‘Thank you, I don’t think I could manage it all on my own,’ said Bunty in a small voice, which touched his heart.
‘Well, you’re not on your own,’ he said. ‘I’m here, at your service.’ He winked, pleased to see it draw a smile from her.
‘Where are we sailing to?’ asked Bunty blowing on her cup.
‘I thought we’d go to Carston.’
‘Carston?’ Immediately Bunty thought of Jasmine’s late husband.
‘The market town?’ Perry frowned.
‘It’s where Jasmine lived, when she and her husband had a narrowboat.’
‘Yes, I remember. Poor bloke. He was killed outside The Mariners, wasn’t he?’
‘Hmm, a hit-and-run,’ Bunty said gravely.
‘Terrible business. I believe they’ve caught his killer though, pretty recently.’
‘They have, thank God.’
When they arrived at Carston, Perry slowed the boat and gently steered it to the side bank. The throb of the engine dulled and then stopped completely. Perry helped Bunty to climb up the steps out onto the canal path. There, they walked contentedly along arm in arm and Bunty realised it had literally been years since she’d had a trip out like this. Samphire Bay was an area of outstanding natural beauty, but it was good to have a change of scenery – and company. She stole a glance at Perry. My, he was good-looking. He wore a grey silk waistcoat over a paisley patterned shirt. Bunty looked down over her blue linen trousers and stripey blue and white top, hoping she looked the part. Drawing the line at wearing a sailor’s cap, she’d wanted to create a nautical look.
‘Shall we call for a drink?’ Perry asked, pointing to a building with ‘Bridge 64 Cafe Bar’ written in the window.
‘Sure, let’s.’
Entering, Bunty scanned the place, taking in the old, wooden whiskey barrels used as tables and high stools. The cafe was airy, with a glass gable end flooding in the daylight, overlooking the marina. Perry ordered them a bottle of wine, which they shared whilst admiring the view outside.
Bunty relaxed, sipping cool white wine as any remaining tension in her evaporated. The estate agent’s appointment was bothering her. Not really looking forward to a stranger intruding in her home, she was apprehensive of any possible criticism. Although it was her pride and joy, she had begun to see the house from a prospective buyer’s eye. Fearing she would take any adverse critique personally, Bunty was mentally preparing a ‘tough skin’ – something Daddy often referred to. It helped knowing Perry would be about, and it also helped that Robin had arranged for her to view the cottage. At least there wouldn’t be any issues there, wise to the excellent workmanship of Robin and Jack. She hadn’t told Perry yet of her plans. How would he react, when he learned she was about to live in his old house?
‘Penny for them?’ Perry watched her, sensing there was something afoot.
‘I’m buying back the cottage you once rented,’ she said. He stopped mid-drink and looked at her. ‘It seems the ideal solution. I know its renovation will be first class and it’s a fantastic spot. Besides, where else is there? Property doesn’t come on the market that often in Samphire Bay.’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Perry agreed. And her father made damn sure he never returned, buying the cottage he previously lived in. ‘I’m sure you’ll be very happy there.’ He raised his glass.
After finishing the bottle, they made their way into the historic market town. It was charming with its artisan shops and restaurants. They passed The Mariners pub on the high street and Bunty shivered. Quickly moving on, they called at various charity shops and a deli store where Bunty bought two sandwiches for the journey back. That was the beauty of canal boating, you could sit, eat, drink and relax whilst still travelling. She could see the appeal it held for Perry and Jasmine.
Bunty never wanted the day to end, she’d never had so much fun. Perry made a fine companion. Considering they had so much history together, very little was said about the past, though Bunty couldn’t help but detect an undercurrent concerning this. She could only assume it was resentment towards her father. As a young adult growing up, she too had seen Daddy in a different light. Perry’s absence in her life had triggered that. On the rare occasion she had challenged his attitude towards Perry, he had dismissed her nonchalantly, stating that the likes of Perry were not for his precious daughter, and did she really think he’d let his only child go to someone less worthy of her? He’d smothered her in superficial compliments in an attempt to distract her, in order to keep her to himself, she knew that now. Anger started to boil inside her. She had sacrificed far, far too much. She had acted as the dutiful daughter till the end, fetching and carrying for him like a lapdog. Today had spelt out, so starkly, just what she had missed out on. All those years she’d never get back. Well, that dominant figure in her life wasn’t here now, was he? And she was going to make bloody sure nobody would ruin her second chance with Perry.
Despite Robin’s prediction, the Sunday lunch with Jasmine and his parents was not what he had envisaged. Instead of a formal, sit-down affair with a full roast, his mum and dad were busy at the outdoor cooking station on the patio. Making the most of the last of summer, they’d decided to eat al fresco. Robin was secretly pleased, as it created a more casual atmosphere.
‘Thought we’d eat out here, whilst we still can,’ said Robin’s mum, as she came to meet them. ‘I’m Ann by the way, pleased to meet you.’ She smiled warmly and offered her hand to Jasmine.
‘Pleased to meet you too,’ Jasmine replied, shaking her hand.
‘And I’m John!’ called Robin’s dad, turning around waving a spatula. He was stood over the grill of the oven, wearing an apron with the words ‘Head Chef’ stitched across the chest.
‘Hi,’ Jasmine called back. She marvelled at the outside kitchen, all stainless steel and granite, with an oven, grills and barbeque hood. ‘I love that,’ she said, nodding her head towards the cooking station.
‘I know, it’s great,’ trilled Ann. ‘We’ve really made good use of it this summer, all thanks to our wonderful son.’ She put her hands on Robin’s shoulders.
‘Mum,’ Robin muttered in embarrassment.
Jasmine grinned. ‘Oh, did Robin fit it?’
‘He certainly did!’ yelled John, patently keen to be included in the conversation despite his task at hand. ‘And he made a brilliant job of it too.’
