Rosie blinked her eyes open. When she looked up, she didn’t see the ceiling of her own familiar bedroom. In fact, she didn’t see any ceiling at all. Instead, she found herself staring at the maroon canopy of a four-poster bed. She pushed herself up a little and looked at Charlie next to her. She was still asleep. Memories of last night flooded Rosie’s mind. She indulged and allowed herself to reminisce for a few moments, before having to face the morning’s cold hard reality.

Charlie was leaving today. She was going back to her life in London.

Anguish settled in Rosie’s chest. She looked away from Charlie, who lay sleeping so peacefully, giving the impression that things could be so different. As long as Charlie didn’t wake up, Rosie could hold on to the illusion that Charlie didn’t have this other life — a life she had been more than happy to escape from for a few weeks.

At the same time, Rosie wanted Charlie to wake up, because they only had a little more time left together. Did she have to leave this morning or only tonight? Would she have time for one last meal at the cafe she had so deftly changed into a thriving business — something Rosie still couldn’t wrap her head around.

She glanced around the room, which was about the size of the entire flat she and Paige shared. They hadn’t bothered to close the heavy curtains hanging from the windows last night. They’d been too busy letting their hands roam all over each other’s naked bodies. Rosie was no expert, but even she knew instinctively that the vase on the chest of drawers to her left was expensive, and the painting that hung next to it didn’t look like it was picked up at a thrift store either.

Charlie really did have friends in high places.

Rosie felt a hand against her thigh.

“Morning,” Charlie croaked.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” Rosie curled up next to Charlie, facing her. “Good night’s sleep?”

“Best I’ve had in years.” Charlie broke into a smile.

“Me too.” Rosie kissed her on the tip of her nose. Do you really have to leave, Rosie wanted to ask, but she couldn’t get the words past her lips. She wanted this moment to be about something other than goodbye. And Charlie wasn’t moving to the other side of the world. Hundreds of people came down to Cornwall from London all the time. Surely Charlie could hop on a train and come see her?

“Please tell me you don’t have to open the cafe.” Charlie scooted closer to Rosie. “I’d like to keep you in this bed for a while longer.”

“What time is it?” Rosie shot up. “I should call my aunt. She can open up this morning, but I shouldn’t leave her alone for too long. Thanks to you, we’re swamped.”

“Argh,” Charlie groaned. “I did this to myself then.” She slung an arm over Rosie’s belly.

“All these posh paintings on the walls, but not a clock in sight.” Rosie pressed herself against Charlie’s warm body. She didn’t want to get out of this bed either. She also didn’t feel like running downstairs and retrieving her phone. This house was so big, she might get lost on the way.

“Relax. It’s not even fully light yet.” Charlie pressed her fingertips into Rosie’s back.

“You might be on an extended holiday, but I’m not.” Rosie pushed herself a little more into Charlie’s embrace. If they kept this up, she’d never get out of here.

A mobile phone started ringing downstairs. They both stiffened.

“That’s probably Aunt Hilary wondering where I am.” Rosie started to disentangle herself from Charlie’s arms. “If you want to keep me here a little longer, I need to get that.”

“Oh, all right.” Charlie let go of her.

Rosie jumped out of bed, at the same time looking around for a piece of clothing she could cover herself with.

“Take the bedspread,” Charlie said, and started pulling it off the bed.

Rosie wrapped herself in it and darted downstairs. The phone kept ringing and she had only to follow the intrusive sound it made to find the living room — if you could still call it that. It looked more like a ballroom to her.

The phone finally stopped ringing.

Rosie scanned the room. Her phone lay on top of her crumpled pair of jeans. She looked at the screen. No missed calls. It must have been Charlie’s phone then. She might as well take it up to her, now that she was here. She spotted it on a sideboard that she was pretty sure she’d once seen on The Antiques Road Show being valued for a few hundred thousand pounds.

As she picked it up, it started ringing again. The name Alex popped up on the screen. Charlie’s sister really needed to speak to Charlie this morning. Rosie checked the time. It wasn’t even 7.00am.

She hurried up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Maybe something had happened in Charlie’s family. Rosie knew all about receiving the worst news when you least expected it, and she hoped, for Charlie’s sake, that her sister was just the impatient kind.

“Your sister really wants to talk to you,” Rosie said as she walked into the bedroom and thrust the phone in Charlie’s hands.

Charlie shot up. “What?” Flabbergasted, she looked at her phone, which started ringing again a few seconds after it stopped.

“Are you not going to pick up?” Rosie shrugged off the bedspread and got back under the covers.

“Not now.” Charlie switched her phone to silent mode.

“What if it’s important?” Rosie asked, fiddling with her own phone. She needed to text Aunt Hilary.

“What’s more important than this time with you?” Charlie put her phone away and turned to Rosie, a wide smile on her face.

Really bad news was usually not delivered by phone, Rosie concluded. If something had happened to one of Charlie’s family members, the police would find her and break the news to her personally.

Rosie finished her text to Aunt Hilary, promising she would be there soon to help with the breakfast rush.

“Not much, I guess,” Rosie said, and kissed Charlie on the lips.

Charlie had promised to come by the cafe later for a last goodbye before leaving Otter Bay. Rosie tried to focus on that thought as she headed in the direction of Mark & Maude’s. She needed the walk to clear her head. To process last night’s events and etch every touch of Charlie’s skin on hers into her memory. Last night had not just been sex with someone passing through the village. It had been much more than that. Despite Charlie only having come into her life a few short weeks earlier, she had changed it completely.

Rosie was headed towards a thriving cafe — a place she’d been so fed up with, she’d stuck an actual For Sale sign in the window. Then Charlie had waltzed in and changed her mind — and helped her turn Mark & Maude’s into this quirky, cosy diner Rosie had not been able to see in it. Not until she’d looked at the place through Charlie’s eyes.

The ride in the limo, the delicious dishes Charlie had asked Gina to prepare for them. That first kiss. Last night. It all seemed like a dream. But today, Charlie was leaving.

Rosie was about to cross the high street, when a small Jack Russell barrelled towards her. She knew that dog. She crouched down to pet Biscuit, while her heart sank. Biscuit was Amy’s dog. She couldn’t be far behind and Rosie would have no way of avoiding her. Such was the reality of life in Otter Bay.

A few seconds later, there she was. Rosie heard her footsteps approach but spent a little more time scratching Biscuit behind the ears.

“You’re a bit far from home,” Amy said.

“I needed a walk. Just like this little fella.” She rose because it didn’t feel very comfortable having Amy stare down at her like that.

“Look at how happy he is to see you.” Amy cocked her head. “I know you’re more of a cat person, but that dog is crazy about you.”

Biscuit was trying to jump up, but his short legs didn’t give him much height.

Rosie smiled. “I have room in my heart for both species.”

Amy chuckled. “What’s up with you this morning? You have a strange look on your face.”

Rosie shrugged. “Nothing’s up.”

“Are you sure?” Amy took a step closer, as though she wanted to sniff Rosie to better suss out what was going on.

Rosie might as well save her the bother. “I spent the night at the manor up the hill. With Charlie.”

Amy’s face fell for an instant, but she regrouped quickly. “A night with the princess, eh.”

“The princess.” Rosie scoffed. “Staying at the manor doesn’t automatically make you a princess.”

“Not if you already are one.” Amy arched up her eyebrows.

Rosie shook her head. “Look, I need to get going. Aunt Hilary’s alone in the cafe.”

“Come on, Biscuit.” The dog perked up his ears at the sound of his name. “We’re off.” Amy continued in the opposite direction.

Rosie was glad she didn’t have to walk the rest of the way with Amy by her side.

She marched on and remembered bringing Charlie’s phone to her earlier that morning, the name Alex blinking on the screen in big white letters. What would have happened if she’d picked up? The phone had been ringing insistently enough. What would she have found out? What did Alexandra — Rosie presumed that was what Alex was short for — want from her sister at seven in the morning? Alexandra, like in Princess Alexandra, first in line to the throne.

Rosie shook off the thought. Alexandra was a very popular name — she’d had two classmates called that even in Otter Bay’s tiny school. And as far as she knew, there was no Princess Charlotte, which she assumed Charlie was short for. Besides, Charlie might be mysterious, but she was much too kind to keep that kind of vital information from Rosie. It didn’t fit with the Charlie who had transformed her life in the space of three short weeks.

She arrived at the gate of the cemetery. She briefly considered going in to visit her parents’ grave, but she really had to get to Aunt Hilary. If this morning’s crowd was anything like the ones they’d served the last couple of days, Aunt Hilary would be rushed off her feet — and her aunt was no spring chicken anymore.

Rosie walked on, upping her pace to make up for the time she’d lost chatting to Amy. She didn’t need to see her parents’ grave to think about them — to ask them for advice. Not for actual advice, of course. But talking to her mum and dad in her head often brought Rosie a kind of clarity that was hard to find when she didn’t involve their memory in her thought process. They helped her see things clearer, enabled her to get to the point more quickly.

Rosie was sure of one thing. Her mum and dad would be pleased for her that she’d met someone. If anything, they had always believed in love. Being married for all those years hadn’t made them lose their appreciation for each other. They’d worked side by side every single day, and Rosie had seen their love on display every single one of them.

What would they say about Charlie leaving tomorrow? At least you had the time you did with her, her dad would have said, and that’s better than nothing. Not having her parents anymore, Rosie knew that one to be true.

What would they make of what Amy had just said?

“Nonsense, darling,” Rosie heard her mother’s voice in her head. “That girl’s just jealous. That’s plain as day.”

Rosie nodded. That’s right, she thought. Utter nonsense. She’d reach the cafe in about five minutes, and she knew what she was going to spend those five minutes thinking about: Charlie’s deliciously muscled body all over hers.