Do Not Disturb – Part 3. Cressida McLaughlin

      

      The Once in a Blue Moon Guesthouse

      Part 3

      Do Not Disturb

      CRESSIDA MCLAUGHLIN

       Copyright

       Harper

      An imprint of HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd

      The News Building

      1 London Bridge Street

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       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain by Harper 2017

      Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2017

      Cover layout design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2017

      Cover illustration © Alice Stevenson

      Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Ebook Edition © March 2017

      ISBN: 9780008219260

      Version: 2017-03-03

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Keep Reading …

      

       About the Author

      

       Also by Cressida McLaughlin

      

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      Robin Brennan opened the oven door and, waiting for a waft of steam to disperse, took a second batch of moon-shaped chocolate-chip cookies out and slid them on to the cooling rack. She stared at them, her hands on her hips. The cookies, once they were cold, would go in the heavily stoppered glass jars she had bought at a gift shop in the centre of Campion Bay, and would sit on the landing next to a sign that said Midnight cookies; please help yourself.

      Running a successful guesthouse, her mum Sylvie had written in The Bible, the guesthouse manual she had given to Robin when she and Robin’s dad had moved to France the previous month, is all about attention to detail. That’s what guests will notice, that’s what will complete their stay and make them want to come back again and again.

      Robin hoped the cookies would be popular with her guests, but wasn’t convinced they would complete anyone’s stay. She had thought that making them, mixing the dough and chunking chocolate up into irregular chips, using the cutter to create moon shapes, would take her mind off what had happened the day before. So far, however, it had failed.

      She had been running the Campion Bay Guesthouse for two weeks. It was her third Monday, and she was confident that, for most of her guests, the experience of staying had been a good one. But there was one guest – and Robin wasn’t sure he was even a guest any more – with whom she’d managed to get it spectacularly wrong. She started tidying up the kitchen, putting the cooking implements in the dishwasher while her kitten, Eclipse, watched her from the doorway.

      Will Nightingale had arrived in Campion Bay the day Robin had opened the doors of her newly refurbished guesthouse. He was the nephew of Tabitha Thomas, who had lived in the house next door, number four Goldcrest Road, until her death the year before. Will had made the journey from London to sort through his aunt’s possessions and decide what to do with the house, and had come to Robin for shelter after discovering that Tabitha’s house was uninhabitable; a home for mice and spiders rather than people.

      Putting him up in her most precious room, Starcross, Robin had liked the tall, green-eyed man instantly, his easy manner and directness compelling her to offer to help him with the house clear-out. They had been getting to know each other; she had taken him on a tour of Campion Bay the previous day, and had found herself in his arms, kissing him, as the rain fell. The memory made Robin shiver; the feel of his lips on hers, his strong arms holding her, had felt powerful and magical and right, even though she hadn’t known him long.

      But then everything had gone wrong.

      Once she had cleaned the counters, Robin poured herself a glass of water and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. Eclipse jumped immediately on to her lap, his tail tickling her nose as he circled and circled on her thighs, trying to find the most comfortable position. Robin scrolled to the messages in her phone, rereading the text her friend Molly had sent her, the one that she’d stupidly asked Will to read aloud. It was like picking a scab, it was painful and the result was inevitable, but she couldn’t help it.

      Number four Goldcrest Road was a focus of interest in Campion Bay. The seafront houses were desirable properties, spacious and elegant with beautiful views. Robin’s childhood sweetheart, Tim Lewis, now a successful property developer, had been sniffing around Tabitha’s house with a view to converting it into swish apartments. The other residents of the road – her friend Molly, Mrs Harris who owned the Seaview Hotel, Ashley and Roxy at the Campion Bay Teashop – were opposed to such a development, and once Will had arrived, Molly had come up with the idea of a charm