Originally, Jasmine had been recommended workmen from the kitchen and bathroom suppliers, but they’d unfortunately let her down; their current job had gone ‘belly up’ and they were way behind schedule. Jasmine, not particularly warming to the description of their workmanship, had tactfully withdrawn, stating she’d find someone else. Now that both rooms were empty shells, ready to be fitted, she badly needed someone reliable and trustworthy to do it.
Again, from chatting to the locals yesterday, Jasmine had learnt that her very own next-door neighbour was in fact the man, or indeed the contact. It was amazing what a shopkeeper could inform you of, she had thought whilst walking back from the mini supermarket. Of course, she knew Robin was a property developer, but would he be interested or have the time to help her? He was busy working on his own cottage. When she’d voiced this to Sam, he seemed positive.
‘I think he would help you, Jas, look how he offered the use of his skip. It’s worth asking him,’ he said. Jasmine chewed her lip in contemplation and, sensing her unease, Sam had quickly offered, ‘Do you want me to have a word for you?’
‘No. I’ll do it thanks,’ she answered decisively.
Quickly brushing her hair and climbing out of dusty overalls, Jasmine made her way next door. The back door was slightly ajar, so she knocked and tentatively poked her head round it. Nobody was there, but the sound of loud hammering in the hallway told her the cottage was occupied. Deciding to venture further in, she walked through the entryway and stood at the bottom of the stairs to see Robin knelt over the top step. Once again she took in his broad shoulders plus his bulging biceps as he swung the hammer against nails into the wood. Jasmine coughed and he suddenly turned.
‘Hi, sorry, I did knock,’ she explained.
He stopped what he was doing, looking pleasantly surprised. ‘Hi, Jasmine.’
‘Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you might be able to help?’ she started, a little awkwardly. He really did look busy and she was beginning to regret having to ask for a favour. ‘It’s just that I’ve been let down by the guys who were going to put the kitchen and bathroom in and—’
‘You want me to do it?’ finished Robin with a grin.
‘If you’re too busy that’s—’
‘I’ll do it,’ he interrupted again, still smiling.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked, wide-eyed with hope and filled with relief.
‘Of course.’ He chuckled. ‘It’s what I do, remember?’
‘Thanks so much.’ She grinned, then added, ‘But what about your cottage?’
Robin shrugged. ‘It can wait, there’s no hurry.’
‘I’ll obviously pay you the going rate,’ Jasmine was at pains to point out.
Robin gave a nod. ‘We’ll sort something out, don’t worry.’
‘Are you definitely sure?’ she repeated hesitantly.
Robin crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow.
‘You doubting my workmanship?’ he teased.
‘No!’ Jasmine shouted, then, when realising he was joking, commented, ‘Actually, you’ve come highly recommended.’
‘Oh yes, by whom?’ His hazel eyes twinkled mischievously.
Jasmine couldn’t help but laugh. Again, the second time that day, she’d noted.
‘Trish,’ she said, knowing perfectly well he’d know her. Everybody knew everybody in Samphire Bay, she was fast learning.
‘Ah yes, good old Trish.’ Robin nodded, then looked into her eyes, holding her gaze. A few moments passed before either of them spoke. ‘So, I’ll start tomorrow, first thing,’ he confirmed, breaking the pregnant pause.
‘Thanks so much,’ said Jasmine. ‘See you tomorrow then.’ She left, feeling somewhat… unsettled? But in a good way, she concluded.
Robin certainly wasn’t feeling unsettled in any way. Quite frankly, he couldn’t wait to start work on Jasmine’s cottage, or see her again.
Robin was very careful about what he told Jack. As his business partner, he obviously needed to be informed of the delay in work on their cottage, so Robin had been honest, but not completely open. He’d explained that the ‘next-door neighbour,’ as he referred to her – not Jasmine – was in desperate need of her kitchen and bathroom fitting and how badly she’d been let down.
Jack had been fine about it, but the inquisitiveness in his voice had been evident.
‘So, what’s she like then, this Jasmine?’ he’d asked, with a wry grin on his face. Despite Robin’s blasé tone, he knew damn well when his best mate was being evasive. He could tell Robin was acting deliberately casual in an attempt to keep him at arms distance. Sending him to the reclamation yard, telling him to drop off the skylight window – Robin wanted him well out of the way, he could tell, and the man was putting their own project on hold to help her out. All this could only mean one thing, suspected Jack: Robin had the hots for this Jasmine Boyd. Good for him, he thought. It was about time Robin met someone. He more than most deserved to be happy.
