Page 6 of Second Chance Summer
When Lily had first started her business, she couldn’t have dreamed of visiting the Caribbean. Now she could afford it, she didn’t have the time. She’d never been in a helicopter either, though she’d thought it looked glamorous in a James Bond kind of way.
It wasn’t.
She’d had her eyes tightly closed since the moment the pilot had said they were ready for take-off, but she’d still felt the sickening feeling of the ground dropping away as the machine rose, improbably, into the sky. Only once had she glanced out of the window to find grey churning waves seemingly inches below.
‘Quick, look!’
At a prod on her arm, Lily’s eyes flew open. The woman beside her must literally be screaming because, by reading her lips and following her extravagant gestures, Lily could just about follow what she was saying. ‘There’s the Eastern Isles! And the trees in Tresco Abbey Gardens! I always know I’m here when I see those!’
She heaved a rapturous sigh as if she’d sighted the end of the rainbow. ‘What a shame it’s a grotty day. To be honest, I didn’t think we’d even take off. I heard the check-in guys say we were at the absolute limit for safe travel.’
‘They saidwhat?’ Lily shouted back, hoping she’d misheard the last part.
The woman laughed but her next words were inaudible. She poked a finger at the window. ‘Oh, that’s Stark.’
‘Where? What? Which one?’
‘You missed it,’ she said, laughing again.
Five minutes later, a jolt signified that today, at least, Lily would spend another day on Planet Earth. The noise ended abruptly and she was climbing down the steps into a rough field with a shed at one side.
Her fellow passengers forged ahead like spaniels let off the lead, chattering excitedly. They all seemed to know exactly where they were heading. Dressed in walking gear and trainers, they made Lily feel slightly self-conscious in her blazer, skinny jeans and loafers. It was her weekend uniform in London, perfect for casual brunch in a café – not that she had time for many brunches, casual or otherwise – but much too smart for hanging around a wild and windy airfield.
Lily trudged behind them, taking in the grey sky and the shed that served as the heliport on Tresco Island, her ‘gateway to Stark’ according to the website.
Inside the shed, the other passengers were already collecting their bags and climbing into a fleet of green golf buggies. Richie had told her that the Stark Island Retreat reception team would be waiting for her at the heliport ready for her onward transfer to the resort.
One by one, the other passengers whizzed off in their electric buggies until only Lily stood in the shed, with her bag for company. She whipped out her compact mirror, aquirky hand-made one that had been produced by a talented Lily Loves client and was part of a new collection of make-up accessories recently added to the portfolio. Her face was shockingly pale but a quick application of a lip and cheek tint helped to make her look and feel more human and ready to meet the retreat welcome team who’d doubtless turn up at any moment with apologies and warm smiles.
Five minutes later a weather-beaten man carrying a spade strolled into the shack and stared at Lily as if she was an alien.
‘Hello there. Are you all on your own? Where are you staying, love?’
‘Stark Island,’ Lily said tightly.
After a moment of incredulity, he threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘I don’t think that’s likely, m’dear. No one’s stayed on Stark for nigh on two centuries.’
‘Ah, but I’m at the brand-new retreat,’ Lily said, trying not to let her exhaustion and travel sickness get the better of her politeness.
‘Newretreat?’ The man scrunched up his face. ‘I dunno––’ Suddenly, he nodded and grinned. ‘You must mean Sam Teague’s place. Is that what he’s calling it? Hmm. Last thing I heard, he was still trying to finish it. Well, I’m sure he’ll be along in a minute. I must get on, I only came up here from the gardens to fill in some rabbit holes on the landing pad. Enjoy your stay. I hope you don’t mind the odd ghost.’
He gazed up at the sky. ‘Looks like the fog’s on its way. Shame, you should have been here yesterday.’
With that, he sauntered off towards the helipad, whistling to himself.
Lily stared into the gloom of the airfield. Minutes before, she’d been able to make out the grey sea. Now, all that was visible was low cloud that seemed to be creeping towards her menacingly. Moisture was already clinging to her clothes and hair. How could it possibly beJune?
Still trying to finish it … I hope you don’t mind the odd ghost.Lily pushed aside a feeling of unease. This guy must be winding her up. She didn’t believe in ghosts and, in fact, they were now the least of her concerns about Stark Island Retreat.
OK, Richie had admitted the retreat was having a ‘soft opening’ prior to its official launch later in the summer, but that had made it sound even more exclusive and quiet. The fact it wasn’t officially open also meant they’d been able to fit her in at short notice – and at a price so low Richie found it hard to believe.
‘The view looks incredible on the website,’ he had enthused after he’d booked her a two-week stay in an ocean-view suite. ‘Your cottage is called Cowrie. How cute is that?’
Lily had had to agree. Stark Island Retreat did indeed look beautiful, with its stone-and-wood cottages, a mix of Old and New England that seemed to blend in perfectly with the dunes and low grassy hills of the island. There were photos of shells and translucent water, of driftwood and footprints on bone-white sand.
It looked almost too good to be true.
And what was Lily’s first rule of business success? If it looks too good to be true, it almost certainly is.
