Chapter 2
For the last time ever, Robin locked the door behind him. That was it. The end of an era. The apartment was the first home he’d bought and he’d been immensely proud of it. Although he hadn’t exactly put his stamp on it, never having had time to decorate, he’d still grown extremely fond of it. Still, Robin was glad to be going. Onwards and upwards. He was relocating to his girlfriend’s, Jasmine, who had an old fisherman’s cottage on the coastal path.
Having moved to Samphire Bay when he was seventeen from north London, Robin had fallen in love with the place immediately. This secluded village, with such spectacular scenery and beautiful bay, had enchanted him from day one. He’d also formed roots with the people living in Samphire Bay, particularly his best friend, Jack Knowles. He and Jack had hit it off straight away. Together, the two of them had been inseparable as teenagers. They’d had a magical time, partying on the beach, dancing under the stars and skinny dipping in the sea.
Robin and Jack, although still close and even working together now as building renovators, were opposites. Whereas Robin was dark and swarthy-looking, Jack was blond and had an almost boyish appearance. Robin was the quieter, more reserved of the two. Jack, however, lived up to his ‘Jack the Lad’ reputation. He drifted in and out of relationships. Apparently, he now had his eye on a woman he’d just recently met.
After Jack had an accident on the building site and cut his hand, Robin had rushed him to A&E. Little did Jack know that the doctor who’d caught his attention at the hospital was the very new owner of Robin’s flat. However, Robin had kept this information to himself. Knowing how his best mate operated, hepreferred to have the sale of his flat nicely in the bag before Jack bulldozed in feet first. Yes, definitely best to surprise him with the news, once everything had gone through. And now it had.
As Robin drove to the exit, he stopped and glanced back up at the elegant Victorian building. Turning, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and waited for the gates to open, then sped off to his new home.
Jasmine was resting with her feet up when Robin arrived. She’d spent all morning stencilling the nursery and was in need of a well-earned rest.
‘Hi,’ he called, entering the lounge. He kissed her forehead then sat beside her on the sofa.
‘Everything OK?’ she asked.
‘Yep. All done. The flat is completely empty and, as of tomorrow, will officially no longer be mine.’ He gave a happy sigh, glad the whole process was finally completed. He could now dedicate all his time and energy on their growing family.
He and Jasmine were expecting twins, which were due in August, just three months away. On the whole they were pretty well prepared. The pregnancy had come as a bit of a shock, and on learning it was twins, even more so. True to form, Jasmine had taken it in her stride. She was pragmatic and very level-headed. But then, she’d had to be. The poor girl had been made a widow at twenty-nine and as a result had chosen to move to Samphire Bay, restoring the old cottage they both lived in.
It was Robin who had given Jasmine the help she’d needed back then when they were neighbours. He and Jack had originally wanted to buy both adjoining cottages as a renovation project. They’d had visions of knocking through and creating a real spectacular detached property. However, they’d only managed to secure one. The owner of the cottages, an older lady called Bunty, had soon warmed to Jasmine and sold the other cottage to her. The two were now close friends.
Jasmine had fitted into Samphire Bay seamlessly and was regarded as ‘one of them’. It was Jasmine who had helped Bunty trace an old flame from the past, Perry, and to everyone’s delight, they had recently married. In fact, Bunty and Perry now lived next door, Bunty having bought back the cottage she’d sold to Robin and Jack after they had finished renovating it. She had previously lived in the art deco house on the peninsula, which was now occupied by Felix Paschal.
So, Samphire Bay was a place filled with people who actuallykneweach other. It was a hidden jewel, tucked neatly away on the north-west Lancashire coastline. Little wonder Robin didn’t want to leave. No, he was more than happy to move into Jasmine’s house and make it their family home.
‘I’ve finished the nursery, by the way,’ said Jasmine, rather pleased with herself.
‘Great, I’ll take a look,’ replied Robin, then looked at her seriously. ‘Don’t do any more though, Jas,’ he told her. ‘You ought to be resting.’
‘I’m fine,’ Jasmine laughed, touched by his concern.
‘No, really, don’t do anything else,’ insisted Robin.
‘OK.’ She shrugged, then turned to him with a sweet smile. ‘Make us a cuppa, will you?’
‘No problem.’ He shot up to put the kettle on, making Jasmine grin to herself. She could get used to this, she thought wryly. Suddenly she felt movement in her swollen belly. The twins were on the move – again. Last night she’d hardly slept. It amazed her at seeing a bulge poke out from her stretched skin every now and then. It was incredible to think there were two tiny human beings inside her. Mind-blowing, really. She gently rubbed her abdomen.
‘You all right in there?’ she asked softly.
As if answering her, an elbow pushed up, followed by a foot. Jasmine took a deep breath in, then breathed out slowly. Something told her she’d be meeting them before August.
Next door, Bunty and Perry were still glowing from their honeymoon. Perry, having been a sailor in his day, had organised a luxury yacht cruise in St. Tropez. It had been an utterly enchanting time for them. Neither had known such lavishness. The yacht had six cabins, housing up to twelve guests, so it wasn’t too overcrowded and created a more intimate experience. They’d had everything they could have wished for: a spa pool, cinema, beauty salon, gymnasium (not that they made use of that), a private deck and al-fresco dining area. They had anchored in superb landscapes and, as Perry had said, ‘The sea remains the best way to reach St. Tropez. It avoids countless hours in traffic.’ He’d been right. The captain had stopped at St. Tropez’s most famous beach spots, and a village where Bunty and Perry had strolled around picturesque streets. The newly-weds had enjoyed sunsets over theBaie des Milliardaires, where a verdant forest stood alongside deluxe properties.
‘Give me our cottage any day,’ remarked Bunty as the two had gazed out at the mansions sparkling in the sun.
‘Absolutely,’ agreed Perry.
The couple returned home fully refreshed, with golden tans and as loved-up as ever. As Jasmine had commented, it was lovely to see an older couple enjoying their best life. It restored faith in human nature to see two senior people, in the autumn of their lives, so completely happy and content. It had taken a while to get there though, having been separated many years ago, but they had finally made it.
‘Well, Mrs Scholar, how does it feel to be back home?’ said Perry with a grin.
‘It feels marvellous,’ replied Bunty, taking a good look around her beloved cottage. Whilst she’d thoroughly enjoyed sailing on the luxury yacht, with all its glamourous trappings, there was no place like home.
