Robin pelted into the sea at full blast, splashing as he charged past her. She laughed, loving his style, no pussyfooting around for him. He pushed himself under the waves, then up again, wiping his hair back, before moving into a crawl swim. She treaded water, mesmerised by his energy and movements as his biceps thrust in and out of the sea. She swam towards him, keeping her head above the water.
‘When did you last come here?’ she panted once she caught up to him.
‘Too long ago,’ he said, turning to face her.
His eyelashes were dark and wet, outlining the sparkle in his hazel eyes. Jasmine swallowed, then looked away towards a flock of noisy seagulls.
‘Come on, I’ll race you,’ Robin said with gusto.
‘No way, you’ll easily win,’ she replied with a half-laugh.
‘I’ll give you a head start, go on.’ He tipped his head out to sea. Jasmine ventured a few metres ahead of him then looked back, smiling. ‘Ready, steady, go!’ he shouted. The two of them swam frantically towards the horizon. Robin easily overtook her, grabbing her waist on the way, putting her off stride.
‘You cheat!’ she spluttered.
‘I am not,’ Robin tried to sound indignant, but couldn’t keep a straight face.
They eventually swam back and waded out of the sea. Shivering, they wrapped towels round themselves and sat in the sun on the dunes, quickly drying in the summer heat.
‘That was so revitalising,’ said Robin. ‘I can see why you do it every morning.’
‘It’s brilliant,’ replied Jasmine, taking out a flask from her rucksack. ‘Want some coffee?’ He nodded and she passed him a small plastic cup.
He blew on it. ‘Thanks.’
‘Actually, I hadn’t planned to swim today,’ Jasmine remarked, then went on to explain the studio project she had planned and the conversation she’d had with A.R. Hall Services Ltd. Robin frowned, he knew who that was; Adrian Hall, they’d gone to the same college.
‘That’s odd,’ he said when Jasmine had relayed how the man had abruptly changed his mind.
Jasmine blew out a breath. ‘And now I’m stuck with no one to level out the garden.’
‘No you’re not. I’ll do it.’
‘But you don’t have the machinery,’ Jasmine said.
‘We can hire one. Jack’ll probably know someone with a Bobcat.’
‘But you’re too busy, Robin, and besides, you’ve helped me more than enough already,’ she tried to reason with him.
‘No, honestly, it won’t take too long,’ he insisted, still rather puzzled by Adrian’s behaviour.
A storm was brewing, the spell of sunshine and heat reaching a heady climax. Bunty watched the dark clouds seep through the sky, like ink blotching out the daylight. Rumbles of thunder echoed in the air. She counted between each growl to estimate the distance, a method her father had taught her years ago, each second representing a mile. Seven – the storm was getting nearer and nearer. The seagulls dashed across the unsettled waves, their squawks piercing over the bay.
The tempest reflected Bunty’s mood: foreboding. Turning her gaze from the window, she looked down towards the table, where the photographs lay all in a row like her tarot cards. These pictures told a story too, not of the future, but of the past. She sighed and sat down, staring at the set of black and white camera shots, all depicting happier times. Reaching out, Bunty picked up the one of her paddling in the sea. How chic she was in her Capri pants and such shapely legs! Then her eyes swept towards the handsome young man beside her, also very stylish, but then Perry always had been rather dapper. She examined his face, the creases by his eyes as he squinted in the sun, the dimples in his cheeks as he laughed, theloveshining from his very existence.
Bunty’s throat clogged with emotion. No matter how long ago it was, the pain of losing him still cut like a knife. Once more, the image of him sailing out to sea in his little red boat drifted into her mind, that final salute, and all over circumstances that should never have been…
‘Marry me, Bunty.’ It was more an order than a proposal. His voicewas firm, to the point of indignant. He’d asked several times before,but only to be met with the same response.
‘I can’t leave Daddy, he’s all I’ve got.’ She searched his face, hoping he’d understand her predicament.
Perry had understood all right. He’d learnt early on just how selfish Hamish Deville was. Selfish and quite disturbing. Perry could see plain as day how he manipulated his daughter. Bunty was his only child and she belongedto him.
From the moment he had stepped foot into the huge art deco house, standing proudly on the peninsula, Perry had been in awe of the grandeur of the place. Having come from a humble fisherman’s cottage, he’d never experienced the likes. His qualms hadn’t been calmed by the presence of the owner either. Hamish Deville had taken one look at the hesitant young man his daughter had brought into his home and his distaste had practically oozed from him.
Standing at the top of the sweeping staircase, Hamish had frozen, his eyes narrowed.
‘And who’s this?’ he demanded, glaring down at the young couple.
