legs stretched out in front of her, waiting for the thrill of the last wash of a wave to foam around her. Running back to the cottage to show Gran her new treasures.

      Maybe it should have been running into Josh unexpectedly that she should have prepared herself for.

      The dog on the beach was large enough to be quite frightening as he came loping towards Megan with a piece of driftwood clamped between his jaws. In the periphery of her vision, however, Megan could see a woman and children who had to be the dog’s family because the beach was otherwise deserted. Nobody with children would have a vicious dog, would they? Besides, his teeth were occupied with the large piece of driftwood. And his tail was wagging in a very friendly manner.

      ‘Crash!’ The woman called firmly. ‘Come back here.’

      Crash? The name was unusual enough to ring a bell. He’d only been a gangly, half-grown puppy then, of course, but Megan could remember him wearing a big, white ribbon around his neck at a summer beach wedding. Luke and Anna Davenport’s wedding.

      It wasn’t Anna coming towards her now, though.

      ‘I’m so sorry.’ The woman, bundled up warmly in a coat, hat and huge scarf, was very apologetic. ‘He’s a bit too friendly, so he is. But he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

      She had a strong Irish accent and the lilt took Megan immediately into a space she really didn’t want to be. Was everything and everybody here going to make her think instantly of Josh? She took a deep breath and focused on the dog.

      ‘It’s fine,’ Megan said. ‘I don’t mind.’ To prove it, she scratched the dog behind one of his ears, which was easy to do because Crash was leaning on her leg. ‘Isn’t this the Davenports’ dog?’

      ‘Indeed it is. We mind him during the day when they’re both working. The children love him to bits, so they do.’

      The children were half hidden behind folds of the woman’s coat as she held their mittened hands. Megan could see cute hats with ears on them and bright plastic boots. A pink pair with red flowers and a green pair with eyes that made them look like frogs. The owner of the frog boots peered out from the folds of coat.

      ‘Cash naughty,’ a small voice pronounced.

      Crash wagged his tail harder.

      The woman looked down to smile at her charges. ‘Say hello, children.’

      But the children said nothing. Neither did Megan. Her gaze had also dropped and she could see that the children were no bigger than toddlers. That they seemed to be close enough the same size as each other to be twins.

      And … oh, God … the cheeky smile on the little boy’s face had a charm out of all proportion to his age. His eyes were too dark to determine their colour but they were so … alive. His face danced with mischief and Megan could feel the pull of a personality that went past being cute or attractive.

      It was the kind of pull that made it impossible not to get sucked in.

      To fall in love.

      The kind of connection that could be overwhelming. That had the capability of derailing, if not destroying, a life.

      Megan sucked in a deep breath. How ridiculous to be … what, afraid of a child?

      But it was more than that, wasn’t it? Much, much more.

      Her gaze jerked up again and now she could see past the folds of the scarf and a woollen hat pulled low over her forehead. She could see a woman who looked to be well into her sixties but could be younger because those lines suggested a life that had not been easy. Behind the spectacles she wore, Megan could now see the colour of her eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She knew who had inherited that shade of indigo blue.

      ‘Oh, my goodness. You’re Josh’s mother … Claire O’Hara?’

      ‘Indeed I am.’ Claire blinked in surprise. ‘Have we met?’

      ‘Just once. At the hospital. When the twins were still in the intensive care unit. The day before.’

      The gaze Claire O’Hara directed at Megan was intense. And then it turned distinctly wary. ‘Oh … You’re Megan Phillips. The doctor. I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognise you. It was such a terrible time … the day before poor Rebecca’s funeral and …’

      ‘There’s no need to apologise.’ Megan was still caught by the undertone she couldn’t fail to have missed in the older woman’s gaze. Recognition of more than her identity.

      Had Josh filled her in on his star-crossed lover history?

      Unlikely. But this was a small village and St Piran’s hospital grapevine was robust thanks to people who loved to gossip, like that dreadful woman—the ward clerk in the NICU … what was her name? Ruth? No … Rita.

      Oh … Lord. Had Josh’s mother heard about the way they’d met, way back when Megan had been