“Ships? Excise officers? Jealous wives and girlfriends?” She shouldered the door open. “You won’t find any alcohol hidden under the bed though. These days if you want brandy you just phone down to the bar. Here you go. This is it. Home. It’s not exactly spacious, but it’s cosy.”
Abby followed her into the room and Evie saw surprise on her face.
“It’s gorgeous. I expected something dark and—I’m not sure—sinister?”
The late-day sunlight sent a rosy glow over the room, bouncing across the wooden floors. There was a desk beneath a large window that overlooked the harbour and the cliffs, and a comfortable armchair.
“The bathroom is through here—” Evie pushed open the door and saw with relief that it was gleaming and that there were fresh towels. Whatever was wrong with Tristan and his team, at least he hadn’t fallen down on the job. “I know it’s not big, but—”
“It’s perfect.” Abby walked to the window and stared out over the cliffs. “Thank you.” She turned. “You’ve been kind. You should go home and relax. You’ve earned it.”
She’d thought she wanted to do just that, but there was something about Abby that made her hesitate. She seemed—vulnerable? No. Not that. She’d had no trouble putting moody Tristan in his place and she was clearly independent and used to looking after herself.
What then?
Evie couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe she just needed a friend. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you to join me for a glass of wine in my garden? It goes well with apple.”
Abby laughed. “Maybe another night. But thank you.”
“If you’re sure.” Comforting herself with the fact that she’d tried, Evie handed over the key and headed back to the door. “If you need anything call me. Or Tristan. Despite appearances, he’s very approachable. I know he seemed a bit moody, but it’s not personal. Things have been tough for him lately. His dad fell down the steps in the cellar a few months ago and he broke more bones than I can bear to think about. Tristan has had to step in, and that hasn’t been easy for either of them.”
She closed the door behind her, headed downstairs and found Tristan behind the bar, serving customers.
Evie stepped behind the bar and stood at his elbow so he couldn’t ignore her.
“Okay, sunshine. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m working.” He handed over two glasses of wine to the man hovering at the bar and took payment.
“We can talk about it here if you like. I’m sure your customers would all have an opinion on it.”
He gave her an exasperated look and then glanced at Matt, who was working alongside him. “I’ll be five minutes.”
“No worries, boss.”
Tristan followed her out to the back of the pub. They stepped onto the street and he leaned against the wall and looked at her.
“Whatever it is you want to say, say it quickly. It’s hot out here and sweating and burning in the sun isn’t going to make me less grumpy.”
“It’s gorgeous.” She shaded her eyes from the sun. “It’s a perfect day. Don’t you remember those horrible rainy days in January and February? This is blissful—”
“Ev, there’s only so much of your relentless cheerfulness I can handle in one day. Get to the point.”
She let her hand drop. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m a grumpy person and you need to accept that.”
She pulled him into a small patch of shade and linked her arm with his. “You’re not a grumpy person. You’re grumpy today, and I want to know why. What happened? Is it your dad?”
It was a moment before he answered. “We had a conversation five minutes before you arrived. Bad timing, that’s all.”
“And how is he?”
“Frustrated by his lack of ability to move around as freely as he used to, but still well enough to point out in detail all the things I’m doing wrong. Every conversation is a joy, particularly when you’re in the middle of hauling heavy weights around a cellar.”
She knew how conflicted he was about the situation.
“It’s hard for both of you. It must be frustrating for him not being able to do all the things he did before the accident. He’s having to adjust to a new normal.”
