Sam smiled at her. ‘Maybe it’s going to take teamwork to discover what this secret is.’
‘Teamwork, I like the sound of that.’ Verity looked around. ‘I still can’t get over the fact that she’s been here. In her stories this cottage was beautiful and so was Cliff Top Cottage. I have to admit that I was quite surprised by the real Cliff Top Cottage, as it wasn’t how Granny described it at all.’
‘Yeah, Pete has really let it go.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘I wouldn’t like to guess at the reasons for anything that man does.’
The words were said with hostility. ‘It sounds like you aren’t a fan of Pete’s?’ she probed.
‘Let’s just say I’m still waiting for the truth to come out.’
‘About?’
Sam lay the book and postcard on the coffee table and picked up his mug of tea. He clearly wasn’t about to share any more of his thoughts on the matter. An awkward silence filled the room.
‘Well, at least this cottage lived up to my expectations,’ she babbled. ‘I can’t believe I’m sitting here.’
‘You’re very lucky to be sitting here after your latest escapade.’
Just at that moment Sam’s phone rang.
‘That was Nathan,’ he said a moment later, after hanging up. ‘He’s already towed Hetty up to the garage, and will assess the damage later on this afternoon. For now, I need to get back to the coastguard’s hut. Even though it’s safe to cross the causeway, you still get the odd swimmer stranded when they decide to brave the cold water and get cramp. It’s usually to impress a woman, and the swimmers are usually naked.’
‘Is that what you tried to do yesterday?’
‘I had my boxers on,’ he replied with a wicked glint in his eye.
‘But I do think you were trying to impress me.’ She gave him a tiny smirk.
Sam stood up and pointed towards the kitchen. ‘Jimmy’s asleep in his crate. Help yourself to a shower. I’m sure you know where that is.’
She pointed through the door to the stairs.
‘If you decide to make the ferry to Amsterdam, there’s a taxi number on the corkboard in the kitchen, and if you decide you’re staying and want to catch up on sleep, the bedroom is?—’
‘Through there.’ Verity pointed. ‘Or there’s two upstairs. I should have pretended I was psychic, shouldn’t I?’ She laughed.
Sam shook his head in jest. ‘If you do decide you’re off on your travels’—he took a key off his keyring—‘lock the door behind you and leave the key under the mat. If you don’t go, I’ll see you later.’
They looked at each other for a moment.
‘Thanks for rescuing me.’
‘You’re welcome but I really have to go.’ Sam edged backwards towards the door. He gave her one last smile before he shut the door behind him. Two seconds later it opened again. ‘And if you go you’d better leave me some contact details. You’ll need an update on the van and we can discuss the mystery of the postcard.’
‘And here was me thinking you wanted my phone number, just because.’
‘Goodbye, Verity Callaway.’ The front shut again but this time it didn’t reopen. Verity heard the car engine start and the gravel crunched under the tyres as it pulled away from the cottage.
With Ava very much on her mind, she located the bathroom and was relieved to strip off her wet clothes. Climbing into the shower, she welcomed the warm water. She knew she wasn’t going to make the ferry to Amsterdam and a tiny part of her was quite happy about that, despite the disastrous consequences of her actions. But there was also a part of her that wasn’t looking forward to telling Ava, because she didn’t yet know whether the garage could fix the van, and there was a strong likelihood that they couldn’t – which would mean they had no travelling van to live and sleep in for their adventure together.
Ten minutes later, feeling clean and refreshed, Verity dried herself whilst taking a nosey around the bathroom. Sam had impeccable taste in grooming products and aftershaves, which were all lined up on a bathroom shelf. Squirting a tiny amount of aftershave into the air, Verity briefly closed her eyes and took in the aroma. That one was definitely Sam Wilson’s signature scent; she recognised it immediately.
Verity got changed into the T-shirt and joggers, and the oversized sweatshirt was cosy as she pulled the sleeves down over her arms. She wandered back into the living room, eager to explore the rest of the cottage.
Slowly opening the kitchen door, she peered in. Jimmy was still fast asleep in his crate with a blanket draped over the top of it. There was the racing-green Aga that Granny had talked about and the inglenook with the wood burner. The farmhouse table was positioned in the middle of the room. Everywhere was spick and span.
