nodded, cursing the Campion Bay rumour mill, though Molly had reminded her it was still in full swing, and she shouldn’t be surprised that Tim knew about her plans. ‘It’s a work in progress at the moment. I’m refurbishing the rooms. Bookings are always down in the winter, so we can concentrate on one room at a time, working around any guests we do have.’
‘Your parents are still here?’
‘They’re moving to France in April.’ She found she was stuck on a constant nod, the encounter having more of an effect than she had been prepared for. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about him but the reality was altogether different, somehow exhilarating and claustrophobic all at once. He’d cheated on her, had seemed almost proud of it at the time, and yet here he was without a hint of embarrassment or shame, acting as if it was only the distance that had ended their relationship.
‘Robin, you look incredible. Let me buy you a coffee, I’d love to hear how you’ve been.’
‘You don’t have to get back to work?’
‘Not for a while.’ His gaze lingered on her, his smile hinting at some secret between them, his ability to make her seem like the most important person in the world returning in a flash. ‘Half an hour, Robs. You can’t deny me that.’
Robin looked away, watched a seagull strutting down the street as if on patrol, and realized that she couldn’t say no. She wanted to hear about Tim as much as he seemed to want to know her news. ‘Half an hour,’ she agreed. ‘But only if you take me somewhere they have Bakewell tart.’
Tim laughed; a loud, open laugh that Robin had always loved. ‘It’s a deal. You haven’t changed, Robs. Not one bit.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ she said, but she let him take her arm and lead her up Seagull Street towards an independent café called Cool Beans, and tried not think about how the closeness of him was making her feel.
‘I can’t believe you’ve brought me to a café called Cool Beans,’ she said after they’d sat in rounded, chocolate-brown leather armchairs, and the waiter had taken their order. Their table was low and very small, almost an afterthought, and Robin felt exposed without anything significant between them. She made a mental note that her guesthouse shouldn’t lose sight of practicality for the sake of style. Not that this place was stylish, but it definitely thought it was.
‘Hey,’ Tim said, eyes wide with mock hurt. ‘You set the parameters. This is the only place in town that’s guaranteed to do you a slice of Bakewell tart, and it’s good tart, too.’
‘The Campion Bay Teashop does Bakewell tart. Roxy and Ashley were telling me that they make all their own cakes and pastries.’
‘The place just along from you?’ Tim wrinkled his nose and sat back in his chair, elbows on the armrests. Robin could see the shimmer of silver cufflinks as his shirt protruded from the expensive grey suit. ‘We’re in town, and I don’t have time to head out to the seafront.’
‘So you do have to go back to work? I heard that you were doing well, that you’ve moved up to junior partner in your property firm.’
He ran a hand over his jaw, but he couldn’t hide the smile. ‘Things couldn’t be better, if I’m honest. I’m working on my own portfolio of sites, looking to develop them, bring Campion Bay a bit more up to date.’
‘You’re not a fan of the quaint seaside feel any more?’
‘Quaint is fine, but there are too many buildings – domestic and commercial – that are unlived in, unloved, and it has an effect on the whole area. Malcolm’s firm is working hard to eradicate those, to turn them back into desirable accommodation. I’m proud to be a part of that.’
‘Not least because it’s lucrative, I’ll bet.’ She gave him a quick smile, but Tim wasn’t offended. He never was. He was entirely sure of himself and of his place in the world, and wasn’t afraid to let people know it.
He spread his arms wide. ‘I’m not going to apologize for being successful. And isn’t that what you’re doing, just on a smaller scale? Taking your parents’ fading guesthouse, renovating it, smartening it up and looking to make a profit?’
‘Yes, but without me doing all that the guesthouse would close.’
‘And these buildings would become dilapidated if we did nothing, having an effect on adjoining properties. It’s no different.’
Robin narrowed her eyes, but she knew he was right. ‘Is that what you’re planning with number four Goldcrest Road?’
He gave her an amused, almost admiring look. ‘Nothing’s been confirmed about that site yet.’
‘But it’s on your radar?’
‘We’re looking into who owns it, seeing what options we have. And, if I’m honest, the thought of working on the building next to yours has moved it near the top of my wish list. But no decisions have been made, as yet.’
He was as charming and confident as ever, and despite the alarming admission that he wanted to get his claws into Tabitha’s house, Robin felt a tug of the old emotions, the headiness of first love that, a long time ago, had been strong enough to knock her sideways. As their coffee and cakes arrived – Tim had opted for a slice of brownie that looked about as impressive as the table – she noticed that the initials TL were inscribed on his cufflinks, and also, confirming what Molly had told her, that he had no ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. Tim thanked the waiter and turned just in time to see her looking. His gaze was penetrating, a hint of a smile on his lips.
‘Tell me about London,’ he said. ‘What made you come back here after all this time? Your plan was always to stay in the big smoke. Unless of course you couldn’t resist your feelings for me any longer?’
Robin stuck her fork in the Bakewell tart and tried to organize her thoughts. Someone cycled past, ringing their bell to scatter the seagulls. He was being flippant, she knew, but she felt the flush of her cheeks all the same. ‘We didn’t exactly end on the best of terms, did we?’ She met his gaze with her own. She wasn’t going to let him overwhelm her. She waited for a flicker of unease, but none came.
‘And if we hadn’t,’ he said, leaning forwards, ‘we’d still be together today, nearly fifteen years later.’
‘You sound like you actually regret what you did.’ She sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim.
‘I do. Seeing you again, Robs, here in Campion Bay, it …’ He shook his head. ‘I’d heard you were back, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been looking forward to us meeting again, to seeing you in the flesh.’
Robin’s stomach fluttered unhelpfully. She’d been lost in Tim’s blue-eyed gaze and his carefully crafted compliments for five years. At the time it had been the most real thing in her life, but after what he’d done to her, it had all seemed like an act. He was gorgeous and charismatic and successful; he had many good things going for him, but she had to remind herself of the negatives. She had to remind her senses that feeling betrayed and heartbroken made the rest worthless.
‘It’s
