Page 62 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

‘She’s completely nuts about me. I mean…’ Bartie waved a hand over his body, ‘who wouldn’t be?’ He grinned. ‘But her feelings for me are useful because they mean she’s very trusting.’

‘She’s also pretty, so you’re quite happy to go along with it, I dare say.’

Hannah wasn’t laughing any more. She pulled her mouth into a thin line and stared into her drink.

Bartie leaned forward and put his hand on top of hers. ‘You worry too much, babe. You know I can be a bit of a jack-the-lad but it doesn’t mean anything.’

Clara had heard enough and was finding it hard to breathe. River was right that Bartie wasn’t to be trusted. She’d been dazzled by his faux charm, and flattered that, after all these years, he might be interested in her. But he was simply keeping her sweet, to ensure that the house sale went through, and that it was sold to this particular woman.

She suddenly went hot and cold at the thought of how close she’d come to spending yesterday afternoon with him. Thank goodness she’d chosen to focus on her search instead. It seemed that Audrey had saved her from making a massive mistake.

Clara was about to flee the pub garden when Bartie said: ‘One thing I’m not sure about is how many homes you’re planning on building in total. I know there are the ten luxury apartments in the house, but how many in the grounds?’

‘As many as we can get away with, depending on planning regs. But I’ve had an off-the-record chat with a local planning official who seemed very keen on attracting more house buyers to the area. I think we can manage a small estate of executive four-bedroom houses, with half overlooking the sea and the rest looking towards the moors. It’ll be catnip to the buyers we’re planning to entice. The cottage will have to go, of course.’

‘Obviously.’ Bartie frowned. ‘You didn’t mention anything about housing estates to River, did you?’

‘Of course not, Bartie. I’m not a novice at this. I’m very experienced.’

‘Oh, I know that, sweetheart. That was evident from our first weekend together.’

When Bartie’s hand snaked under the table and clamped Hannah’s thigh, she giggled and took another sip of her drink.

Clara blinked back tears of sadness and rage. Not only were Bartie and Hannah in cahoots, trying to nab the manor and grounds under false pretences, he was also undeniably in some sort of relationship with her. Which made him kissing Clara even worse. He wasn’t joking when he’d told Hannah ‘it doesn’t mean anything’. Clara was simply a means to an end.

She’d heard enough. Watched by a curious Florence, Clara rushed back into the pub and pushed her way through the throng at the bar.

‘Did you find your friends?’ called Fred. ‘Were they in the garden?’

Clara nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and walked out into the street.

She turned her hot face towards the breeze coming off the sea and bit down hard on her bottom lip. She needed to let River know what was really going on, but she couldn’t face the humiliation of admitting that he’d been right all along and she’d been a total fool.

28

CLARA

An orange sun was sinking into a silver sea, blazing a path across the swelling water. Puffs of cloud on the horizon were a vivid pink and purple.

‘Completely beautiful,’ whispered Clara, who was sitting on a ruined wall of the castle, swinging her legs. She loved this time of day, when shadows began to lengthen across the stones and the tourists had gone. It was easy to imagine the people who’d lived here long ago as the gap between then and now became wafer-thin.

But this evening, she felt too jittery to relax and enjoy the view. Too let down and deceived. She tapped her fingers urgently against the stone and berated herself for the hundredth time for being taken in by flattery and lies.

She’d been out for hours because she couldn’t face going home. She’d texted her mum to say she’d be out for tea, and had eaten in a local café. But it was getting dark and she couldn’t stay away from Brellasham Manor for much longer. She would have to face people soon and tell them the truth.

When two hands suddenly covered her eyes, Clara let out a scream and jumped to her feet.

‘Steady on, Clara. It’s only me,’ said Bartie, who had sneaked up behind her.

‘That was stupid,’ spat Clara, her heart hammering in her chest. ‘What are you doing creeping up on people like that?’

‘It was only a joke! I didn’t mean to make you jump. Would a hug with me help?’ He opened his arms wide.

‘No, I’m fine,’ muttered Clara, taking a step back.

‘Well, you don’t look fine,’ said Bartie, his arms dropping to his sides. ‘Look, I admit that probably wasn’t the best way to announce my arrival. I wasn’t trying to scare you.’

‘Well, you did.’ Clara’s heart rate was beginning to slow down. ‘What are you doing here?’

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