Cressida McLaughlin - The Once in a Blue Moon Guesthouse - The perfect feelgood romance

‘You’ll sell it?’ She hadn’t meant to sound so stunned, but Will looked at her closely.

‘I’m going into this blind,’ he said. ‘I know nothing about Campion Bay, about what’s in my aunt’s house and really, I have no clue what I’m going to do. I only know it falls to me, and the longer I leave it the worse things will get. Hence the impressive leak.’

‘I’ll get your coffee,’ Robin said quickly. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.’

‘Hey’ – he reached his hand out towards her, palm up – ‘why not make enough coffee for both of us? You can give me a crash course in Campion Bay – if you’ve got time.’

Robin smiled, relieved that he hadn’t taken offence at her intrusiveness. ‘Give me five minutes.’

When she sat down, Robin’s knees, clad in orange skinny jeans, briefly pressed against his before he moved them.

‘You don’t seem too happy that I might sell the house,’ he said, after Robin had added milk to both mugs.

Robin kept her eyes focused on the table. ‘It’s not up to me,’ she said. ‘It surprised me, that’s all. Tabitha has owned the house as far back as I can remember, and then, after she died, it stayed empty.’ She glanced at him but his gaze was steady, no flicker of emotion at the mention of his aunt’s death. ‘I hadn’t thought about what happens next,’ she added, pushing her coffee shop discussion with Tim from her mind.

‘You and me both.’ Will rested his elbows on the table. ‘I’ve known about the house – that it would fall to me – ever since her will was read, but this is the first chance I’ve had to come down here and take a look at it.’

‘What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?’

He pressed his lips together, seeming to weigh something up before he answered. ‘I work – worked – at a historic house, in Kent.’

‘Doing what? It – you don’t own it, do you?’

Will shook his head, giving her a rueful smile. ‘No, nothing like that. I do a bit of everything – help to manage the estate, odd jobs, pitching in as a tour guide. It’s not a large house, not English Heritage or National Trust, but it’s open to the public so there’s always work to keep on top of.’

Robin tried to imagine him wearing a Barbour jacket and Hunter wellies, striding across a manicured lawn with a lurcher at his feet. She couldn’t do it, and not least because when she tried to picture it, the lurcher was immediately replaced with Darcy, scurrying to try and keep up with Will’s long strides, unprepared to let him out of her sight. ‘But you said worked . You’ve quit?’

Will sighed, his chin dropping to his chest. ‘It’s obviously not something I can do freelance. I’ve known for a while that I’d need to come and sort out Tabitha’s house and it – it was suddenly the right time.’

‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘I did. No two days were the same, always a new challenge, always meeting new people. Being a guide is fun, as long as the guests are vaguely interested. You can measure your success by how many of them are still maintaining eye-contact at the end of the tour.’

‘Did you make things up?’ Robin took a sip of her coffee but it was too hot, and she spluttered, spilling some over her hand. She put her mug on the table and sucked at the scald.

‘Here,’ Will said, pressing a paper napkin into her free hand. ‘Are you OK?’

Robin nodded, stopped sucking the injury like a small child and wiped at it with the napkin.

‘Make things up?’ he asked. ‘You mean on the tours?’

‘You know, embellish the stories, add a few more juicy details.’

Will shook his head slowly. ‘I can’t believe you’d even ask that. Of course not. People come to find out about the history of the house, not hear some sensation-filled fabrication.’

Robin felt a flush of shame, but she could see that he was amused by the suggestion. She took another, tentative sip of her coffee. ‘At least your love of old buildings will help you today,’ she said softly.

Will winced, lines forming at the edges of his eyes. ‘Clearing out an empty house isn’t quite the same thing.’

‘So do you know how long you’ll be down here? Will you have to find another job, or can you focus on next door?’ Robin knew that she was firing too many questions at him, that it was none of her business, but she had such a strong desire to know. Now he was sitting at her table, he could give her more insight into Tabitha and into her house, which suddenly seemed the object of so many people’s attention.

Will leaned down to stroke the top of Darcy’s head. ‘I have no idea how long it’ll take, but if it stretches into months, if I’m making slow progress, then I’ll have to start looking for something round here. I knew I’d need space away from everything to make a proper start. I didn’t want the pressure of employers waiting for me, however reasonable they were about it.’

‘I can understand that,’ she said quietly. She watched him sip his coffee, drawn to his forearms, tanned and with a dusting of pale brown hair. It looked like he spent a lot of time outside, and Robin could picture him leading a group of awed tourists across a beautiful garden, an impressive stately home behind them – it fitted much better than the Barbour and the wellies, though Darcy was still in place, trotting loyally alongside. He had the presence to be a tour guide. She could see him commanding everyone, holding their attention with his green eyes. Especially, she thought wryly, the females of the party.

‘Have you run the guesthouse for long?’ Will asked, startling her out of her reverie.

‘Nearly twenty-four hours,’ Robin said, laughing at Will’s confused expression. ‘It reopened officially yesterday, with me at the helm. My mum and dad ran it for years, but they’ve moved to France and … well, now it’s my turn.’

‘Wow.’ Will’s eyebrows went skywards. ‘So this morning was your first time cooking everyone breakfast? You look like you’ve barely broken a sweat.’

‘I helped Mum and Dad out over the years, so I was more prepared than someone starting from scratch, and I’ve got my friend’s daughter working with me. Your breakfast is actually an Instagram star.’ She took out her phone and showed him.

‘That’s an accolade I never thought I’d get – devourer of a famous breakfast.’

‘You’d better remember this moment,’ she grinned.

‘Pretty sure I will,’ he said quietly, and her smile faltered under the weight of his stare. ‘Unflappable even when I turned up at midnight on your first day. But it must have been much more of a disruption than I imagined. I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologizing. I had a room, I was still awake, and you didn’t put me out at all. Though I can’t claim to have been entirely unflappable.’

Now it was Will’s turn to grin. ‘Maybe not. The room is great. Very calming. The pinprick lights especially. Did you know that if you stare at them for too long it looks like they’re twinkling?’

‘I didn’t,’ she said. ‘But maybe that suggests it’s not a good idea? I don’t want you suing me for eye damage. I haven’t actually spent much time in there, it was the last one we finished and it went right up to the wire. What did you think it was going to be like – when I told you my rooms were unique? You didn’t want to say last night.’