The summer Kit died. The summer we lost everything. Goodbye for now, Ethan. See you later.’
And she turned away from this god-handsome man who she had idolised as a girl and walked as fast as she could in the biting wind, back to Swanhaven and the world she had created for herself when everything around her was crumbled and destroyed.
CHAPTER THREE
‘HOW about this one?’ Mari asked as she tapped Rosa on the arm, then pointed at the laptop screen. ‘“Looking for a grumpy old man to nag? Try Hire a Haggard. Smart men aged sixty-plus. Guaranteed to last a good couple of hours if fed and watered. Dancing and friskiness at your own risk.”’
Rosa put down her knitting and peered at the head and shoulders photos of older men displayed on the screen. Her face lit up with a stunned grin. ‘That. Is totally perfect. I hadn’t thought about renting a wrinkly. We can tell Aunt Alice that we’ve organised a male escort for the evening. She’ll be thrilled! And at seventy-nine a man of sixty-plus has to count as a toy boy. Valentine or no Valentine.’
Mari grinned back and winked. ‘I live to serve. A toy boy! I like the sound of that. Although the idea of a male escort might come as a bit of a shock to the more snooty members of the Swanhaven Yacht Club.’
‘They’ll survive,’ Rosa sniffed. ‘Besides, we only have the Valentine’s Day party once a year and Aunt Alice does manage the clubhouse. It’s only right and proper that she sets a fine example to the younger generation with a dapper date. Especially when my big sister has flown all the way back to Dorset especially for the big day. This calls for posh frocks. Shoes. Bags. Plastic baubles. The full works.’
She rubbed her hands together in delight, then looked hard at Mari over the top of her spectacles. ‘Unless of course you have a love slave hidden in the attic of your tiny flat, but there hasn’t been much evidence of that lately. Has there?’
‘Guilty as charged,’ Mari replied as she shut down her laptop, ‘but I have been a tad busy. As well you know.’
There was a snort before her sister answered. ‘Work, work. Travel, travel. What a pitiful excuse. Anyone would think that you actually preferred living in California to coming home to Swanhaven now and again.’
Mari stared back at her open-mouthed, then tutted several times before answering her baby sister. ‘Perish the thought. Why do you think I booked time out for the Valentine party this weekend?’ She smiled warmly before going on but her mouth closed slightly as she murmured in a lower voice, ‘I do feel guilty about leaving you here on your own to clear Mum’s things after the funeral. Thank you again for helping me out this last year. It hasn’t been easy.’
Rosa reached across and squeezed Mari’s hand before unfolding herself from her old squishy sofa and walking the few steps across to the picture window of her terraced cottage and the view down the cobbled lane towards Swanhaven harbour.
‘Aunt Alice has been making an effort to persuade me to spend more time with her at the club but things haven’t been the same, have they?’
Mari shuffled off the sofa and came to stare out of the window, her arm wrapped around her sister’s shoulders. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not the same at all.’ And they stood in silence, both gazing down towards the sea and the cliff path.
Directly across the lane was the parallel row of white-painted two-storey terraced houses which stretched down from the church and small primary school to the harbour and the yacht club, which served as the village meeting place. This was the temporary house which she had moved into with Rosa and their mother when they had to sell the home they adored. And here they still were, stuck.
‘Do you know, it’s almost ten years since we moved here? I still feel that I let her down, you know. About the house.’
Rosa turned and shook her head. ‘That’s ridiculous. Don’t do that to yourself. She was so proud of your success and how hard you were working to make it happen. I have no doubt about that whatsoever and I was here with her every day. You did the right thing.’
‘But I promised her, Rosa. I promised her that I would do whatever it took to get the house back for us. And she never lived to see that happen. And now our old house is finally up for sale when she’s not here to enjoy it.’
‘I know. But we tried. We really tried.’ Pain flashed across Rosa’s lovely face for a split second before she beamed across at Mari. ‘Of course there is one small news item that I have been keeping from you all day and the suspense is killing me. I can’t hold it in a minute longer.’
There was a groan and Mari’s shoulders dropped petulantly. ‘Please, not another walk around the harbour looking for dogs without coats so you can sell your wares,’ she whimpered. ‘It’s freezing out there! Jet lag. That’s it. I still have jet lag.’
‘Protest all you like, but I am determined to show off my talented computer guru of a sister to all and sundry.’ Rosa moved closer to Mari. ‘As far as this town goes, you are officially one of the local celebrities who have actually made good in the outside world.’
‘Me? A celebrity?’ Mari clutched the back of the nearest chair and pretended to faint at the idea. ‘I mend company servers and design tailor-made software systems, and design websites in my spare time,’ she finally managed to squeak. ‘That does not make me a celebrity. Believe me, the company head office is in California and the celebrity culture is alive and well.’
‘What can I say? Standards here have slipped. But not for much longer. Because there is something I have to tell you.’ A cunning smirk lifted one side of Rosa’s mouth and she waggled her eyebrows a couple of times before taking a breath and speaking so fast that her words all ran together. ‘Ethan Chandler is back in town and I really wanted you to meet him on your own at the harbour but you haven’t and he is probably going to be at the club tonight so you should know about it before you get there.’
She sucked in a deep breath, chest heaving. ‘There. I’m glad I finally got that out. It’s been a nightmare keeping Ethan a secret for these past few days but I was so sure that you would see him around and it would all be fine. And why are you shaking your head like that?’
Mari took hold of her sister’s shoulders and forced her to make eye contact.
‘I saw Ethan this afternoon on the way back from my walk. He was coming into harbour in a boat smaller than your bath tub and he frightened the living daylights out of me. There. Satisfied?’
She gave Rosa’s shoulders a gentle shake before dropping her hands back onto the chair. ‘What were you thinking? You should have told me.’
There was a hiss as Rosa bared her teeth. ‘I know, but you were always so intense when he was around. And when Kit died … you were so hard on him, Mari. And now, with all of this media interest … Stay there; I kept the article for you.’
Rosa dived back into the living room and rooted around in a basket overflowing with yarn, knitting paraphernalia, old newspapers and unopened mail until she finally found the magazine she was looking for.
She flicked through the pages, her eyebrows tight with concentration, and then she grinned with delight and held up the page with a thumb and forefinger at each corner and waved it from side to side in front of Mari’s face.
Splashed across two pages of the colour supplement of a national newspaper was a stunning photograph taken of a racing yacht in full sail on a choppy sea under hot blue skies. And standing at the helm was a tall imposing man, broad-shouldered, tanned, with handsome features and body language that screamed of total confidence in what he was doing. Ethan was wearing an impossibly clean white T-shirt with a designer logo on the breast, navy shorts and baseball cap. No shoes.
His tanned sinewy legs were spread for stability, his bright blue eyes focused on the sea in front of him, alert and intelligent, and his arms stretched out on the wheel. Mari scanned his left hand for a wedding ring without even realising what she was doing, but it was covered up with an article praising him for