Second chance summer, p.3
Second Chance Summer, page 3
She tucked her feet up on the bench seat to avoid anything dropping on her toes and tried to message Richie.
‘Yes!’ She almost punched the air when one bar of 3G flickered on her mobile. Thank God Richie was on speed dial. It was Saturday, his day off, and she vaguely remembered him saying he was taking his partner, Jakob, away to celebrate his birthday. Lily made a business decision. She might never have a signal again and, in the circumstances, he wouldn’t mind, surely?
The call went straight to voicemail and Lily swore.
‘Richie. Lily here. Almost at Stark. I do hope it’s better than the nightmare journey I’ve had so far. Waiting for Mr Grumpy Local to take me over to the island now. I’ll call when I get to the hotel and have WiFi. I’ve been making some notes about the new range of plant pots from that maker in Dartmouth – maybe we can speak on Monday about them or have a quick FaceTime? I do hope you got all that? Bye.’
Lily peered at the phone. There was now no signal at all and she’d forgotten to wish him a happy birthday and to have a good weekend with Jakob.
She waved the mobile in the air. Nada. She wanted to climb out onto the quay but her way was barred by crates and boxes. Jeez, they must have enough stuff here to last a fortnight. A chilling realisation dawned. She was due to stay two weeks … but surely she wouldn’t be stuck on one tiny islet for the whole time? There had to be a boat service so she could go shopping and eat out on the other islands?
She didn’t mind taking a break, but she couldn’t be cut off from her business entirely – not with this deal looming. Plus, she’d promised to keep Étienne and her parents regularly updated on how she was.
Right. That was it. The signal would probably be much better if she got off the boat.
As she squeezed between the boxes, she stubbed her toe on a wooden crate and bit back an expletive, silently cursing the scuff on her loafers.
Ignoring the throbbing pain, she clambered off the boat and onto the quayside.
Some of the ferry passengers had decided to wait for the next service on the terrace of a building that displayed a bright blue sign reading Quayside Café. It also had an A-board outside with ‘Closed’ chalked on it.
Oblivious to her presence, Sam was almost hidden by a pile of lobster pots and, she assumed, deep in conversation with Rory.
Lily waved her phone in the air and a bar of signal flickered yet again. She had to be careful because the battery was low but, with a bit of luck, she might be able to call Richie back. She walked up and down the quayside, praying for the magical bars to appear. The drizzle was light but enough to wet her hair and blazer. She hadn’t had time to unpack her waterproof from her case so she’d have to put up with it.
Seeing the people sitting on the café chairs, Lily had a stroke of genius: even though the café was shut, she might be able to piggyback its WiFi. She marched towards it, hoping to find a clue to the password.
The entrance was via a small stone porch, which gave her shelter from the rain and enabled her to read the notices in the doorway. They were mostly about local events; no hint as to the WiFi password.
Her heart sank and she was wondering whether to ask any of the waiting passengers if they knew the code when all of a sudden they rose as one and headed for the quay where a ferry had just pulled in.
Lily was left alone in the porch, peering through the window, in a final desperate bid to spot a WiFi sign inside. She was about to despair when a teenage girl hurtled from somewhere at the back of the café, purple hair flying behind her. She was followed by an older woman wearing a white kaftan.
Neither of them even noticed Lily lurking in the doorway.
‘Sam!’ the teenager shrieked. ‘Wait!’
He emerged from behind the lobster pots and met the two women on the terrace a few feet away from where Lily was standing, unobserved.
‘Don’t go yet!’ the teenager said. ‘Auntie Elspeth says you’ve forgotten the chest!’
Sam heaved a sigh. ‘Thank you, Morven. I hadn’t forgotten.’
‘Really?’ she said sarcastically. ‘Auntie Elspeth says you’re not to leave without it under any circumstances. Oh––’ Her voice rose with excitement. ‘Is she on the actual boat now?’
‘Yes, Morven,’ Sam replied, his voice fraught with anxiety. ‘My guest is waiting for me to take her to the retreat.’ Lily would have laughed at his panicked tone if she hadn’t been so alarmed to hear about his obvious inexperience at caring for guests.
‘Oh my God!’ Morven squealed. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d picked her up yet. What is she like – horrible?’
‘Morven …’ Sam hissed.
‘What? She can’t possibly hear us from here,’ the girl declared.
Er … wrong, thought Lily.
‘It’s not nice to be rude about people you haven’t met,’ the older woman said.
‘Why not? I know she’s that nasty cow from the TV.’
‘Morven! That will do!’ Sam said sharply.
Lily’s stomach turned over. She’d come all this way to escape from stress and here she was, being discussed and abused in public by a stranger.
The older woman tutted loudly. ‘Morven, don’t be so unkind. Sam, I’m glad I caught you.’
‘In the nick of time, Auntie Elspeth, but I have to be going now or we’ll be caught out by the spring low tide. This weather isn’t doing us any favours either.’
‘Well, be careful. The fog could last for days.’ Elspeth shuddered. ‘I don’t like it.’
Lily broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of being trapped in the middle of nowhere for days. That made it more important than ever that she should get a message to Richie.
‘Ooooh!’ Morven cried. ‘The fog … It must be a portent, signifying you oughtn’t to be setting out on this venture. Stark belongs to its ancient guardians, your ancestors.’
‘That isn’t helpful, Morven,’ Sam warned.
‘It’s not a very auspicious start, though,’ Elspeth agreed gloomily.
‘Auntie Elspeth,’ Sam sounded very frustrated, ‘we’ve had this conversation many times before. The only portents I pay any heed to are the ones telling me I need to make a living, to support my family. And as for our ancestors: a tranquil luxury retreat is the best way to honour the island’s history.’
Morven sniggered. ‘Luxury? Like, yeah! Last time I saw it, the paint in the cottages was still wet and the toilets didn’t flush.’
Filled with dismay, Lily shrank further back into the porch. On top of being absolutely knackered and apprehensive about the boat transfer to Stark, the idea of coping with a blocked toilet for days was just too much.
‘It’s all fixed!’ Sam said in exasperation. ‘And I am about to take my valued guest to the island for a wonderful break. So, if you wouldn’t mind untying the boat, I’m leaving now.’
‘Don’t forget this!’ Elspeth thrust a small wooden chest into his arms. ‘You might need it.’
‘Thank you. Now, I must get back to my guest.’
Lily summoned up her courage: she was, after all, a confident businesswoman who could deal with anything.
‘Actually, she’s here.’
She stepped out of the porch and strode forward.
Three jaws dropped in horrified amazement.
‘How nice to meet you,’ she said sweetly to Elspeth alone. ‘Apologies if I took you by surprise but I got off the boat to try and find a mobile signal.’
‘I – er – didn’t see you there,’ Sam muttered. ‘And I’m sorry but we have to go now,’ he added.
‘Because of the fog, so I heard,’ she added smoothly. ‘However, I’d like to call my family and was hoping to pick up some WiFi from this café. Does anyone know the code?’
‘The signal’s always crap in the fog,’ Morven said.
‘We don’t have th––’ Sam muttered, before Elspeth interjected.
‘The code is quayside111, all lower-case,’ she replied pleasantly. ‘It’s my café, you see, my dear.’
‘Oh, thank you so much,’ Lily said, Elspeth climbing even higher in her estimation. ‘It does look lovely. I’ll have to pop over while I’m here on holiday.’
Morven let out a kind of snort, which could have been of contempt or horror – or both.
‘Absolutely, but there’s no time for that now,’ Sam said, suddenly firm again.
‘Hold on!’ Lily waved her mobile in the air as he marched off towards the boat. ‘Can’t you hang on for half a minute while I make a call?’
‘Sorry. No. We might not be able to get to Stark at all if we wait any longer.’
Lily was wondering if that was such a bad thing, considering Bryher had a lovely café with WiFi and at least one civilised person in Elspeth.
‘I should do as Sam says, dear,’ his aunt said. ‘And you can always come over tomorrow.’
‘If the fog clears,’ Morven said with some relish, leaving Lily wondering what she’d done to incite the teenager’s wrath – unless Morven simply hated everyone by default.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Elspeth said. ‘If you go with Sam now.’
With difficulty, Lily wrenched herself away from the lifeline that had been briefly held out to her.
When she reached the boat, Sam put out his hand to help her on board. She had no choice but to accept it before squeezing back between the crates to huddle inside the cabin. Her toe had started to throb inside her scratched loafer.
Sam took the wheel and turned back to face her.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘My aunt is into local folklore and rather superstitious, and Morven … well, she just likes to wind people up.’ He attempted a smile that fizzled out as fast as a dud sparkler. ‘We’ll soon be at Stark.’
After a tentative pull away from the quay through waters that seemed barely deep enough to cover the propellor, he opened the throttle and Lily fell back against her seat, wondering how the hell they weren’t going to end up impaled on the pillars of sharp rock emerging from the sea all around. She also kept wondering what on earth could be in that wooden chest … a Ouija board? Magic charms and potions? The mummified carcass of a toad?
Soon, two low hills, almost twins of each other, rose out of the mist, reminding Lily bizarrely of a pair of boobs. She couldn’t help but snort.
‘What’s up now?’ Sam twisted round again, making Lily wish he’d keep his eyes on the rocks.
‘Nothing, only the shape of the island. It looks …’ Like a giant cleavage emerging from the sea, she thought, but didn’t dare say.
To her surprise, he nodded. ‘Yeah, it does. Everyone thinks the same. Even back in the day, travellers wrote about it. Quite crudely, some of them.’
‘Glad it’s not just me …’ Lily said as the busty outline loomed closer.
Finally, a brief smile lit his face. ‘It’s not just you, I promise. OK, brace yourself. We’re here.’
CHAPTER THREE
Now, Sam really did have to be kidding her. All Lily could see was a tangle of tooth-like rocks emerging from the gloom.
The engine note died to a whisper and the boat glided as if through a portal, stopping very precisely alongside a tiny stone jetty. Sam jumped onto the quay and coiled the rope around a mooring post, tying it off with a knot so complicated, it would surely be impossible ever to undo.
He jumped back on board. ‘I’ll just clear some of these out of your way,’ he said, hurriedly landing the boxes and bags that covered the bottom of the boat.
While he nipped deftly from bobbing deck to jetty and back, Lily stared out at the quayside with a creeping sense of foreboding. The mist and the mysterious wooden chest all added to the eerie atmosphere and a feeling of gloom settled on her. Coming to this retreat now seemed like a very bad idea and she wished she could beam herself home.
Still, a nice hot soak and a decent dinner would surely do wonders for her mood. She might watch a new movie on Netflix. By Monday she’d be refreshed and might even touch base with Richie just to double-check that the team were totally happy about dealing with any issues that arose while she was away.
‘OK. You can get off now,’ Sam told her. ‘Be careful, though.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Lily said, making her way to the bow, ready to step across. The boat rocked.
‘No, wait! Let me give you a hand.’ Without allowing a second for her to protest, Sam grasped her hand and helped her from the deck to the jetty.
‘Thanks,’ she muttered, relieved to be on solid ground again. After twelve hours of travelling, she also felt a little light-headed.
Sam plucked her bags from the cabin. ‘I’ll come back for the supplies after I’ve shown you to your cottage.’
Lily cast her eye over the pile of goods on the jetty. ‘Is there anyone who can help you move that lot?’
He frowned. ‘Only me – I run this place.’
Lily felt her jaw drop. ‘Just you? You mean, you run it on your own?’
‘Well, no. That’s not strictly true. My niece Morven – who you just met on Bryher – is going to lend a hand with the changeovers when she can and Auntie Elspeth will step in too, if I need her. At least, that’s the plan.’
Lily was struck dumb for a few seconds as the pieces of the jigsaw slotted into place and formed an alarming picture. Not finished … soft opening … amazingly cheap … available at short notice.
‘I’m your guinea pig, aren’t I?’ she said, her spirits plummeting towards rock bottom.
‘Guinea pig? No, of course not. Please come this way. Your cottage is only a short walk from here.’ He picked up her bags and set off up a path as rain began to fall heavily.
Determined not to be put off, Lily trotted behind. ‘I’m your first guest, though?’
‘One of the first, yes.’
‘Who else is here, then?’ she said, stopping halfway up the path.
Sam was forced to come to a halt. ‘I can’t tell you that. It’s confidential.’
‘Really? I don’t think N. O. Body is going to complain about you telling me.’
‘Reception is up here,’ he said brightly, forging off towards a stone building, just visible through the drizzle. ‘There’s a spot of mizzle, so you might need this.’ He offered her a green golf umbrella, bearing the logo of the retreat. ‘Of course, it would have been a good idea to prepare yourself for the elements …’
‘And if you’d come prepared to meet your first guest – it might have been an even better one!’
Judging by his open-mouthed expression, Lily’s riposte had hit home.
‘Yes, well, er–– We’ll be inside soon.’
He offered the umbrella again and she took it but didn’t unfurl it. The mood she was in, she might have other ideas for it. Lily stomped after him, simmering with annoyance at his rudeness.
Ten seconds later he stopped outside a stone building with a wooden porch. Although plain, it did seem at least to have a roof, which was more than Lily had been expecting after the gardener’s remarks. A wooden sign lay on the ground outside.
‘This is it,’ said Sam. ‘Sorry I didn’t have time to fix the sign. Welcome to the reception hub of Stark Island Retreat.’
‘And spa,’ Lily said, huffing. ‘It did mention a spa on the website.’
‘Did it?’ He seemed puzzled. ‘Morven must have added that. There will be a small spa at some point,’ he elaborated, waving his hand airily towards the shrouded coastline. ‘In the meantime, there’s that big bubbly thing all around us.’
‘You mean the sea?’ Lily said, hoping he was joking. ‘And what about the wellness retreat? My assistant definitely said there was a “wellness retreat”.’
‘Step out of your door and look up at the sky.’
‘I am. It’s chucking it down.’ Exhaustion and disappointment finally overwhelmed her. ‘So, let me get this straight. You’ve no spa, no staff and I’m the first and only guest.’
Sam looked at the ground because he could barely meet her eyes. ‘Look, I made it clear to your PA that the retreat is on a soft opening. Actually, I wasn’t going to accept any guests yet but Richie insisted you were desperate. He said you needed to get away from it all, and I quote: “no calls, no hassle, complete tranquillity and privacy”. I felt sorry for you so – against my better judgement, if I’m honest – I agreed. I’m sorry if you were expecting Champneys.’
‘Firstly, there’s no need to feel sorry for me,’ Lily said, hardly able to believe what she was seeing and hearing. ‘Secondly, I wasn’t expecting Champneys, but I was hoping for a boutique retreat in a stunning location with personal service. You do know you’re breaking the Advertising Standards Code? And that you’ll never recover from the crappy reviews on every travel site when visitors get here and find your website doesn’t live up to the reality of HMP Back of Beyond!’
‘Back of Beyond this may be, but a prison it is not!’ Sam shot back. ‘Maybe some aspects of the place don’t live up to the website as yet, but as for a stunning location and personal service, you’ll definitely get that.’ His eyes held a fiery challenge.
Lily glanced around in despair. She was a whisker away from bursting into tears again. This so wasn’t her. She was truly desperate for a break, but here? ‘I suppose the next thing you’re going to tell me is that there’s no cottage?’ she said. ‘That I have to build my own from driftwood? Bathe in a rockpool to wash? Skin a rabbit with my bare hands for food?’ She laughed but Sam wasn’t smiling back. ‘Frankly, I’d rather go camping on a traffic roundabout on the North Circular.’
Her mouth snapped shut. Sam said nothing. He seemed at a loss for words and Lily felt uncomfortable – and, suddenly, a bit guilty.
The cloud was now so thick and the rain so heavy that she couldn’t even make out the other cottages. She and Sam might have been the only two people on the planet, might have been anywhere on the planet. Somewhere in the distance, a foghorn sounded.
Sam gazed through the mist towards the sea. ‘That’s the Bishop,’ he said, almost reverently, before continuing in a more conciliatory tone: ‘Look, I’m sorry – again – that you’re so disappointed. I’m sure this weather isn’t helping. However, you are going to stay in one of the most exclusive locations in Britain – in the world, in fact. What’s more, you’re the first person to spend the night here in two hundred years.’
