Fully Booked – Part 2. Cressida McLaughlin

      Within two seconds the kitten appeared, his front paws clawing into the rug to pull himself out from his hiding space. He purred loudly, his eyes shut in contentment as he wound himself around her, as if to prove that he was the loveliest and most well-behaved cat in the world.

      ‘You little terror,’ she said, and then to her guests: ‘I’m sorry to have caused you so much upset.’

      Catriona knelt next to her and stroked Eclipse. ‘You haven’t, honestly. I was just worried he’d be stuck under there for ever, and I’m so sorry about the wall.’

      ‘Please don’t be,’ Robin urged. ‘I can have that patched up in no time. Don’t feel bad about my cat’s terrible behaviour. I’ll take him downstairs before he can cause any more damage.’ She lifted Eclipse into her arms and he went limp, looking up at her adoringly. ‘What a suck-up. Let me fix you afternoon tea to make up for this, I’ve bought some fresh cream cakes that I shouldn’t eat all by myself.’

      Mrs Barker sighed. ‘It sounds lovely, but I’ve got to go and retrieve my husband. I left him talking to a local fisherman on the beach an hour ago, and we’re meant to be walking into town this evening.’

      ‘I’ll have a cake,’ Catriona said. ‘I must have used up a few hundred calories wiggling backwards and forwards under the bed.’

      Robin took Eclipse downstairs and was arranging the cakes on a plate when her phone buzzed with a message from Molly: Will is going to love it here. Debrief soon. Xx

      Robin’s stomach flipped over. Will Nightingale had turned up, bedraggled and looking for shelter, on Robin’s doorstep the night before. She’d discovered that he was the nephew of Tabitha, who had lived in number four Goldcrest Road, the house next to hers, until her death the year before. With Will requesting a room, she’d been forced to break the seal on her most special room, Starcross, and let him and his adorable Cavapoo, Darcy, stay in it. As soon as she’d mentioned him to Molly earlier that day, her friend had come up with a plan to convince Will not to sell his aunt’s house, surreptitiously showing him how wonderful Campion Bay was so he’d never want to leave. Molly had given her plan the ridiculous name Campaign Tawtaw, and from her text Robin thought her friend must have already started to put that plan into action.

      She’d known Will for less than a day, and yet in that time Robin had offered to help him sort through his aunt’s house, had gone above and beyond the role of fledgeling guesthouse owner, and had – if she was being perfectly honest with herself – spent rather a lot of time thinking about the man with the toffee-coloured hair and startlingly green eyes.

      Because of this, she was uncomfortable that Molly wanted to go behind his back to try to convince him not to sell. She would prefer him to stay, but felt that it made sense to tell him outright what was going on.

      And if she was a part of her friend’s plan, didn’t that mean that she, too, was going behind Tim’s back? Tim Lewis had been her childhood sweetheart growing up in Campion Bay and, since her return, had begun to show a renewed interested in her, despite the inauspicious way their relationship had ended. He was sniffing around number four Goldcrest Road with his property-developer mindset, which was why Molly had suggested getting Will inadvertently on their side, playing Tim at his own ruthless game.

      She tapped out a reply to her friend. What are you doing? Don’t be too obvious. She shouldn’t be encouraging Molly at all – she should tell her that she wasn’t going to have any part of it. But Molly was her closest friend, and she didn’t want to risk upsetting their friendship. She was also concerned that if she told Will about Tim’s plans for his aunt’s house, he might be encouraged to take him up on whatever he was offering, especially after seeing the state of the house for herself earlier that day. Shoving her phone back in her trouser pocket she took a tray of cakes and tea to Neil and Catriona.

      Once her guests had all returned in a flurry of activity and then left again for their various evening entertainments, Robin put her dinner in the oven and sat on the stool in front of the old upright piano in Sea Shanty. She’d had it tuned, the dust on the keys removed, the wood polished until it gleamed. She had hardly played since she’d been back in Campion Bay, and not at all when she’d lived in London, so to say she was rusty was an understatement.

      She pressed middle C, let the sound echo out in the quiet room, and then pressed D. At least with a piano the individual notes sounded good even if you didn’t know what you were doing. With a wind instrument, the hesitation came out with each breath. She thought back to the tunes she had once known off by heart: ‘Chopsticks’, ‘The Entertainer’, and the Beverly Hills Cop theme she’d learnt from a boy at primary school.

      The memories seemed to have stayed in her fingers, if not her head, and while she was far from note-perfect, she found that the sound she was making wasn’t awful. Eclipse didn’t move from his position on the sofa, which she took as a good sign, and it was only when the smoke alarm went off that she realised she’d played through the timer.

      ‘Shit!’ She ran into the kitchen, which was now impersonating a horror film set, the smoke thick and acrid. Shoving on the oven glove, she took out what was left of her chicken Kiev and put it on the thermo-mat. It was a shrivelled, sizzling black lump, the potatoes boiled dry and foul-smelling in their saucepan. She flapped at the smoke alarm to shut it up, left the ruined food to cool down and began grating some cheddar.

      ‘Bonfires usually take place outside, you know.’

      Robin jumped and turned to see Will standing in the doorway. She had taken him a cup of tea that morning, while he was trying to sort out the leak in Tabitha’s house that had resulted in him appearing on her doorstep in the first place. He had looked messy then, but now he was a complete wreck. His T-shirt’s original colour was unguessable, his face was a mixture of grime and sweat, and his hair was flattened and dusty. But his green eyes shone out at her, despite his obvious weariness.

      ‘How many rounds did you go with the house?’ she asked. ‘Not that it matters, you clearly lost.’

      Will gave her a triumphant smile. ‘I won, actually. The plumbing is fixed for now, though at some point I’ll need to get a professional to take a look at it. And I’ve cleared one of the rooms to an acceptable level. Six bin bags and a year’s worth of dirt later, my first day’s work is done. And it wouldn’t have gone nearly so smoothly without refreshment breaks, so thank you.’

      ‘You’re welcome,’ she said. ‘It sounds like you’ve made lots of progress. Though I, uhm …’ she gestured towards him ‘… not sure about the new look.’ She didn’t want to be rude, but she’d spent a lot of time getting her guesthouse up to a luxurious standard, and she didn’t know how much of the grime on his clothes was indelible grease.

      He glanced down and then looked at her, aghast. ‘God, I’m so sorry. How about I leave these clothes next door? I haven’t tried the shower yet, though, so if I could …’ He pointed in the vague direction of Starcross.

      ‘Of course,’ Robin said hurriedly. ‘And you don’t have to leave your clothes next door. But if you could maybe get changed in here?’ She gestured to the kitchen. ‘I can find you a robe, I’m sure.’

      ‘Oh. No problem.’ He moved carefully into the kitchen, passing her, and Robin set off down the hall, abandoning her half-grated cheese. The door to her bedroom was opposite the door into Sea Shanty. She stood inside and looked frantically around for the robe she’d promised him, her eyes falling on the short, silk summer dressing gown, navy with silvery stars covering it, hanging on the wardrobe door.

      ‘Shit.’

      There were towelling robes in all of the bedrooms, but that would mean going up to Starcross. She hurried back into the hall, trying to remember if there was a spare in Sea Shanty that she could give to Will, and almost ran straight into him. He was heading towards the stairs, carrying his clothes in a bundle, and she found herself very close to his broad chest. Her eyes followed it down, to his toned stomach and then a hint of red boxers behind the clothes and boots in his arms.

      ‘Sorry!’