Autumn at the Star and Sixpence (6 page)

Sam stared at him. She’d never seen him unsure before; Nick Borrowdale was usually supremely confident in everything he did. ‘Why would I mind? I love having you here and God knows,
you’re good for business.’

‘Yes, but I’ve never turned up uninvited before,’ he said. ‘I’ve booked the room for tomorrow as well but I don’t have to stay, not if you’d rather I
went.’

She let out an astonished laugh. ‘Of course you can stay. Bloody hell, Nick, what’s got into you? You’re acting like a lovesick teenager.’

He smiled and a touch of his trademark smoothness returned. ‘Sorry. It’s been a long week.’

Sam crossed the room and reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘Tell me about it. But seeing you makes everything better.’

He gazed at her for a moment. ‘Good. Now, I suppose we’d better get back downstairs before Franny decides we’re up to something naughty.’

His eyes lingered on hers for a fraction too long, just enough to remind Sam of the nights they’d spent together in the past, and she realised with a jolt that something naughty was
exactly what she felt like getting up to. She shook the thought away and summoned up a smile. ‘Don’t. I’m pretty sure some of the village women are sticking pins into an effigy of
me already over you.’

He nodded at the bottle in the champagne bucket. ‘Are you going to help me to drink that?’

Sam hesitated. Prosecco and Nick were a dangerous combination. ‘Ask me again later.’

Nick’s mouth quirked into a smile, his confidence obviously restored. ‘Don’t worry, I will.’

Sam knew Joss would be watching her when she came back downstairs with Nick. They hadn’t been gone long enough to be accused of anything – not that it was any of
Joss’s business anyway – but she still felt his gaze burning into her. He’d always suspected there was more to her relationship with Nick than she admitted, had never accepted the
two of them were just friends no matter how many times Sam had tried to reassure him. She supposed he must be taking a grim satisfaction in seeing the newspaper photos of her and Nick together now,
congratulating himself on being right. Let him, she decided. He’d made his choice when he’d walked out.

Nick, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have noticed Joss was there; he was too busy charming the rest of the villagers. Sam saw Joss and his new girlfriend leave not long after –
sour grapes, she wondered, or fear that he might lose another girlfriend to the actor.

It took longer than usual to get everyone to leave at closing time but eventually the bar was empty. Nick nodded at Connor.

‘I’m amazed Sam hasn’t got you in costume,’ he said, smirking. ‘A big lad like you in leather would certainly bring in the ladies.’

Connor grinned. ‘I’m not sure the wife would approve.’

Sam shook her head. ‘We’re saving the costumes for the masked ball and letting the beer do the talking this weekend.’ She fixed Nick with a look. ‘Speaking of costumes,
do you know what you’re planning to wear?’

Nick tapped his nose. ‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Only, a few of the village ladies have asked whether you’d be prepared to recreate the topless scene from
Smugglers’ Inn
and I said I’d ask,’ Sam said
innocently.

Nick sighed. ‘It’s a good thing I don’t mind being objectified, isn’t it?’

Sam sent him a level look. ‘You love it, Nick Borrowdale. Don’t pretend otherwise.’

‘Don’t worry, I have my costume sorted,’ he said, winking. ‘You won’t be disappointed.’

Shortly after that, Connor and Tilly said goodnight and headed off. Nessie made her excuses and left Sam and Nick sitting beside the fire, talking over old times until Sam yawned and
stretched.

Nick took her hand. ‘You don’t have to, you know.’

Sam felt her cheeks flush as she looked away. This was ridiculous, she thought, she’d spent the night with Nick plenty of times before and they’d always had a good time. Why was she
suddenly coming over all coy and embarrassed?

‘I know.’

Nick studied her. ‘I’ve put you on the spot by coming here.’

‘No, it’s not that. It’s . . .’ Sam trailed off, not sure what was troubling her. And then it dawned on her: the problem was Joss. This was his territory; if she slept
with Nick here it would seem disrespectful somehow. Although Joss hadn’t respected her very much, a little voice whispered, when he’d brought his new girlfriend to the pub. So did it
matter very much if she slept with Nick again? Joss had moved on; it was time she did too. And who better to move on with than gorgeous, sexy Nick?

‘It’s nothing,’ she said firmly. Slowly and deliberately, she leaned forwards until her face was close to his. ‘Shall we have some fun?’

One hand cupped her face, drawing her closer still. ‘Only if you’re sure?’

Her lips brushed his and she felt a slow burn start in her belly. ‘I’m sure.’

Nick pulled her close and kissed her. It was new and familiar both at the same time. After a few moments, they broke apart. Sam’s breath felt ragged in her throat; she’d forgotten
just how good he was. ‘So do you – uh – think that Prosecco will be chilled enough by now?’ she asked, gazing into his eyes.

Nick smiled. ‘I think it’s going to be perfect.’

‘Good,’ Sam said, pulling him to his feet. ‘Let’s go and find out.’

It took Sam a few bleary-eyed blinks to remember she was in the guest room upstairs, and a couple more to remember the sequence of events that had led her there. She twisted
sideways to find Nick sprawled beside her, his dark hair tousled against the white Egyptian cotton bedsheets. There had been Prosecco, she recalled, and many long kisses. Then she and Nick had
undressed each other, taking more time to explore than they ever had during their previous encounters. He hadn’t changed much – more toned and muscular than she remembered but
essentially the same Nick. What was different was Sam’s sense that this meant more to him than it had before. Previously their nights together had been based on a shared sense of fun and
mutual convenience but this time, Nick had sought her out, made a deliberate and long journey to be with her. This time the stakes felt higher and that troubled her.

She checked the time: seven-thirty. Nessie would be in the kitchen preparing breakfast; there was no way Sam could sneak back to her room without being caught – not with the creaky
floorboards that littered the route. Then again, she was pretty sure Nessie would have put two and two together already, a suspicion that was confirmed when breakfast for two was left outside the
door just after eight.

Sam woke Nick, avoiding the arm that tried to snake around her waist. ‘Breakfast. There’s a full English here with your name on it if you want it.’

She lifted the silver cloche cover from the plate and the aroma of bacon rose into the air. Nick smiled. ‘Oh, I want it. But if my personal trainer ever asks, I had a protein shake and
peanut butter on wholemeal toast, okay?’

Nessie made no comment when Sam brought the empty trays down an hour later, her hair damp from the shower. She watched over the top of the newspaper as Sam loaded the dishwasher and poured
herself a mug of tea.

‘How’s the weather looking?’ Sam asked as she settled at the kitchen table.

‘Not bad,’ Nessie said. ‘A bit crisp but that should burn off once the sun comes out. How’s our Mr Turner?’

Sam couldn’t help smiling. ‘Fine, as far as I can tell. He says the bed is very comfortable and he’s happy to stay a second night.’

Nessie fired a curious look her way. ‘And?’

‘And what?’ Sam replied. ‘I’m fine too.’

‘Not that,’ Nessie said dismissively. ‘The bed. What did you think of it?’

‘Oh,’ Sam said. ‘Very nice. The posts came in very handy when we—’

Nessie held up a hand. ‘Spare me the details,’ she said with a delicate shudder. ‘As long as you didn’t break anything then I don’t need to know.’

The only thing Sam was worried about breaking was her friendship with Nick. But this wasn’t the first time they’d spent the night together; surely that wasn’t going to be a
problem? ‘We didn’t,’ she assured her sister. ‘Now, what’s the plan for today?’

They discussed the day’s schedule: Connor was introducing a couple of new ales to encourage return visits among the beer aficionados, and come rain or shine, sausages and pretzels would be
on sale in the garden, beneath the gazebo. In the evening, Sam had booked a live oompah band to perform and she was hoping they’d play some of the cheeky covers she’d added to the
pub’s playlist: there was only so much traditional Bavarian music she could take in one day after all.

‘How about you?’ Sam asked her sister. ‘Will Owen be sampling some more of the ales tonight?’

‘No,’ Nessie said. ‘Kathryn has an overnight gig so Owen needs to stay in with Luke. He said he’d try to pop in tomorrow lunchtime.’

‘Good,’ Sam said in satisfaction. ‘You can tell him you accept his kind invitation to snog under the stars.’

Nessie laughed. ‘It’s hardly that. But yes, I’ll tell him I’d love to come.’

Sam grinned mischievously. ‘Everything comes to she who grasps it, Nessie. Trust me on this.’

‘You’ve got such a filthy mind,’ Nessie said, batting her arm with the folded-up newspaper. Then her expression softened a bit. ‘But it’s good to see you happy with
someone again, especially after what happened over Will.’

‘It feels good,’ Sam said, pushing away the momentary pang when she thought of everything that particular mistake had cost her. ‘And it’s your turn next.’

Nessie opened her mouth and Sam knew she was about to demur, to make some kind of self-deprecating comment. Then she smiled. ‘I hope so. I really do. There’s just the small matter of
my divorce to settle before then.’

Patrick
, Sam thought, a prickle of irritation piercing her own contentment. The sooner Nessie got her Decree Nisi through, the better.

Sam was on her way back from the butcher’s with a fresh load of bratwurst when she saw Joss heading down Star Lane towards her. She hesitated, thought about doubling
back, and then squared her shoulders. It was time she and Joss acted like grown-ups and cleared the air instead of avoiding each other all the time. The Star and Sixpence was the only pub in the
village, part of the community, and she didn’t want him to feel as though he wasn’t welcome. But Joss clearly had other ideas – the moment he saw her he turned around and hurried
in the opposite direction.

Sam sighed and continued on her way back to the pub. Clearing the air was going to have to wait.

Patrick’s accounts were driving Nessie to distraction. He hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said the business was in danger of going under – his income had
dwindled away alarmingly and from the looks of things he had serious cash-flow issues. No wonder he seemed so keen on moving to Little Monkham, Nessie thought, passing a weary hand over her face;
it must seem like the answer to all his problems. And it could easily be enough to convince him he still loved her – desperation did strange things to people, after all, and she and Patrick
hadn’t ever really fallen out. They’d just drifted apart.

She stretched and wandered over to gaze out of the living-room window. The trees on the green were fully dressed for autumn now, their leaves a glorious mix of tawny and russet and red. A few
leaves were swirling lazily across the grass but most had accumulated in piles around the base of the trunks, filling Nessie with the sudden urge to gather great armfuls to throw into the air. Soon
it would be winter and a year since she and Sam had arrived at the Star and Sixpence. So much had changed . . .

She still hadn’t explained the situation with Patrick to Owen. He’d popped into the bar a few days after Oktoberfest to let her know he and Luke planned to watch the meteors on
Friday 21st and she’d almost told him then. But the middle of the pub felt too public for such a personal conversation, no matter how quiet it was, and she’d simply said she’d see
what she could do. Sam had accused her of chickening out and Nessie hadn’t been able to deny it. And now it was the 18th. If she wanted to join Owen and Luke beneath the stars, she needed to
come clean with Owen soon.

‘A penny for your thoughts,’ Sam said, walking into the living room.

Nessie turned around and her gaze came to rest on the haphazard pile of paperwork next to the laptop on the coffee table. ‘I’m going to need much more than a penny,’ she said
with a sigh.

Sam pulled a face. ‘Let me guess. Patrick.’

Nessie nodded. ‘It’s a mess. I can’t believe he didn’t get anyone in to help him.’

‘Like he said, he didn’t want to admit he needed it,’ Sam said. ‘Typical man.’

‘It has made me wonder whether he really wants what he thinks he wants,’ Nessie said hesitantly. ‘For him and me, I mean.’

‘I must admit I’ve wondered that too,’ Sam said. ‘Obviously, I think he was crazy to let you slip away in the first place, but there’s something off in the way
he’s acting, don’t you think? If he’s so keen to rekindle your relationship, why didn’t he say something earlier – when you first applied for the divorce, for
example?’

‘He says he suddenly realised he didn’t want to lose me.’

Sam sniffed. ‘That didn’t seem to worry him when you moved out. Look, Ness, I don’t mean to suggest he’s got an ulterior motive in all this, but I think you need to be
careful not to get sucked in. By all means do what you can with the accounts. But don’t try to bail him out.’ She shook her head wryly. ‘He got himself into this mess, he can get
himself out.’

Sam was right, Nessie decided. She’d work out an action plan to turn the business around but she wouldn’t do the work for him.

‘Have you told Owen about any of this yet?’ Sam said.

Nessie tried not to flinch. How did Sam seem to know what she was thinking? ‘No.’

Sam glanced at her phone. ‘Go and find him now. It’s almost lunchtime, he’ll probably be ready for a break.’ She fixed Nessie with a determined stare. ‘Get it over
with.’

‘He’ll be in the forge,’ Nessie objected. ‘I don’t want to interrupt him.’

Sam let out a growl of frustration. ‘Dear God, Nessie, you can dither for England. Just go and do it. Now.’