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finish loading their van and drive away so she could cross the road and give it one final, heartfelt shot.

      Robin closed her eyes. She heard a door slam further up the street, and the sound of a loud, powerful engine approach and then die. When she looked up, she saw that the car was a black Audi, and it was parking outside the guesthouse. She jolted, almost spilling her coffee. A familiar figure climbed out. His tousled blond hair and faded red shirt struck the right balance between casual and sophisticated, but Tim’s usually relaxed face was scowling. Robin felt her chest tighten as she watched him lock the car and bound up the front stairs of number four.

      ‘No no no,’ she said to herself. ‘This can’t be happening.’

      Last night had not gone the way Tim had planned. The champagne he’d ordered to toast the success of the open mic event and the rekindling of their relationship had barely been touched. She’d told him flat out that, even if she didn’t have reservations about getting back with him, there was nobody in her thoughts now except Will. Tim’s immediate response was disbelief, which then turned to angry resignation. She’d hoped, once he’d had time to digest it, that he would understand. Theirs had been a childhood romance; it had ended when he cheated on her after she left to go to university, but with hindsight she realised they probably would have outgrown each other in any case.

      She’d hoped he cared about her enough to accept her decision. Now, she wondered if she had been wrong, and the mountain she was going to have to climb to regain Will’s trust was about to be made much more difficult by the actions of her ex-boyfriend, suffering from wounded pride.

      ‘I’ve just got to nip over the road and do something,’ she called to Darren and Fred.

      ‘We’ll only be another five minutes, love, and we need you to sign off the paperwork.’

      ‘But I have to—’

      ‘What is the meaning of this?’ asked an angry voice, and Robin spun to find Coral Harris, landlady of the Seaview Hotel, standing in front of her. The old woman was wearing an overly frilly lavender dressing gown pulled tightly around her slender frame, and matching fluffy slippers. Her narrow face was pinched and angry, and the effect, along with the soft fabrics and the pastel colouring, was disconcerting.

      ‘The meaning of what?’ Robin asked, her eyes drifting back to the houses. Tim was no longer standing on the doorstep. Bile churned in her stomach.

      ‘All this banging. So early in the morning. So early!’ she repeated, directing her words towards Darren and Fred this time.

      Fred shrugged, but Darren had the grace to look contrite. ‘Sorry, lady,’ he said, ‘but it’s not easy to be quiet when you’re working with steel.’

      ‘I’m sure it could be quieter than this. I enjoyed your entertainment, Robin, but this has tainted it for me. What about my guests? What about yours?’

      ‘I know,’ Robin said sincerely, touched that Mrs Harris had taken the time to compliment her on the event, even if it was in the middle of a complaint. ‘And I am sorry. But we needed to get the stage off the promenade as soon as possible, and this seemed a better time than late last night.’ She shrugged, her mind full of what Tim might be discussing with Will at that very moment.

      She remembered saying to him last night: If Will decides to sell the house and leave Campion Bay for good, before I’ve told him how I really feel, I couldn’t bear it. She had hoped that once Tim had got over the initial hurt, they could clear the air and focus on being friends. But Tim was also a property developer, he’d had his eye on number four Goldcrest Road for a while, and if she’d been thinking clearly then she would have realised that it was an unwise thing to say to a calculating, business-minded man she’d rejected only minutes before.

      ‘I do think something else could have been arranged,’ Mrs Harris continued, oblivious to Robin’s wandering thoughts. ‘As guesthouse owners, we should be thinking of our clients before anything else, and this is surely not the best way for them to start their weekend.’

      Robin swallowed. ‘I completely understand. But it’s only one day, and hopefully most of them got to enjoy the free entertainment.’

      ‘It’s not right.’ Mrs Harris huffed. ‘Not right at all.’

      ‘We’re almost done,’ Darren said. ‘We’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy.’ He gave her a wide, cheerful grin and Robin watched as Mrs Harris softened.

      ‘I suppose if it’s nearly over then I have no more grounds for complaint. But if you do any more of these,’ she said, waggling a schoolmistress-style finger at Robin, ‘then you need to think about logistics. Didn’t you run an events management company before all this?’

      ‘I did,’ Robin admitted. ‘But the timescales were so short this time. Lorna was only here for a fortnight.’

      ‘Hmm. Next time.’ She patted Robin’s shoulder and strode off down the promenade in her lavender nightwear.

      Robin watched her go, bewildered by the encounter. She wiped her palms down her shorts and looked for any glimmers of movement in the windows of number four. She imagined Tim and Will in the large kitchen, free from the dust and grime it had been covered in the last time she had seen it, their postures stiff over cups of instant coffee.

      ‘Did you say you were nearly done?’ she asked Darren with forced brightness.

      ‘We’re on the last bit …’ He worked at a joint with the electric screwdriver, and Robin glanced up to see Ashley and Roxy waving at her. She sighed, hoping they were just passing, and waved back.

      ‘Robin!’ Ashley gave her a brief hug, bending his tall frame towards her. ‘What a brilliant night.’

      ‘Your teashop was heaving from start to finish,’ Robin said. ‘I heard so many compliments.’

      ‘I can’t remember ever being as busy as that,’ Roxy added, her dark eyes wide. ‘I’m glad we hired extra staff for the evening.’

      ‘But sadly we couldn’t extend the teashop’s square footage,’ Ashley said, laughing. ‘If the pavement was wider, we’d invest in some more outdoor chairs and tables.’

      ‘Are you going to do any more events?’ Roxy asked. ‘It was such a good night, and not only for business. There was so much talent on that stage – the sound carried into the teashop – and Lorna was wonderful, a real star.’

      ‘I know,’ Robin said. ‘She’s checking out later today, and I’m going to miss her. To start with, I barely knew she was in the guesthouse she was so quiet, but the last ten days she’s filled the place with laughter and fun – not to mention music – so it’s going to feel strange without her.’

      ‘Some people are like that, aren’t they?’ Ashley said.

      Robin nodded. ‘And it seems to be the guests who stay in Starcross, for some reason. Though there have been only two so far.’

      ‘Maybe there’s something magical about that room?’ Roxy clapped her hands together, but her husband rolled his eyes.

      ‘Or they’re the two people who have stayed the longest, so they’ve made more of an impression. Will’s back at his aunt Tabitha’s house now, isn’t he? Do you know if he’s planning on staying in Campion Bay?’

      The couple looked slightly anxious, and Robin wondered how worried they were about the rumours of what Tim would do if he bought the property. She knew, now, that their kindness towards Will, bringing him cupcakes and helping him bag up rubbish on his first day working in his aunt’s house, had been sincere, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t also concerned about the seafront changing. Things moved on – it was only natural that they should – but Goldcrest Road didn’t need an upgrade. It was picture-perfect.

      ‘I don’t know,’ Robin said quietly.

      She felt guilty. If Tim was in there, making a deal with Will at that very moment,

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