Sunrise on the Coast: The perfect feel-good holiday romance (Island Romance Book 1)

by Lilac Mills

  ‘Yes…’

  ‘I have insured it for you. I know someone, who knows someone, who fixed it for you to drive my car.’

  ‘OK.’ She tried to appear grateful, but to tell the truth she was scared stiff. She’d never driven on the right before, and she didn’t know her way around, and all the road signs were in a foreign language, and—

  Hugo must have sensed her panic, because he said, ‘I will come with you and show you the best supermarket, and we can buy something you like to eat, yes? You’ll have to bring the car to me and you’ll have to drive, but don’t worry, you’ll soon be driving like you are Lewis Hamilton.’ He chuckled loudly at his own joke.

  Sophie wasn’t laughing; she was too nervous about the prospect of driving in a foreign country to find it funny. Didn’t Hugo realise that she had only ever driven in the UK? And he expected her to get behind the wheel now? Today? Eek!

  At least she would have the very short reprieve of being able to get used to an unfamiliar car without Hugo sitting in the passenger seat and without being on a public road while she manhandled it down the track to the villa, so she supposed she had to be grateful for small mercies.

  With considerable difficulty Hugo struggled to his feet and shuffled back inside, leaving Sophie to gather up the cups, then shut the folding doors and lock them. By the time she’d done that, he’d located his keys and handed them to her.

  ‘This is for the car. This is for the barrier at the top, and this one for the barrier here.’

  ‘Why are the barriers there?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘To stop anyone parking on the road. It is my road, and the only way to get onto the main road. Before the barriers, it was always blocked by cars belonging to the surfers. You will need these too.’ He dropped another set of keys into her palm. ‘A key to the house and to the gate.’

  ‘You don’t keep it padlocked all the time, do you?’

  ‘Not when I’m here, but when I go out, I lock it. There are some bad people about.’

  Sophie’s eyes widened. For some reason she felt that nothing bad could, or would, happen in such a gorgeous part of the world, but she knew he was right.

  She had to rein in the feeling that she was on an extended holiday and change her mindset. She lived here now, this was home (for a while), and back in the UK she’d never leave the house without locking it. If she had been fortunate enough to live in the middle of nowhere, she still would have locked her doors. Just because this place was idyllic, it didn’t mean there weren’t any criminals around, and with so many people using the coastal path which ran between the house and the plantation, all it would take was one thief and an opportunity.

  All at once she realised just how isolated and alone she’d be for those few days when Hugo was in hospital, and she was very grateful that she’d have Paco for company. Locked gates, locked doors and a large dog were all the protection she needed.

  Chapter 8

  Sophie awoke to the boom of waves on rocks and she stretched slowly, letting the sound wash over her. Today was the first day of her adventure in Tenerife, and she intended to savour every minute of it, starting with making some coffee and taking it onto the terrace.

  She’d always loved early mornings, when the world was fresh and new, and she sat there for a while, Paco keeping her company, watching the boats bob past. The island of La Gomera was clear this morning, with only a topping of cloud on its highest points and the sun highlighting the folds of the land and a sprinkling of white houses.

  Taking a deep breath of fresh salt air, she felt at peace, and a quiet excitement bubbled inside her. Her duties wouldn’t be too hard, and she was actually looking forward to cleaning the villa from top to bottom and making it gleam.

  ‘Buenos días,’ Hugo said, shuffling onto the terrace and easing himself into a chair.

  ‘Morning,’ she replied breezily. ‘Can I make you a coffee? And some breakfast?’

  ‘Coffee is good. I do not eat breakfast.’

  ‘You don’t?’ She narrowed her eyes. Was that because he genuinely didn’t feel like eating in the mornings or because he couldn’t be bothered? ‘I’m going to have some pancakes, followed by fruit and yoghurt. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some?’

  He pretended to think about it, but she noticed the glint in his eyes. ‘You can put a little on a plate if you want,’ he said, and she knew her instincts were correct.

  Sophie switched on the radio and fiddled with it until she found the English station she used to listen to when she was on holiday, humming along to the songs as she set about making the pancake mix and preparing two bowls of chopped fruit topped by generous dollops of creamy yoghurt. It was ages since she’d made pancakes; they used to be her mum’s favourite breakfast and she felt a glow in her chest at the thought that her mother would approve of her making them for Hugo. He was too thin for her liking, and she fully intended to build him up before he had his operation.

  They ate on the terrace with the soft wind ruffling their hair, and Sophie felt more contented than she had done for a long time. She was beginning to heal, and she knew it would be a slow process, but she understood that she’d made the right decision in coming here.

  ‘Is there anything in particular you’d like me to do today?’ she asked, mopping up the last of the syrup with a morsel of fluffy pancake. Hugo, she noticed, had cleared his plate and was diving into the bowl of fruit with gusto.

  He shrugged. ‘Paco will need a walk.’

  ‘I’ll take him after breakfast,’ she said. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Maybe you could wash some shirts? I have no more clean ones.’ He sounded so apologetic, her heart went out to him.

  ‘Of course, that’s what I’m here for. How about if I do what I think needs doing, and you tell me if you’re happy with it, or you want me to do something else?’ she offered, realising it must be hard for him to have a total stranger sharing his house. She also suspected she wasn’t just there for the practical stuff like washing and cleaning; he wanted her company too.

  He shrugged again, seeming a bit uncertain.

  ‘Would you like me to fetch you some newspapers? I can walk Paco to the shops and pick you one up?’

  ‘That would be kind,’ he replied hesitantly, and she had to tamp down her sudden urge to wrap him in a hug.

  ‘Run me through your normal daily routine,’ she suggested. ‘I don’t want to interfere with it.’

  He looked out to sea and pulled a face. ‘I make food. I walk Paco a little.’ He pulled another face, and she guessed the walking part must be difficult for him. ‘I watch the TV. I watch the boats.’

  Bless him, it sounded as though he didn’t do much at all, and she wondered if he had any family who visited him, or any friends who lived nearby and dropped in to see him. She thought about the ways she used to entertain her mother – doing crosswords together, cross stitching, playing Scrabble and other board games – and she wondered if she could do some of those things with Hugo. Or would the simple fact of having another person in the house be enough for him?

  She wanted to ask about his personal life, whether he’d been married or had any children, but she didn’t feel she knew him well enough yet, so she told him about her daily routine back home when her mum was still alive and before she became too ill.

  ‘She used to love having me paint her nails,’ Sophie said, smiling at the memory, ‘and I used to try all kinds of patterns. I wasn’t very good at it, but we had fun all the same.’

  Hugo held a large, roughened hand out to her and waggled his fingers. ‘Red or rosado – pink?’

  ‘How about blue, just to be different?’ she suggested with a laugh, pleased that she was bringing him out of his shell a little.

  There was a hiatus for a few moments, then Hugo said, ‘I think I shall like having you here,’ and the smile he gave her made her aching heart just that little bit less sore.

  She still missed her mother dreadfully, and she always would, but the terrible
pain of a few weeks ago had eased a fraction. And if by helping Hugo she also helped heal herself a little more, then it made things easier to bear.

  ‘I think I shall like living here,’ she said, and her own smile was as wide as his.

  Chapter 9

  The speed at which Sophie settled into daily life in the villa astounded her. Hugo was easy to live with, undemanding and uncomplaining, and they muddled along together quite comfortably, each of them content to be in the other’s company. They didn’t feel the need to chatter all the time either, and Sophie was grateful for that. She’d never been particularly gregarious and the hours and hours when it had just been her and her mum had made her even less talkative. Hugo didn’t need entertaining and was perfectly happy to let her potter, and sometimes they’d happily sit for hours without either of them speaking, her with her nose in a book and Hugo attempting a crossword or a Sudoku puzzle.

  She quickly became accustomed to going on short runs to the supermarket in the car, often with Hugo accompanying her, which was a help when she was trying to work out what the jar she was holding contained. Sometimes when he couldn’t find the right English word, he’d try to describe it or he’d use mime, and she’d fall about in the aisle, giggling at his antics. For a quiet, often reserved man, he had a wicked sense of humour.

  When Hugo asked if she would accompany him to the hospital for his pre-operation check she agreed without hesitation, although she had yet to drive any distance on the island, and the thought filled her with trepidation.

  ‘Of course I will. Is there someone you’d like us to pick up on the way?’ She knew she wasn’t being particularly subtle, but she continued to be curious about whether he had any family. He’d not mentioned anyone and, despite their growing friendship, she still didn’t feel it was her place to pry.

  ‘No. No one.’

  Should she ask him about the man in the photo? She’d been in his bedroom several times to collect dirty laundry and to put his clean clothes away, and she’d also given the room a clean and changed his sheets since she’d arrived, but she didn’t want him to think she’d been snooping, so she bit her tongue.

  He’d tell her when he was ready, and she didn’t want to delve right now in case there was a heartbreaking story behind the man in the photo. Maybe it was Hugo’s son and something had happened to him. Sophie didn’t feel she could cope with such sadness at the moment, and especially not with a drive to the hospital on the cards later that morning. She was nervous enough as it was, without allowing herself to get distracted.

  However, while Hugo freshened up in the bathroom, Sophie found herself slipping into his bedroom for another quick peek at it.

  She picked up the frame and turned it towards the window. Was that a family resemblance between the two men, or was she imagining it? Replacing it quickly, she darted into the hall and slipped her feet into a pair of pumps she’d left by the front door. Whoever the man in the picture was, he was wickedly handsome, and she wished she could meet him in real life, just to check that his good looks weren’t a trick of the light or a bit of clever Photoshopping.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Hugo asked.

  She nodded, although she didn’t feel at all ready to tackle busy, unfamiliar roads.

  Thankfully, the drive was better than she anticipated, although she didn’t particularly like the motorway, and before she knew it she was parking the car and helping Hugo out of the passenger seat. He waved her away, but she hovered regardless, in case he needed her.

  Once inside, she sat in the waiting area, wondering if she should offer to go in with him, but he didn’t suggest it, so in the end she took a book out of her bag when he was called by a nurse and read until he was ready to leave.

  As she sat there, her book open on her lap, she thought about what she loved most about Tenerife, besides the weather. And decided some of it was the large expat presence, which meant there were lots of home comforts if she wanted them, like familiar brands of food and toiletries, some British TV channels, and English newspapers and books. She’d bought the one she was reading from a shop in the town where she’d stayed when she was on holiday, and it made a nice change from trying to read on her phone.

  Although she hadn’t been on the island long – and she adored the flavours, colours and variety of the local food, the exuberance of the language and the culture – occasionally a wave of homesickness swept over her and she longed for the familiarity of the UK. Being able to read an English novel made her feel a little less cast adrift.

  She’d had another one of those homesick moments earlier that day, which was why she’d planned on cooking a roast chicken dinner. Her delight when she’d discovered Bisto gravy granules on a shelf in one of the little shops in a side street in Playa de la Arena was beyond measure and had set the ball rolling for introducing Hugo to a traditional British roast chicken and roast potatoes with a selection of veg to go with it. Her mouth was already watering at the thought of dinner tonight.

  She’d make another meal out of the leftovers tomorrow, and she planned on making stock with the carcass so they could have soup later in the week. With fresh crusty bread, it would be an ideal lunch for the pair of them.

  She glanced up from her book once more, keeping an eye on the corridor Hugo had been ushered down earlier by one of the nurses, and saw him slowly walking along it. She was about to jump up and hurry to his side, in case he needed her support, when she realised he was speaking into a mobile phone, and she paused. For one thing, she hadn’t realised he owned a mobile, having never seen him use it – then again, she’d never seen him use the house phone either – and she also didn’t want to intrude on what was clearly a private conversation.

  ‘Sí, Alejandro, sí,’ she heard him say, followed by a stream of Spanish. He sounded happy and upbeat and she wondered who he was speaking to.

  ‘Are you OK?’ she asked him, after he’d finished his call.

  ‘Sí, I am good. That was my nephew, Alejandro.’ He was smiling. ‘My sister’s son, he is a good boy. He phones me more than she does.’

  ‘That’s nice.’ Alejandro sounded thoughtful and considerate, and Sophie was glad Hugo had a relative who was taking an interest in the elderly man – although she did wonder why he hadn’t visited him since she’d been living at the villa.

  ‘Is everything all set for the operation?’ she asked, bringing the subject back to the reason they were at the hospital.

  He nodded. ‘It will go ahead on Wednesday. If you can drive me here, then collect me in two days, I would be grateful. If anything changes, I will tell you.’

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ she said, as she helped lower him into the car. He tried to shake her off, but she could tell he was struggling so she ignored his silent protest and the cross look he gave her, and took his arm to steady him. ‘If you think I’m leaving you in hospital for two whole days and not visiting, you’ve got another think coming. When are visiting times?’

  ‘I will be fine,’ he said. ‘I do not need visitors.’

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He’d become quite cranky all of a sudden, and she already knew he was very independent, but this was taking things too far. She decided to try a different tack.

  ‘You mightn’t feel the need for visitors, but what about me? It’s not going to take me all day to do a bit of cleaning and walk Paco. I don’t know anyone else on the island and I’m worried I’ll be lonely.’

  It was his turn to shoot her a look, and she could have sworn that the corner of his mouth turned up. ‘If you insist, although I warn you, I will not be talking much.’

  ‘What’s new?’ she retorted with a smile of her own to show she was teasing. ‘You never do.’

  It was true. Sophie suspected that even if he hadn’t been in considerable discomfort, he’d never be the life and soul of a party. She had no idea how long he’d lived on his own in the villa, but he’d clearly become used to his own company, although he did talk to Paco on a regular basis. Sh
e’d found herself doing the same thing on occasion; Paco was a very easy dog to talk to.

  She drove Hugo back to the villa and supervised his painful, slow progress into the living room, where she settled him in his favourite chair and opened the doors wide. Walking out onto the terrace she took a deep breath of sea air and turned her face to the sun, drinking in the warm rays.

  ‘I’ll just pop the chicken in the oven,’ she said, ‘then I’ll take Paco for a walk.’ After she got back, she’d have a go at tackling that spare room. It didn’t look at though it had been cleaned in ages, and she was itching to get in there.

  ‘You are a good person,’ Hugo said. ‘I am thankful you are here.’

  Although their relationship was technically a business one, Sophie was thankful too. ‘So am I. I’ve fallen in love with Tenerife.’

  She turned to face him, leaning back against the balustrade, her arms stretched out either side, hearing the rhythmic boom of the waves at her back then the suck and drag of the pebbles, like the slow heartbeat of a giant beast.

  ‘Have you seen much of the island?’ he asked.

  ‘A little. I’ve done some of the touristy things, like visited Teide and Masca Gorge.’

  ‘There are many different sides to Tenerife,’ Hugo said. ‘The south with its noisy bars and nightclubs, and all-you-can-eat buffet restaurants, and shops selling plastic rubbish. Then there is the capital city of Santa Cruz in the north, with its culture and historic buildings. Do you know, it has one of the busiest harbours in Spain, and the most beautiful beach in Tenerife, which is made with sand from the Sahara? And everywhere there are mountains, some of them bare and others with kilometre after kilometre of trees.’

  ‘Wow, it sounds wonderful.’ She was also shocked to hear Hugo say so much in one go.

  ‘It is wonderful.’ He rested his head on the back of his armchair. ‘Now, leave me, please. I am tired and I want to sleep for a while.’

  He closed his eyes and Sophie noticed how wan he looked, and how much the lines on his face had deepened. The hospital appointment had really taken it out of him.