Page 46 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
Yes, she remembered him. He’d always been the quiet one, overpowered by the noisy triumvirate of Paul, Liam and Tom Cullen. He was holding Debbie’s hand under the table, and Cassie smiled to herself. So this was the man who had brought that spark of happiness to Debbie’s soft brown eyes. Good for him.
Cassie craned her neck to look around the bar. “Where are Ian and Greg Norrish?” she asked. “And Beverley Wotton?”
Debbie smiled a little crookedly. “Moved away. Bev lives in Exeter now — she works in a bank up there. The Norrishes both went up to Manchester, I think, and the Sladers all moved to somewhere up in Nottinghamshire.”
“Oh, that’s sad. It won’t seem the same without them here.”
Debbie’s wry glance reminded her that she had left too.
They sat chatting comfortably about memories of their schooldays. Cassie was trying not to watch the door to see ifLiam would come in. And trying just as hard not to watch the big brass ship’s clock above the bar as the time ticked by.
It was almost half past eight when the door opened and a tall man with dark hair appeared. Cassie’s heart skipped . . . But as he turned, she realised that it was Luke, with Julia. The door closed behind them — no one had followed them in.
“Hi, Luke,” someone called. “No Liam tonight?”
Luke shook his head, laughing. “He’s at some charity thing at the Gillard’s, for the Horse Rescue. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me on the team.”
“Oh, damn. Might as well throw in the towel now, boys.”
There was a lot more good-natured banter as Luke and his wife moved over to the back of the room to join the darts team. Cassie refused to acknowledge the stab of disappointment. She wouldn’t see Liam tonight. So what? She wasn’t bothered. Not at all.
* * *
It was a more enjoyable evening than Liam had anticipated. Annabel was a lively companion, and it did his ego no harm to have such a beautiful woman at his side.
Dinner over, there were the inevitable speeches, followed by an auction run by a well-known actor who lived locally. He whipped up the audience’s enthusiasm for the items to be bid for — a crate of twenty-six-year-old Irish whiskey, a helicopter ride over Land’s End followed by dinner for four at one of Cornwall’s swankiest restaurants, a day at the races in the donor’s private box, with champagne.
There was a certain irony in that prize, Liam reflected dryly. Over the past few years the society had taken in three of the donor’s racehorses that hadn’t made the grade. Maybe the donation was to ease his conscience — if he had one.
“Oh, aren’t those earrings pretty?” Annabel had spotted them earlier — blue enamel on gold. “I have to have them.”
She was bidding excitedly, waving her hand, and she whooped with such joy when she won that she earned herself a round of applause. Impulsively, she threw her arms around Liam’s neck and kissed him enthusiastically on the lips.
He laughed, though he did feel mildly uncomfortable. But it was just her lively, open personality — he really shouldn’t be churlish about it.
“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Her eyes were bright as she slipped the earrings she was wearing out of her ears and put the new ones in. “Here, would you look after these for me? I don’t have any pockets in this dress.”
He slanted her a teasing smile as he took them from her. They looked like real diamonds. “You trust me not to run off with them?”
“Of course I trust you.” She laughed merrily. “I’m a great judge of character.”
The actor was announcing the end of the auction. “Okay, folks, that’s all for now. I think I hear the band warming up. Let’s hit the dance floor.”
“Come on,” Annabel urged, tugging on Liam’s hand. “Let’s dance.”
In the marquee a live band had set up on a dais at one end — a drummer and two guitarists, and a keyboard player. They were playing a good mix of pop covers and a few classic soul numbers.
He hadn’t danced for a long time. Not since Natalie. But Annabel didn’t seem to even notice his lack of enthusiasm. She was enjoying herself, swaying to the music, her eyes bright, her hair gleaming in the soft amber glow of the fairy lights strung beneath the roof.
Dammit. Stop being so uptight.You’re dancing with a beautiful woman — just relax and enjoy it. Stop worrying aboutwhere it might lead. Stop thinking about a girl with a Maori tattoo on her shoulder.
The dance floor was getting lively, and he was just beginning to think he should suggest that they should dance with other people for a while when Malcolm breezed up.
“Ah, there you are! We’re setting up the shooting range. Come and show them how it’s done.”
“Oh, yes!” Annabel’s fine eyes shone. “I’ve been dying to have a go on that. Show me how to do it.”
He smiled down at her. “Come on then. Have you ever done any shooting before?”
