Page 18 of Second Chance Summer
‘I gave you a window seat,’ Sam said, ‘although there’s not much of a view at the moment.’
She followed his apologetic gaze to the raindrops sliding down the glass. Beyond that was a wall of grey mist.
‘It’ll clear up tomorrow,’ he said.
Sharing none of his confidence, Lily turned her attention to the interior to cheer herself up and keep the conversation neutral. ‘Nice room. Lovely old beams,’ she said, pointing to the gnarled oak trusses that were holding up the roof.
‘Oh, yes. Apparently, the big one was salvaged by the islanders from the wreck of a ship.’
‘You’re kidding me?’
‘It’s well documented in the parish records. Elspeth willknow more about it.’ He grimaced. ‘Though maybe asking her about the history of the island isn’t the best idea.’
‘No, I’ve already been spooked once by a branch tapping at my window. Thought it was the shades come to wreak revenge.’
‘Ouch! I am sorry you heard some of that conversation. Like I said, my aunt is very keen on the history of the islands. Our family go back generations and she’s never left here. Any kind of change is hard for her to accept.’
‘Change can be hard for all of us but sometimes you need to do something different,’ Lily said, thinking of Lily Loves and the supermarket offer to stock her brand. Perhaps it was exactly the injection of fresh ideas and finance her business needed, even if it would take her away from the original idea behind Lily Loves.
‘I do know what you mean,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll get your starter.’
Thoughts of work took a back seat when Sam arrived at the table a few minutes later with a plate of pink lobster meat on fresh leaves, dressed with a citrus vinaigrette.
‘Rory caught it this morning,’ he said, with a hint of a twinkle in his eye. ‘If I hadn’t helped him untangle the propellor, we’d have had no fresh shellfish today.’
‘I’ll let you know if it was worth it,’ Lily said, trying to sound jokey.
‘I’ll await your verdict.’
‘Well?’ he asked, returning a while later to clear her empty plate.
‘Totally worth the wait. It was so sweet and delicate. I rarely eat seafood in London but that was a treat.’
‘Tarragon chicken next?’
‘Sounds good.’
While he was in the kitchen, Lily wandered around the room, noting the tealights on the tables in their teal ceramic holders glazed with an imprint of wavy fronds of seaweed. There were prints on the walls; more contemporary artwork interspersed with a few photographs of, she presumed, islanders of the past. They were standing next to small boats or hauling in nets, the hardship of their lives etched on strained faces.
‘Here we go!’
Her spirits were lifted by the fragrant aroma of herbs that accompanied Sam when he re-entered the dining room with a plate of chicken in a creamy sauce, fresh new potatoes and cavolo nero.
‘Enjoy!’ he said in his best host fashion before he headed back to the kitchen.
‘Wait,’ Lily said. ‘Aren’t you going to eat?’
‘I’ll grab something in the kitchen.’
‘Oh. OK. It’s just that …’ She glanced around the empty room. ‘It feels a bit strange, sitting here, eating alone.’
‘You’re my guest. I can’t sit down at your table and start tucking in. I’ll fetch the wine.’
With that, he vanished again, leaving Lily alone with her tarragon chicken. She pictured him standing in the kitchen, eating scraps like a kitchen maid. The thought made her smile: he was about as far from a kitchen maid as you could get.
Music tinkled out of the speaker – some generic classical stuff that made her feel like she was a guest in Downton Abbey. It lent a rather stiff and formal air to the meal: like dining with the Beast in his castle, except Sam was the post-transformation version.
Perhaps on the journey here, when he was dishevelled and grumpy, he might have qualified for beastly status. Now, he was simply gorgeous and trying to be more pleasant, although Lily was convinced it didn’t come naturally to him. He really wasn’t the right type of person for front of house.
