be so underhand, tricking Will with fake generosity. She had to make it up to them somehow, even if they never knew her motivation. She would do something that showed she was part of the community, that she could enter into the spirit as they had done, and that she appreciated the kindness they’d shown her when she returned to Campion Bay, even if Molly had had to remind her of it.
With a positive sequence of events lodged firmly in her head, and her palms only a little bit sweaty, Robin slipped on her ballet pumps and quietly left the house.
The curtains of number four were drawn, but there was a slender line of golden light at one side of the window, where one had been pulled too far over. Robin took a deep breath, climbed the stairs and lifted the knocker, banging it down twice. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease her anxiety, wanting to appear calm in front of him.
After a few moments she heard footsteps approaching from inside. The latch clicked and the door swung inwards, Will’s tall frame appearing in shadow, silhouetted against the hall light. He immediately turned away from her and started to close the door.
‘Will, wait—’
‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Please.’ She took a step forward, placing her foot over the threshold.
She could just make out his glance towards her foot, his face creasing in irritation as he yanked the door back open.
‘Please, Will,’ Robin tried again. ‘Let me explain.’
‘Molly’s text did that perfectly well, thanks. I have to get on.’ He looked at her foot again, but Robin stood her ground. He took a step towards her, his sigh loud, his face suddenly bathed in the glow from the street light.
Robin stared at him. She couldn’t help it. Only the day before, he had seemed relaxed, happy, laughing with her as they ran back to the guesthouse, the press of his lips so tender as he’d kissed her.
Now, his hair was, again, damp, as if he’d not long emerged from the shower, but he hadn’t shaved, and the dark smudges under his eyes told of a sleepless night. His expression was dark, closed off, and his hands, which had so recently caressed her face, were bunched into fists.
Robin swallowed. ‘Molly’s text didn’t tell the truth,’ she said. ‘She’s my friend, we have jokes and we— It seemed awful, I know that. It seemed like there was this whole, organised plan—’
‘You admitted it.’ Will gave a sharp, humourless laugh. ‘You told me that’s what happened, that you’d all been in on it together, so that you could stop your boyfriend from buying my aunt’s house and messing up your seafront. Or don’t you remember confessing all that to me?’
Robin winced at the anger in his voice, unsure which thing to refute first. She wanted to move her foot, to get comfortable – her thigh was beginning to ache – but she didn’t want to give him the opportunity to close the door before she’d said all she needed to.
‘I was wrong about so many things,’ she said. ‘I’ve spoken to Molly and there was no campaign. I thought she’d organised one – I thought she’d asked Ashley and Stefano to make you feel welcome, but she didn’t. You were a new face on the road, Tabitha’s nephew, and they were just being neighbourly. They did those things of their own accord.’
A flicker of confusion passed across his features. He looked so weary, and Robin couldn’t imagine that, even if he hadn’t been cross with her, he would have had a comfortable night in Tabitha’s house. From what she could see of the hall it was still so disorganised, so full of dust.
‘So it turns out you were a one-woman publicity campaign? Doing it all by yourself, thinking you were part of something the whole street was involved in?’
‘No!’ she said. ‘That’s not it at all! I didn’t like Molly’s idea. I wouldn’t have been involved even if it had been real. I wanted to help you, to get to know you. What happened yesterday, I had wanted … that, I had wanted to spend time with you. I’ve loved your company, being with you, from the beginning. It wasn’t anything to do with Tim or the house.’
He shook his head quickly and ran a hand over his stubble. She heard the familiar sound of paws on floorboards and Darcy appeared, her head peering round Will’s legs. The Cavapoo yelped at Robin and bounded forward, her body vibrating with happiness. Robin stroked the dog, feeling instantly soothed by her unconditional affection. She wondered if Will would object, but he barely seemed to notice.
‘How am I meant to believe that, after what you told me yesterday?’ he asked.
‘I got it wrong, Will. I thought there was a campaign, I thought that was really happening, and I didn’t like it but I – I didn’t want to tell you; I didn’t want you to feel that you weren’t welcome, that the friendship offered to you was cynical, calculating.’
She glanced behind her as footsteps and voices echoed into the dusk, people passing on their way to the town centre. Will looked over her shoulder and Robin wondered for a second if he was going to invite her in, but he didn’t.
‘So,’ he said, his eyes creasing at the edges. ‘You thought there was a campaign, but there wasn’t? But you didn’t tell me what you thought was going on, or that your childhood sweetheart had designs on my aunt’s house, and had been sniffing around it even before I arrived? You knew all this, and you kept it from me while I confided in you about my dad, about Tabitha’s past. You reeled me in, making me trust you, while all the time you were hiding things from me, being loyal to your ex, who – let’s face it – doesn’t seem to be fully out of the picture. Is that about right?’
‘No, Will! Tim and I—’
‘Have you been playing us off against each other while you try to decide who you want next door?’
‘That couldn’t be further from the truth!’ She felt panic well up inside her, tried to remember Molly’s words, the ones she had used to explain the simple misunderstanding. ‘Nothing I’ve done has been false. I care about you. Tim and I – it’s over! It has been for well over a decade.’
He stared at her, his green eyes narrowed and, somehow, duller, while Darcy sat silently next to him. Robin was struck all over again by how much she cared about them both, despite their short acquaintance. She couldn’t lose them.
‘You lied to me, Robin,’ he said. His voice was quieter, defeated rather than angry. ‘You kept Tim’s plans from me, and you believed that your friends were tricking me into staying. It doesn’t matter that they weren’t – you didn’t tell me about it. You’ve been keeping me in the dark about everything, and I—’ His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. ‘I can’t trust you. Please.’ He gestured towards her foot, and Robin, her hope fading at his last words, stepped back. Her leg had gone dead, the pins and needles catching her off balance, and she put a hand on the wall to steady herself.
‘I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,’ she said, as he started to close the door. ‘At least come back to Starcross – you can’t be getting any sleep staying here. Will, I—’ But it was too late, and she found herself speaking to the black paint of Tabitha’s front door. She listened to the footsteps receding inside and then,
