Page 31 of The Island Girls

‘Apparently, I was very lucky to get in on a cancellation at such short notice, as it’s always booked out for months ahead,’ Paul said as Rebekah unlocked the front door for him. ‘Oh wow, look at that view!’ he cried, dropping his bag and walking straight to the picture window.

The cottage looked out onto the Haven side of the harbour entrance, and the water was busy with yachts and motorboats coming and going. The chain ferry across to Studland was on its way back and one of the huge cross-channel ferries was out in the bay, approaching the harbour entrance. Just outside the front door was a little table and two chairs, perfect for an evening meal with a glass of wine.

Rebekah still held the keys and watched as he took it all in, waiting for him to make the next move. He spun around, as if reading her thoughts.

‘Rebekah, do you have plans for dinner tonight? I’ve brought food. And wine. And if you’d like to join me, that would be wonderful,’ he said, watching her face eagerly for her response.

Rebekah had about a thousand questions. When had he decided to come back to Poole? Why hadn’t he been in touch earlier, if he’d been thinking of her? What would he have done if his presence had been unwelcome? Did he have work to do at the pottery, or was this trip just about seeing her? And, would she be sleeping in her cottage or his tonight?

She must have paused for a few seconds longer than he expected, because the eagerness in his look turned to anguish once more. She reminded herself to speak, and made a mental note to stop doing this to him.

‘Sorry, Paul. What was the question?’ she said, trying for a light and cheery smile.

‘Would you have dinner with me tonight? Here? Please?’ he asked, sweeping his arm around to take in the kitchen, the dining table, and the outdoor setting beyond the picture window.

Rebekah eyed his simple luggage and complete lack of grocery bags with a frown. Either he was into minimalist food or something was missing. ‘Where’s the food you brought?’ she asked, wondering if he’d accidentally left something on the ferry.

‘Ah, yes – I should check on that. If everything went to plan, then this fridge should have everything we need,’ he said peering behind the fridge door and then holding it wide with an exultant grin on his face.

‘Voila!’ he said with a flourish. The fully stocked fridge was bursting with fresh produce, wine, milk, juice, pastries, and some paper-wrapped parcels that most likely contained meat or fish.

‘How did you do this?’ she asked, incredulous.

‘Magic,’ he said, with a laugh. ‘Well, not magic exactly, but it did take some effort: I learnt last weekend that your friends on the ferry don’t mind carrying the odd bag or two of groceries, and I knew I wouldn’t have time myself. So, I made a few phone calls, and here we are. All organised. And I have to say that, so far, everything is going very well indeed.’

Ten minutes later, they’d agreed that Rebekah would go home to shower and change, swapping her somewhat muddy workday ranger’s clothes for something a little more suited to dinner, and come back to the cottage for seven o’clock.

On the walk up the hill to Rose Cottage, Rebekah felt like skipping and couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. Just an hour ago, she’d been lamenting the fact that she would never see him again, and now Paul was right here on the island and cooking her dinner.

When she opened the front door, Rebekah was surprised to see an envelope resting against the wax-covered wine bottle she used as a candelabra on the dining table.

She frowned, wondering what it might be; the staff from reception had access to the spare set of keys to the cottage, but nobody usually came in here without mentioning something to her, and her mail was generally kept for her at the office. The envelope was marked simply in a neat hand,For Rebekahon the front, with no markings on the back. She tore the envelope open and found inside one ticket to the opening night of the play. There was a piece of notepaper, folder into four, attached to the ticket.

Dear Rebekah,

I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me, but I didn’t want to come across as pushy, so here is a ticket for you. I’ll be there too – but no pressure. Just enjoy the play.

From Ben, with love. xx

‘Oh Ben,’ she said and bit her lip. He was such a sweet guy, and there was nothing wrong with him. It was just that she wasn’t interested. She realised now that she’d thought she wasn’t interested in anyone, but Paul had changed all that. And now that she thought about it, Ben seemed to bring her a gift of something or other nearly every week, and had been doing so all summer. And he’d worked out what she liked, what she wanted. He even knew that she would want to see the play, but wasn’tinterested in a date. She rubbed her eyes and pinched the brow of her nose, sighed, and dropped the note and ticket on the table.

Right now, she had a date with someone she very much wanted to see, much more than Ben. Someone she’d been longing to see for five days now.

She took off her boots and went upstairs, dropping all her dirty clothes on the bathroom floor and stepping into the steaming shower. She felt sure that she had never led Ben on. She was just friendly with him, as she was everyone else. It wasn’t her fault that he’d seen more in their friendship than there really was. Ben was a nice guy. Quite nice-looking. Kind. Helpful. He’d grown up here in Poole and made his life here, and there was nothing wrong with that – she doubted that if she had grown up here, she would ever have left either, but…But what, Rebekah?she asked herself. Ben was not Paul.

Paul had come into her life with excitement from that first knock on the door last Friday night. Paul was from far away. He was a talented musician. He was deep. He had something attractive about the way he didn’t try, and he was spontaneous. He excited her. Rebekah sat on her bed, towelling her hair dry, and reached into her drawer for underwear but her hands found a book resting on the bedside table first. She dropped the towel on the floor and found she was holding her copy ofFar from the Madding Crowd. She turned it over and reread the blurb of the book she’d read dozens of times now. Was Ben her dependable Gabriel Oak and Paul her dangerous Frank Troy? Ben was certainly stable and predictable, whereas Paul was new and exciting. And, just like Bathsheba, she didn’t need either of them. But, despite the risks she knew so well from her past experiences, something inside her wanted the thrill.

Rebekah chucked the book on the bed and scoffed at herself for being so ridiculous. Gabriel and Frank were nothing but fictional characters and Paul was the only man whose absencehad made her feel sad. Ben… well, it was rough for him that he was attached to her, but she would have to help him deal with that. Right now, she had a date with a man she hoped very much to be seeing a whole lot more of.

As Rebekah approached the front door to the Custom House cottage just before seven o’clock, she paused against the castle wall to smooth the blue dress she’d chosen, which had ridden up as she’d walked, and changed her flat walking shoes for the sandals with little heels.

At the front door, she dropped the walking shoes to one side and knocked. When Paul opened the door, his face lit up like the sun, and all the cloudy doubts blown in by Ben’s gift wafted away on the breeze.

‘I brought you this,’ she said, holding up a chilled bottle of Chianti. ‘I know you have plenty of wine here, but it didn’t feel right to arrive empty-handed.’

In reply, he took the wine in one hand, and Rebekah’s hand in the other, pulling her gently over the threshold and into his arms for a kiss it seemed he had been waiting hours for.

‘Hungry?’ he asked her, when they finally pulled apart.

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