from the plant nursery she’d worked for during her vacations also proved she must be used to hard work in all weathers.
Jess led the way out of the terminal and through the passengers on the car park. Outside, half a dozen jovial drivers shepherded the new arrivals towards the minibuses that would take them to their accommodation on St Mary’s or down to the quay to the smaller ‘off islands.’
‘How was your flight?’ she asked while they walked towards their lift.
Gabriella pulled a face. ‘Rather bumpy, I’m afraid.’
‘It can be interesting, but at least you got here. It’s not unusual for flights to be cancelled.’
Gabriella’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’
‘In the winter, mostly,’ said Jess, glossing over the fact that the isles could be completely cut off by fog and storms at any time of year.
‘Oh well, I survived on this occasion at least.’ Gabriella’s smile reappeared, this time for slightly longer, lighting up green eyes, flecked with gold. Jess detected a keenness behind them. She’d already noticed that Gabriella took in everything that was going on around her, as if she was storing away a mental snapshot for future reference.
Jess decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. It was no use judging someone on a few minutes’ acquaintance, but if she’d been a betting woman, she’d have staked fifty quid on the flower farm’s newest employee not lasting the week.
Personally, she really hoped Gabriella would stay the course. The farm needed extra seasonal workers for the harvest of early narcissi that bloomed in the mild climate at the start of September, long before any varieties on the mainland. Over the summer, the Godrevys also let out a few holiday chalets and there were also goats and a small beef herd that needed tending to. Thankfully, the farm animals were the domain of Jess’s mother, Anna, who left Jess and Will in charge of the flower growing and holiday business.
‘There’s our taxi and chauffeur.’ Jess pointed towards a very tall, well-built man in his mid-thirties who was leaning against a golf buggy, chatting to two elderly, but sprightly, sisters. They were all laughing and one of the ladies gave the man a hug.
‘Are they friends of yours?’ Gabriella asked, pulling her sunglasses over her eyes and peering at the group.
‘You could say that. That’s Una and Phyllis Barton who run a B&B on Gull Island. The driver’s Adam, my … um … boyfriend.’
Her toes curled at the description, because it sounded so teenage and she was way past that at thirty-five, but what else could she call Adam? They had been dating – and sleeping together – for six months now, although they’d known each other for almost two years. They weren’t living together yet, although Jess was pretty sure that the next step was imminent, given the heavy hints that Adam had been dropping about her moving in to his place.
Phyllis and Una roared with laughter at something Adam had said, and Una batted him coquettishly on the arm. Jess had often teased him that the Bartons were his personal fan club, but now she and Adam were a couple, he’d joked that only Jess would have him.
It wasn’t true. It was so not true. Adam had plenty of offers from both sexes, locals and tourists. No wonder. At six feet four, he stood out from the crowd in every way. His collar-length curly hair refused all attempts to be tamed into submission so he left it to the mercy of the elements. He was a year older than Jess and his lifestyle kept him in great shape. When he wasn’t lugging parcels around as postman or volunteering with the island’s part-time fire service, he was playing sport; rugby in the winter and rowing over the summer. Appearances could definitely be deceptive, thought Jess, sliding a glance at Gabriella again. Take Adam. No one wanted to face him in a scrum, but he was a big softy underneath.
‘I’ll pop round and give you a hand with the gate after fire training on Tuesday!’ Adam called after the Barton sisters. ‘Don’t miss your flights and have a good time on the mainland.’
‘Thanks, Adam!’
With a wave to Jess and curious glances at Gabriella, the Bartons scuttled off into the terminal, clutching identical tapestry bags. They’d doubtless be speculating about who the new arrival was all the way to Cornwall and back, thought Jess, but her attention was all for Adam. His tawny eyes lit up when he spotted her and her stomach did a little flip when he walked over and kissed her on the cheek.
He smiled at Gabriella. ‘You found her among the crowds trying to escape then?’ he said to Jess.
‘Of course. Gabriella Carter, meet Adam Pengelly.’
Adam held out a large hand. ‘Welcome to Scilly. There’s no getting away from us now.’
Jess laughed. ‘Not without digging a tunnel to Land’s End.’
‘Or Canada if you want to head in the other direction,’ said Adam as Gabriella took his hand gingerly.
‘But I’m sure you won’t want to do that,’ Jess added hastily, not entirely sure it was true, judging by the doubt in her new recruit’s eyes. She had a feeling that if you’d given Gabriella a spade she’d have started digging right there, but then again, if she couldn’t get used to a bit of banter and teasing, she wouldn’t last five minutes in the close-knit farm team.
Gabriella peered up into Adam’s face. He was at least a foot taller than her and built like the semi-professional rugby player he used to be before he’d moved to Scilly from his native Cumbria. Jess bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the apprehension in Gabriella’s eyes. That imposing physique and height must have been quite intimidating to strangers.
‘Off we go then. Can I help with your bags, Gabriella?’ Adam offered.
‘Thanks … and please, just “Gaby” is absolutely fine. Only my granny ever calls me Gabriella. It’s such a mouthful, isn’t it?’ She smiled again, which lit up her expressive eyes, but there was a touch of steel in her voice that took Jess by surprise. Maybe she might last a month rather than a week.
‘Gaby, it is then,’ said Adam. ‘Your carriage awaits.’
Gaby stared at the golf buggy as if it were a toy car. Maybe she’d been expecting a Rolls-Royce.
Adam grinned. ‘It’s safe … Ish.’
Jess batted Adam on the arm and he mimed an ‘ow’.
‘Ignore him. It’s totally safe. We don’t keep a van on the main island because we’ve no use for it and we use a local firm to collect the flowers from the quay to bring them to the airport. We borrow this buggy off a friend to get around St Mary’s when we need to. You’ll see lots of them about. Lots of tourists use them if they can’t or don’t want to do too much walking.’
‘Jump in,’ said Adam. He picked up Gaby’s case as if it were a handbag and slotted it next to her in the rear of the buggy.
Jess climbed into the front next to him.
‘Hold on tight. The roads are busy,’ said Adam as they drove the buggy down the hill towards the quay. There were about two cars in sight.
‘Will it take long to get to the harbour?’ Gaby asked.
‘Five minutes tops, unless there’s a traffic jam at the quay,’ Adam replied.
‘He’s joking, but it could be busy as the Islander ferry has just docked,’ said Jess. ‘How are the Bartons?’ she asked Adam as he steered the buggy around a large pothole.
‘The ladies are fine, but their guesthouse is in a bit of a state. I just offered to lend them a hand repairing the garden gate. The sheep keep getting into the allotment patch and scoffing the produce. I can fit it in after fire training on Tuesday.’
This was typical of Adam. He’d help anyone and put himself out in the process. He had no ego and although he was sociable with his mates and customers, he was also shy around women. Jess liked him all the more for that