After a barbecue at the Driftwood on Easter Sunday and a lazy family lunch on Monday, it was back to work for Jess on Tuesday. The farm was still busy, but there was a lull in the frenzy of activity so she caught up on some admin while some of the workers took a well-earned break. Anna had gone to the mainland on the Islander, which was now making its daily journey full of tourists to and from Scilly.
You could tell it was still holiday time for some of the schools by the amount of families enjoying the mild spring weather on the beaches of St Saviour’s. Jess loved to see the kids chasing around the beaches and dipping their nets in the rockpools at low tide, although the sight had taken on a bittersweet edge lately. She’d started to imagine how it would be to start a family with Adam, before their relationship had broken down. But as quickly as such rogue thoughts intruded, she shook them off again, throwing herself into her work and the comforting rhythm of life at the farm.
The cycle of the seasons and its never-ending stream of tasks had always been her solace when times were tough, especially over the past few months. There were still a few late narcissi to harvest: Silver Chimes, Golden Dawn and Winston Churchill – each with its own distinctive hue ranging from white through orange-flecked cream to paint box yellow. Even though she’d lived at the farm for thirty-six years, Jess still found it hard to believe that in a few days, they would all be gone and the whole cycle would start again in preparation for the next season’s crop. The team would shortly be digging up and replanting bulbs to give them space to grow and flourish over the summer so they could produce the best flowers when autumn came again.
She meant to do so much, but as was always the way, once she took her foot off the gas pedal at this time of year, she felt listless and lacking motivation. Her mind kept wandering to almost anything else but the business.
Maisie’s latest scan had shown Little Sprog developing well and Maisie was starting to think about letting Patrick clear out at least the spare room in their cottage. Will was reasonably cheerful and had organised another rowing practice and formally entered the Mixed team for the championships after a slightly more promising session the previous week. He planned to row with the St Saviour’s Men’s crew which was held on the Saturday of the bank holiday weekend and then take part in the Mixed on the Sunday, which was the final event of the schedule. This was now less than a month away, which meant they could realistically only get in three more weeks’ practice.
And, of course, there was Adam’s letter. Jess had read it so often now that it had become crumpled, grubby and in danger of tearing along one of the creases. She stood by the window of the office now, looking out over the fields. ‘Why did you write it?’ she murmured.
‘Write what?’
Jess turned around to find Luca in the doorway. She thought again how striking he was. No one on the islands – not even Patrick or even Adam himself – came close to that level of male beauty. He was wearing a shirt and suit today but no tie. Italian, of course, she guessed, judging by how perfectly it fit him.
‘Hi there. Hope I’m not interrupting,’ he added, saving her from having to answer.
She blushed at her appraisal of him, hoping he couldn’t detect her admiration in her pink cheeks. ‘As a matter of fact, you are,’ she said.
‘Oh. OK.’
It was fun to see his confident smile fade, but Jess couldn’t keep up the pretence for long. ‘But that doesn’t mean the interruption isn’t welcome.’ Any excuse to avoid the latest directive from the health and safety executive she should have been reading. ‘Are you looking for Gaby?’ she asked.
His brow creased. ‘No. Why would I be looking for Gaby?’
‘I don’t know. I thought you two were friends.’ More than friends, judging by the way they’d been flirting at the pub after the rowing ‘race’.
‘No. Actually I was hoping to find you.’
‘Oh?’ Jess was so surprised, she couldn’t think of a witty reply.
Luca perched on the edge of her desk. ‘I’ve been to the St Saviour’s Hotel.’
‘For lunch?’ she asked, noting the firmness of his thigh encased in Italian wool. It was hard not to, when he was only a foot away from her.
‘I did eat there but my primary purpose was to check out the competition. Spying, I suppose you could call it.’
She smiled at his honesty. ‘And?’
He brushed a stray thread off his trousers before replying. ‘Great food. Incredible view. Decor needs bringing into the twenty-first century, but the service was top-notch.’
‘Glad to hear they looked after you. Some of my friends work there.’ But what had any of this got to do with her?
‘I also passed the Gannet Inn on the way home. There’s a notice outside saying there’s a band playing there on Thursday evening.’ He glanced up at her. ‘I wondered if you wanted to have a bite to eat there and then give them a try.’
She couldn’t tear her eyes from him. He was beautiful in the way of statues she’d once seen on a school visit to Rome. Sculpted and chiselled. That fanciful thought made her want to laugh. He was only human, but what the hell was he doing asking her out? Her heart rate picked up. This had been the last thing she’d expected to happen …
‘Are you sure?’ was all she could manage.
He laughed softly. ‘Would I ask if I wasn’t? Of course I’m sure.’
‘OK … but I’ll admit you’ve taken me by surprise. I wondered if you and Gaby were interested in each other …’
‘No. There’s nothing going on.’ He smiled again, showing a perfect set of white teeth. ‘It turns out that she knew my sister, Sophia, at Cambridge, though. It’s a small world, isn’t it? And anyway, I also kind of assumed that Gaby and Will were an item, despite what you told me after the rowing.’
‘What made you think that?’ she asked, grateful to have a few moments to try and work out how she felt about Luca asking her out.
‘Will’s always looking at her as if he wants to jump on her; she’s always looking at him as if she wants him to leap on her …’
Jess laughed.
‘… And then there’s the verbal sparring between them of course. Even if I had been interested in Gaby in that way, I’d have picked up the signals that she’s crazy on Will within about five minutes.’
Jess nodded. ‘Hmm. I’ve suspected this for a long time and I thought they’d get together months ago, to be honest, but Will thinks it’s a bad idea to get involved with a member of staff. As for Gaby; she’s very independent underneath the charm. She knows her own mind and she’s probably decided to steer clear of him.’ She shut her mouth suddenly, regretting her words. ‘Hold on, why am I telling you all this? I hardly know you.’
Luca tapped the side of his nose. ‘Ah. That’s the thing. People always tell me things they don’t share with anyone else. It’s my secret superpower.’ He climbed off the desk. ‘So is seven o’clock OK? I assume you never really finish work with a business like this?’
‘You’re right …’ Jess realised she hadn’t even said yes and he was offering a time. Classic salesperson’s tactic: leave no room for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. She shook her head in amusement and decided to fall for it. She needed a boost. ‘Seven should be fine.’
Luca blew her a kiss and left.
Jess hung around in the doorway and watched him saunter across the yard and out of the gate towards the quay before taking a deep breath. Wow. That was unexpected: Luca asking her out and her agreeing. What would Will say? She could picture his face when she told him she was going out with ‘the tool’. She smiled to herself. It could be quite funny, but her mother’s reaction wouldn’t be as amusing: her mum would be breaking out the champagne and planning the flowers for the wedding. Erlicheer if it was spring: Gran’s Delight if it was a summer ceremony.
Maybe she should keep the date quiet until she rocked up at the Gannet with Luca, after which word would no doubt spread … after all it was no one’s business but their own. She took another calming breath: going out with Luca was exactly what she needed after the gloom of the past six months: he was witty and handsome and, most of all, he wasn’t Adam.
*
On Wednesday lunchtime, Jess walked back from the St Saviour’s Hotel with a spring in her step. She’d splashed out on a cut and blow-dry at the hotel spa, and splurged on some new coppery highlights at the same time, then gone mad with a manicure that she hoped might last until the following evening, if she could avoid all manual labour until then. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d indulged: not even for her cousin’s wedding, when her nails had been a DIY job and she’d trimmed her own fringe.
The price had made her wince but she reckoned she deserved a treat after a gloomy winter. She doubted Will would even notice. She still hadn’t told him about the date and he’d gone to St Mary’s to talk to some of the other narcissi farmers about selling more of their crop to the flower farm to meet demand in the autumn. They’d managed to secure a deal with a big supermarket and they couldn’t grow everything they wanted on their own patch. Her mother was still safely away on the mainland, so Jess wouldn’t have to endure her scrutiny either.
Jess’s route home took her past the market garden, with its vegetable stall and ‘honesty box’ selling assorted misshapen but perfectly edible veg. Despite the dark times over the past few months, it always made her smile. She and Adam had once spotted a large willy-shaped carrot on the stall and fallen about in hysterics. She remembered Adam saying, ‘Wow. That gives a new meaning to the phrase meat and two veg.’
Even now, the happy memories gave her a bittersweet pang. He’d bought the carrots and cooked the rude one and presented it on a plate to Jess, with a couple of strategically placed Brussels sprouts. It was very silly but had had them rolling about with laughter … and shortly afterwards, rolling about on the floor of his cottage.
Which unfortunately, was only minutes away down the path to her left. She’d managed to walk past the track several times in the past couple of weeks and thought she was doing well, but today …
Today she could bear it. Today was the first day of the next stage of her life without Adam and she needed to put her hand near the fire and prove to herself that she really had moved forward.
She turned off the concrete road and down the sandy track towards the bay. Two minutes later she emerged from the high hedges and out onto a cobbled slipway that led into the shallow water. Several boats were afloat off shore with more pulled up on the beach and secured by chains to metal rings on the cobbles, which glistened with bright green weed.
Thrift Cottage hunkered down below a gentle hill, fifty metres back from the sand. It was one of a row of four that had once belonged to fishermen. Three were now holiday cottages and the other owned by a Scillonian family on St Mary’s who rented it out to long-term or permanent residents like Adam was – or had been. Jess kept her distance for a while, and calmed her racing heart. Adam’s bike was still outside but leaving stuff behind meant nothing: few people could afford to ship all their possessions with them when they left. Adam’s furniture would probably be sold at a ‘garage’ sale or given away soon.
She thought back to how she’d reacted to him when he’d first turned up with the post at the flower farm two years before. She’d thought he was a gym bunny – like Luca – but soon realised that he was naturally built like that. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him and slowly but surely, she’d fallen for him. He’d taken out a long-term rental contract on the cottage, bought a boat and shown every sign that he was here to stay.
Jess’s gaze was pulled like a magnet to the silent cottage with its blank windows and the bike already showing signs of rust in the sea air. Damn. It had been a mistake to come here. It wasn’t helping her focus on the future or on tomorrow’s date, and anyway rain was rolling in from the far west if those dark clouds were anything to go by.
She gave the cottage a last glance and was about to leave when she heard the crunch of gears and groans as an ancient vehicle turned off the road and down the track to the cottage. It sounded like the Yarrows’ Land Rover … Jack probably. He lived on the hill above and his boat was pulled up on the beach, probably waiting for the turn of the tide so he could go fishing.
Jack was a loudmouth and know-all. The last thing Jess wanted was to be spotted moping outside Adam’s cottage, so she decided to make herself scarce. She hurried across the top of the slipway towards a ‘rabbit run’ path through the hedge opposite the cottage. She could make her way from there back up to the main road without being seen. She’d slipped behind the hedge when the Land Rover laboured onto the top of the slipway. Jack was in the driver’s seat, but he wasn’t alone. She heard voices and recognised two of them.
Her heart thumped as loud as a drum as a heavy door slammed shut.
Jess edged towards the exit of the path, desperate to have her fears – her hopes – confirmed but not daring to move any closer in case she was seen.
‘Thanks for the lift, mate.’
‘’S’all right. How long are you back for?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘OK. See ya. Do you and the ladies want a hand with the luggage?’
‘No, thanks. We can manage from here.’
That northern accent, even the ring of his boots on the cobbles. It was impossible to mistake.
Adam was back – and he wasn’t alone.