Jasmine soon finished her breakfast and felt better already with a full stomach.
‘That was delicious, Bunty, thanks again.’ She smiled, ever mindful of the old lady’s kindness. Then, like it had with Robin, Jasmine began to questionwhyBunty was showing so much compassion… and always had to a virtual stranger. ‘Bunty, why did you sell your cottage to me at such a knock-down price?’
‘Because I wanted to, darling,’ Bunty answered simply. ‘Both cottages needed love and attention, bringing back to life, and I knew you were the person to do it.’
‘Me and Robin?’
Bunty smiled wryly. ‘Robin wanted both cottages.’
Jasmine was shocked by the news. ‘Did he?’ He’d never once indicated this to her – had she missed something in their interactions? Did he still feel that way?
‘Oh yes, he and Jack saw them as a real business venture. Given their way I suspect they’d have created one large country house, the full works.’
Jasmine frowned. ‘Then why didn’t you sell them both to Robin and Jack?’
‘It just didn’t feel right. I wanted the cottages to remain as they were, two separate homes.’ Bunty gazed wistfully into the distance.
‘Who lived in the cottages, Bunty?’ Jasmine asked, half knowing there must be an emotional tie.
‘Local fishermen,’ she replied.
‘Perry, the man in the photographs, lived in Robin’s cottage, didn’t he?’
Bunty’s eyes came back to rest on Jasmine’s face.
‘Yes, he did.’
Jasmine decided to venture further, but tread with care. ‘What happened to Perry?’ she enquired gently.
Bunty inhaled deeply, then exhaled on a loud sigh, bracing herself for the memories that were, once again, being brought to the surface.
‘He sailed away, darling, out of my life.’
‘Do you know where to?’
‘Sorry?’ Bunty’s forehead puckered.
‘I mean, do you know where he is now?’ Jasmine searched her face.
‘No, how would I know?’ replied Bunty, genuinely puzzled by Jasmine’s question.
‘There’s ways and means, Bunty. The world’s a smaller place nowadays with the internet.’
At this Bunty burst into laughter. ‘What, you mean track him down, darling?’
There was a pregnant silence.
Bunty looked sceptically at Jasmine. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Just a thought, Bunty. Supposing he’s not that far away?’
‘Hmm and married with children and umpteen grandchildren?’ she said dryly. ‘Do you really think he’ll remember me?’
‘But what if he isn’t and hedidremember you, Bunty?’ Jasmine asked in a small but insistent voice.
Bunty didn’t have an answer.
Robin opened his wardrobe whilst laughing softly to himself. It was Saturday, the evening of the dinner party at Bunty’s. Originally, he was sure, Jasmine’s offer had been intended to be a simple kitchen supper, but now it had escalated to some kind of formal, elaborate affair. Bunty had even given him strict instructions on what to wear when she’d announced it was a black tie event.
