Page 52 of Second Chance Summer
‘When the first tourist boat arrives, it’s like a pack of seagulls fighting over a chip wrapper, but I like to be busy. My bank balance needs it!’
Elspeth moved to a nearby table, taking an order for breakfast from six people with walking poles and rucksacks.
Lily finished her mocha and wrapped half the brownie in a serviette to enjoy later.
It felt odd to see Elspeth and her team buzzing around her, serving customers, while she simply sat and enjoyed the view. She thought of her team working away in London … should she check in?
No. She had to resist the urge. Richie would call or message if there was anything urgent. Instead, she took a selfie on the quayside and sent it to her parents and Étienne, to show them she was fine and could now communicate with them when she wasn’t on Stark.
A few hours later, Lily returned to the café, having explored the island of Bryher. She’d watched the waves crashingagainst the rugged northern cliffs and sat in the sun on the white sands of Rushy Bay. She’d also called in at the post office and gallery, buying several postcards and two cute ceramic baby seals for Amelie and Tania.
She wrote her cards while eating some of Elspeth’s fresh fish tacos, which were worthy of a five-star review. A couple with two Labradors had chatted to her and Lily had managed to smile when one of the dogs licked her hand enthusiastically.
She’d always been a little afraid of dogs after an incident when a large and snarling one had trapped her inside some public toilets in the local park as a child. Her parents had had cats, all of whom she’d loved, and the twins were always trying to choose guinea pigs and kittens for her from rescue sites.
Lily was far too busy to keep a pet in her London flat, even if she’d been allowed.
When the Labradors left, she went inside for an espresso, admiring the artwork on the walls. Some of it, though unsigned, bore Morven’s poignant stamp while other works had the artists’ names on them.
Lily waited for her coffee at the counter and spoke to Barney, a pink-haired Kiwi on a gap year.
‘Who made the cutlery holders?’ she said, pointing to the ceramic pots full of serviette-wrapped cutlery. They’d been glazed in deep green and teal and bore an impression of seaweed fronds.
‘Mate of Morven’s, I think.’ Barney handed over her drink, an expression like a gloomy bloodhound’s on his face.‘Damien? No. Damon. I always get confused with that kid inThe Omen– the one who’s the son of Satan.’
Lily bit her lip to avoid spluttering with laughter. ‘Thanks, Barney,’ she said, leaving a tip before heading back out into the sun.
When she sat down, she saw Morven on the opposite side of the terrace, deep in conversation with a tall, slender, very beautiful young man of around her age. He had the brooding, angsty looks that were scouted by modelling agencies in London. That was unlikely to happen here on Bryher. But in any case, he and Morven looked thick as thieves, as her mum might say.
Lily wondered if the teenager was Morven’s friend Damon who’d made the pots for the resort. If so, he was very talented. Should Lily tell him?
Before she could even think about getting up to do so, Morven spotted her and scowled before pulling her friend by the elbow and leading him away from the café, as if Lily had the plague and he might catch it.
She sighed behind her espresso cup. Part of Project New Lily included a vow to be kinder to her fellow men, but it was proving to be more difficult with some people than others. And after what she’d heard about Sam and the mysterious Rhiannon, perhaps she needed to be more understanding ofhim.
Rhiannon must be quite a woman to leave him broken after all this time.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The following day, while Sam had arranged to meet up with his business partner Aaron for lunch in the pub on Tresco, Lily had gone for a day out in ‘the metropolis’ as she called Hugh Town, the small capital of St Mary’s.
To Sam’s great relief there had been no further accidents or incidents on Stark and he was beginning to think that they would both get through the rest of her stay unscathed.
He and Aaron had just demolished two large ham sandwiches and his friend took an appreciative sip of his second pint.
Sam hid a smile at the sight of flecks of foam in his friend’s beard. He didn’t give a toss about appearances. His mate was a ‘unit’, with archetypal sea captain looks that he cultivated with relish. He and Sam had been to school together and rowed in the Bryher gig crew until Sam had embarked on the renovations.
After chatting about boats and work and rugby, Aaron asked if there was any sign of Nate coming back.
‘Not at the moment,’ Sam said, having wondered the same thing several times a day recently. Perhaps his friend had asked to meet him precisely to give him a chance to talk about this.
Aaron nodded thoughtfully. ‘How’s Morven coping?’
‘She’s not, if I’m honest. She feels abandoned and I don’t blame her.’
‘Nate needs to step up – if you don’t mind me giving my opinion.’
‘He does and I don’t.’
