Page 54 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
She followed to where he pointed. A road sloped up from the end of the Esplanade, lined with a row of tall, double-fronted Victorian townhouses, three storeys of ruddy-brown brick with dormer windows in the rooves.
“Ah, yes. It looks nice.”
“It’s very nice. I live there now.”
“Oh?”
“She moved down to live with my mum and dad a few years ago, when she needed to be looked after full time. That’s their house, three doors down. So rather than leave it empty, I moved in and rented it from her. I wanted my own space anyway, so it was ideal.”
“You actually paid her rent?”
“Of course.”
There was no ‘of course’ about it, Jess mused, taking a sip of her wine. A lot of people would have taken advantage of a grandmother’s affection to live rent free. She silently awardedhim an extra point for that. “So what will happen to it now? Will you stay there?”
He nodded. “She left it between the three of us — me, Lisa and Cassie. So I bought them out.”
She gave him a questioning look. “You’re planning to stay here in Sturcombe long-term?”
“It’s my home.” With a sweep of his hand, he gestured to the wide crescent of the bay spread below them, the sea blue-grey beneath the cool blue sky, the village clustered like children’s toys in the cradle of the green slopes around it. “Why would I want to live anywhere else?”
“It is a beautiful place,” she acknowledged, turning to look out over the view. “But don’t you ever hanker for the bright lights of London?”
He shrugged his wide shoulders in a gesture of careless dismissal. “I can go up there when I need to. I did look at a couple of serviced apartments, but it didn’t seem worth it when I can stay in a hotel for a couple of nights and get everything I need.”
“The Dorchester?”
He laughed. “No thank you! There’s a nice little hotel near Russell Square. I prefer it there. Quiet, but close enough to the centre of town.”
“Sounds good.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t know.” She had been trying not to think ahead. “I really like this place. But if the hotel closes . . . I don’t suppose it would be easy to find another job here.”
“Probably not,” he conceded. “Would you go back to Bristol?”
She shook her head. “No . . . Exeter, maybe. It depends where there’s work. Anyway, I’m supposed to be at work now.”She pulled herself up briskly. “I’d better get back to the desk.” She spared him a cool smile. “See you around.”
* * *
Paul watched Jess as she disappeared into the reception hall, all long-legged elegance. He hoped she wouldn’t leave Sturcombe, but as she had said, if the hotel closed, she may not have a choice.
Ifit closed.
He glanced around the terrace and up at the rambling white facade of the building. It had stood here, overlooking the bay, all his life. He had always assumed that it would stand here forever.
He saw his sister chatting to Arthur’s carer, Marcus. He went over, winking an apology to the man for butting in, and dropped a casual arm around her shoulders. “Ah, Lisa. My favourite sister.”
She gave him a glance of sardonic amusement. “Don’t let Cassie hear you say that.”
“That’s okay.” He grinned. “I’ll always be her favourite brother.”
“You’re her only brother,” she retorted dryly. “Anyway, what do you want?”
“Why would you think I want anything?” He knew she wouldn’t be fooled by his bland smile. “Can’t I just enjoy the pleasure of your company for a while?”
She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
