Do Not Disturb – Part 3. Cressida McLaughlin

all that to me?’

      Robin winced at the anger in his voice, unsure which thing to refute first. She wanted to move her foot, to get comfortable – her thigh was beginning to ache – but she didn’t want to give him the opportunity to close the door before she’d said all she needed to.

      ‘I was wrong about so many things,’ she said. ‘I’ve spoken to Molly and there was no campaign. I thought she’d organised one – I thought she’d asked Ashley and Stefano to make you feel welcome, but she didn’t. You were a new face on the road, Tabitha’s nephew, and they were just being neighbourly. They did those things of their own accord.’

      A flicker of confusion passed across his features. He looked so weary, and Robin couldn’t imagine that, even if he hadn’t been cross with her, he would have had a comfortable night in Tabitha’s house. From what she could see of the hall it was still so disorganised, so full of dust.

      ‘So it turns out you were a one-woman publicity campaign? Doing it all by yourself, thinking you were part of something the whole street was involved in?’

      ‘No!’ she said. ‘That’s not it at all! I didn’t like Molly’s idea. I wouldn’t have been involved even if it had been real. I wanted to help you, to get to know you. What happened yesterday, I had wanted … that, I had wanted to spend time with you. I’ve loved your company, being with you, from the beginning. It wasn’t anything to do with Tim or the house.’

      He shook his head quickly and ran a hand over his stubble. She heard the familiar sound of paws on floorboards and Darcy appeared, her head peering round Will’s legs. The Cavapoo yelped at Robin and bounded forward, her body vibrating with happiness. Robin stroked the dog, feeling instantly soothed by her unconditional affection. She wondered if Will would object, but he barely seemed to notice.

      ‘How am I meant to believe that, after what you told me yesterday?’ he asked.

      ‘I got it wrong, Will. I thought there was a campaign, I thought that was really happening, and I didn’t like it but I – I didn’t want to tell you; I didn’t want you to feel that you weren’t welcome, that the friendship offered to you was cynical, calculating.’

      She glanced behind her as footsteps and voices echoed into the dusk, people passing on their way to the town centre. Will looked over her shoulder and Robin wondered for a second if he was going to invite her in, but he didn’t.

      ‘So,’ he said, his eyes creasing at the edges. ‘You thought there was a campaign, but there wasn’t? But you didn’t tell me what you thought was going on, or that your childhood sweetheart had designs on my aunt’s house, and had been sniffing around it even before I arrived? You knew all this, and you kept it from me while I confided in you about my dad, about Tabitha’s past. You reeled me in, making me trust you, while all the time you were hiding things from me, being loyal to your ex, who – let’s face it – doesn’t seem to be fully out of the picture. Is that about right?’

      ‘No, Will! Tim and I—’

      ‘Have you been playing us off against each other while you try to decide who you want next door?’

      ‘That couldn’t be further from the truth!’ She felt panic well up inside her, tried to remember Molly’s words, the ones she had used to explain the simple misunderstanding. ‘Nothing I’ve done has been false. I care about you. Tim and I – it’s over! It has been for well over a decade.’

      He stared at her, his green eyes narrowed and, somehow, duller, while Darcy sat silently next to him. Robin was struck all over again by how much she cared about them both, despite their short acquaintance. She couldn’t lose them.

      ‘You lied to me, Robin,’ he said. His voice was quieter, defeated rather than angry. ‘You kept Tim’s plans from me, and you believed that your friends were tricking me into staying. It doesn’t matter that they weren’t – you didn’t tell me about it. You’ve been keeping me in the dark about everything, and I—’ His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. ‘I can’t trust you. Please.’ He gestured towards her foot, and Robin, her hope fading at his last words, stepped back. Her leg had gone dead, the pins and needles catching her off balance, and she put a hand on the wall to steady herself.

      ‘I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,’ she said, as he started to close the door. ‘At least come back to Starcross – you can’t be getting any sleep staying here. Will, I—’ But it was too late, and she found herself speaking to the black paint of Tabitha’s front door. She listened to the footsteps receding inside and then, with a stomach that felt like it was full of iced water, turned away from number four and went back to the guesthouse.

      Molly appeared ten minutes after Robin had texted her, a bottle in her hand. Robin poured two glasses of wine and handed one to her friend. Eclipse bounded on to her lap with springlike dexterity and an adorable chirrup, and Robin buried her face in his fur, breathing in his clean, kittenish smell.

      ‘So what did he say?’ Molly asked, slipping off her pumps and tucking her feet beneath her.

      Robin wrapped her hands round the bowl of her glass. ‘I tried to explain, to make it clear that it was a misunderstanding – just like you’d said. It sounded so innocuous the way you put it.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘He says he can’t trust me any more. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t trust me either.’

      Molly leaned forward. ‘What exactly did he say? Tell me from the beginning.’

      Robin recounted their conversation, the fact that Will hadn’t invited her inside, so it had played out on the doorstep, the way he had seemed at first angry and then defeated, and how even the admission that there had been no campaign, that the acts of kindness had been genuine, hadn’t lifted his spirits. When she’d finished, she looked up at Molly, waiting for the verdict. She hoped her friend could find some glimmer of hope, because Robin was struggling to.

      Molly drummed her fingers against her lips. ‘Do you know what I think it is?’ she said. ‘I think it’s more that you didn’t tell him about Tim. You’d worked on Tabitha’s house with him, and hadn’t explained what Tim was up to, even after Tim had been round to see you both. It’s Will’s house now, and he felt that you should have been honest about what Campion Bay Property was planning – even if you didn’t know the details. Plus, it’s Tim, isn’t it?’

      ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Robin sipped her wine, but it tasted too acidic. She didn’t want alcohol: she wanted a mug of hot chocolate with squirty cream and some of her home-baked midnight cookies.

      ‘I don’t think it helps that Tim is your ex. Whatever Will’s feeling about what’s happened, it’s a lot more complicated because he cares about you, Robin. As I said before, he wouldn’t be so bothered if you were just another resident of Goldcrest Road. It’s only been a couple of weeks. He could wipe the slate clean. But he can’t do that with you, because so much has already happened.

      ‘He’s developed feelings, and then suddenly he finds out that you’ve been holding things back from him, the biggest of which is to do with your handsome, successful ex-boyfriend. I’m guessing,’ Molly said, leaning forward and rubbing Eclipse’s paws, ‘he’s a big bundle of confusion, hurt, attraction and jealousy, and he needs to wait for it all to settle so he can figure out which of those emotions rises to the top. I’m confident it will be attraction.’

      Robin thought of the way Will had suggested Tim wasn’t fully out of the picture, the bitterness in his voice as he’d accused her of playing them off against each other. What Molly said made a lot of sense. ‘You think so?’

      Molly nodded determinedly. ‘I do.’

      Robin sat back on the sofa, her nerves settling slightly. ‘He looked so tired, Molly. It can’t be comfortable staying at Tabitha’s house with the dirt and the cobwebs. I don’t even know if there’s a bed in a good enough state for him to sleep in.’

      ‘He’s