Sam glared at him. ‘I hope you told them there’s nothing to be jealous of?’
He spread his hands and threw her an innocent look. ‘Of course. I’m not sure they believed me, mind. They’ve seen you.’
The look that accompanied his last few words was so openly suggestive that Sam almost blushed. Gritting her teeth, she refused to meet his gaze.
Nessie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘What a mess. Joss, you might as well go home. I’m sure you’ve better things to do than hang around an empty pub.’
Joss glanced over at Sam and she thought for a moment he might argue. Then he laid the towel he’d been using to dry the coffee cups down and nodded. Owen drained his glass. ‘I’ll have to go too, I’m afraid,’ he said apologetically. ‘Kathryn has a gig, her last one of the year since their New Year’s Eve booking got cancelled, so I need to get home to Luke. She’s sorry she can’t be here.’
Nessie offered a strained smile. ‘Say hi to her for me.’
‘Take some sandwiches, both of you,’ Sam said, waving towards the laden table. ‘We’ll be eating it for breakfast, lunch and dinner tomorrow otherwise.’
An uncomfortable silence descended once they’d gone. Sam sat next to the fire, prodding the coals moodily with a poker. ‘Go on, you can say it,’ she told her sister after a few minutes had gone by. ‘This is all my fault.’
Nessie left the bar and sat opposite her. ‘Don’t be silly, of course it’s not. We just need to find a way to win them back, that’s all.’ She smiled in encouragement. ‘Luckily we have a PR genius on the team who knows every trick when it comes to rebranding.’
Sam shook her head. She felt mentally exhausted, worn out by all the work they’d already done. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to regroup and launch a PR offensive on Little Monkham’s ungrateful population. ‘I don’t know, Ness, maybe we’re not—’
The door swung back, interrupting Sam. Both sisters turned in some surprise and Sam saw a red-headed woman wearing a fur coat and thigh-high boots standing in the doorway.
‘Hell’s teeth, it’s deader than Oliver Reed in here,’ the woman announced. ‘What did you do, threaten them all with a makeover?’
Sam couldn’t help herself: she laughed. ‘Something like that,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Welcome to The Star and Sixpence. What can I get you?’
The woman tottered forward and perched on a bar stool. ‘I don’t mind, darling, just make it a double.’ She waited until Sam was behind the bar and stared intently. ‘You have his dimples.’
‘Whose?’ Sam said, her bewildered gaze flickering towards Nessie. What the hell . . . ?
Nessie hurried forwards. ‘Let me introduce you to Ruby Cabernet – Dad’s girlfriend.’
‘A boycott?’ Nessie yelped, staring in horror across the bar at Owen the next day. ‘Is she trying to close The Star and Sixpence permanently?’
Owen shook his head. ‘I doubt it. She’s just showing you – or more correctly, Sam – who’s boss. Franny doesn’t like to be crossed and this is her way of making sure you don’t do it again.’
‘I’ll show her who’s boss,’ Sam muttered, her stomach twisting with pent-up fury. ‘Who does she think she is – Don Corleone?’
‘Stop, Sam,’ Nessie said. ‘We talked about this, remember? There’s no point in confronting Franny head on. We need to go around her and appeal to the villagers’ curiosity.’
‘How are you going to do that?’ Owen asked.
Sam took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Nessie was right, of course – the best way to make Franny irrelevant was to break her stranglehold on them and the only way to do that was to tempt customers into the pub. She was fairly sure she could count on Ruby’s help; once her astonishment that her father had ever managed to pull such a woman had worn off, she’d begun to admire Ruby’s humour and quick-wit, not to mention her elegance. That admiration was only slightly tempered by the amount of gin she’d seen Ruby put away, but since the money Ruby paid for her drinks was the only income they’d taken that night, Sam wasn’t complaining. ‘This isn’t anything new but we’ll have a Happy Hour – buy one, get one free on house wines, beers and spirits, starting tonight. That should tempt some of them. And it’s really short notice but on Tuesday night, I’ve called in a huge favour with a celebrity friend and we’re hosting an “Evening With” event.’
‘Anyone I know?’ Ruby asked, her eyes dancing.
‘I’d be very surprised if you didn’t,’ Sam said, grinning. ‘And on New Year’s Eve, we’re pulling out all the stops and throwing a good old-fashioned party. I’ve even got one of London’s top cocktail-makers designing us a signature drink.’
Nessie leaned forwards. ‘We wondered if Kathryn’s band might like to play – you said their gig got cancelled. What do you think?’
Owen smiled. ‘I’m sure they’d love to. I’ll bring Luke along too, if that’s okay?’
‘Absolutely, the more the merrier,’ Nessie said. ‘He can sleep in the spare room if he gets tired.’
‘Ha, no chance of that,’ Owen replied. ‘He’ll still be going when the rest of us are going to bed.’
Sam watched her sister closely. There was no sign now of the reticence she’d shown around Owen when she’d first met him. She was completely relaxed in his company and although it would be a stretch to call what either of them was doing as flirting, there was definite potential. Worth fanning the flames a little, Sam decided with satisfaction. He’d make a good starter boyfriend for Nessie, someone to restore her confidence. And maybe if things went well, Owen Rhys might turn out to be more. Time would tell.
‘We’re going to need to hit the ground running,’ she explained, dragging her thoughts back to the plan she and Nessie had put together the night before. ‘We’ll get some flyers printed off tomorrow and hand-deliver them around the village. What we really need to do is generate some killer word of mouth buzz, though.’
‘I get the feeling you’ve done this before,’ Owen said.
‘Close,’ Sam admitted. ‘Now, here’s where you come in . . .’
Chapter Ten
Nessie had to hand it to Sam: she was as good as her word. The following morning, she went on a charm offensive, stopping people in the street, knocking on doors and calling into every business in the village apart from the Post Office.
‘Happy Hour is between six and seven p.m. every evening until Twelfth Night,’ she said, brandishing the flyers she’d printed. ‘And you won’t want to miss tomorrow night – it’s a Star and Sixpence exclusive. Trust me, you cannot get this experience anywhere else.’
‘An Evening with Nick Borrowdale,’ Martha read, gazing down at the flyer Sam had pressed into her hand. ‘The Nick Borrowdale? The one from Smugglers’ Inn?’
‘The same,’ Sam replied cheerfully. ‘And you could meet him if you come to The Star and Sixpence tomorrow night.’
Martha looked tempted. ‘But . . .’
‘But what?’ Sam said. She leaned forward. ‘Worried what Franny will say? Look at it this way – can she give you access to Nick Borrowdale in all his smouldersome, dark-eyed glory? Can she bring him close enough to almost touch?’
Martha’s eyes were like dinner plates. ‘Really?’ she breathed. ‘That close?’
Sam nodded. ‘And I hear he’s single at the moment,’ she said, knowing perfectly well that Martha wasn’t. ‘Did you notice the complimentary champagne cocktail, by the way?’
‘Oh!’ Martha squeaked. ‘I’ll be there. Definitely.’
‘Great,’ Sam said, smiling. ‘Be sure to tell your friends and family, too.’
Martha nodded absently, her gaze fixed on the flyer. ‘Yeah, of course. Friends and family . . .’
Sam smiled at Nessie and pointed towards the butchers. ‘How about there next?’
Nessie gazed at her doubtfully. She didn’t imagine Nick’s photo and the offer of a Kir Royale would have quite the same effect on the burly brothers who supplied the village’s
meat but you never could tell. ‘Are you sure Nick will be able to make it?’ Nessie asked. ‘What if he already has plans? He must be awfully busy.’
‘Way ahead of you, Ness,’ Sam replied. She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. ‘I’ve booked a look-alike to come in his place.’
Nessie felt her mouth drop open. ‘What? But – but—’
Sam took one look at her horrified expression and laughed. ‘I’m kidding. Actually, I’ve already spoken to Nick. It’s all sorted. He’s arriving around six o’clock tomorrow.’
‘I hope this works,’ Nessie said, biting her lip. She hadn’t mentioned anything to Sam but between the expensive renovations and the new stock they’d ordered, their savings were starting to run alarmingly low. In fact, if trade didn’t start to pick up soon, they’d have to dip into the emergency fund. And once that was gone . . .
‘Of course it’ll work,’ Sam replied confidently. ‘And once they see how amazing the pub looks, they won’t be able to resist coming back for more on New Year’s Eve. Trust me, we’re going to be turning them away.’
Nessie was on her way back from coffee with Kathryn that afternoon when she saw the first snowdrops. They were nestled under a tree on the edge of the cottage garden and looked like tiny white bells among the lush green leaves. She stopped for a closer look, admiring the delicate blooms lit by the late afternoon sun, and saw that these were the first of many: tell-tale green shoots were poking out all across the dull mud around the edge of the grass, with plenty more along the stone wall that formed the boundary between the cottage and the pub. There might even be some in the neglected beer garden itself if she looked.
She picked her way over to the wall and leaned over, searching for more snowdrops. Sure enough, there were plenty; not quite in bloom but a forest of unopened buds and sturdy green spikes under the trees at the back. They’d make a carpet of white once the flowers were out. An unaccustomed sense of peace flowed into Nessie and she rested her head on her arms. It was less than a month since she and Sam had arrived – how things had changed from that dark December night. The nights were still dark, of course but here was a sign that spring was on its way. It seemed as though the pub was waking up after a long winter too – shedding its old skin and starting afresh. It was starting to feel like they belonged, although Sam hadn’t had much alternative and Nessie knew she missed the excitement and sparkle of her old life. Even so, her sister had mellowed a bit from when they’d first arrived and Nessie was confident she was settling down. All they needed now were the customers.
‘Lovely, aren’t they?’
Nessie jumped at the sound of Owen’s voice – she’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him approach. She let her thudding heartbeat slow before half-turning to smile in welcome. ‘Beautiful,’ she agreed. ‘Yours are better, though.’
‘They’re early this year,’ Owen said. ‘We don’t normally see them before February, although I think they’ve been out at the end of December once or twice.’
‘I’m glad they’re up early,’ Nessie said. ‘They make me think of new beginnings.’
Owen’s dark eyes rested solemnly on her face. ‘There’s a lot to be said for those.’
She returned his gaze, enjoying the chance to look at him. He was as solid as ever, easy-going and uncomplicated, but Nessie wasn’t fooled; Owen Rhys had depths. But there were shadows too, the loss of his wife had left its mark. Reaching the decision to leave Patrick had been hard but it had been her choice. Owen had been given no choice at all and she wondered if there was any way to begin again after something like that. Surely he would always feel the gap where his lost love should be.
‘You’ve had your hair done,’ Owen said, gazing at her neatly trimmed, expensively highlighted head. ‘It looks lovely.’
Nessie felt the start of a blush and dug her fingernails into her palm. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It needed attention so badly that Sam said she wouldn’t admit to Nick we were related if I didn’t do something to fix it before tomorrow night. Are you coming?’
Owen shook his head. ‘Kathryn is. She told me in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t babysit Luke because she was meeting her future husband.’
Nessie grinned. Was there a woman alive who didn’t fancy Nick Borrowdale? Actually, he reminded her a lot of Owen – the same brooding Celtic looks and smouldering dark eyes, although she guessed Owen was nearer forty than thirty. ‘She might have to join the queue. Judging from the flurry of ticket orders, half the village is coming.’
‘Good,’ Owen said. ‘And the New Year’s Eve party should be fantastic.’
‘I hope so,’ Nessie sighed. ‘We’ll push the tickets for that tomorrow and hope it’s not a repeat of Boxing Day. I don’t think I could bear it if no one came again.’
His eyes softened. ‘They’ll come. A new year means a new beginning, remember?’
It would be a fresh start in more ways than one, Nessie decided once she was back inside The Star and Sixpence. Her sister was right – it was time to put the past behind her and start living again. Whether Sam was prepared to heed her own advice was another matter entirely.
Chapter Eleven
‘Joss, I think the Grail’s gone again,’ Sam called, puffing a strand of hair away from her clammy forehead and releasing the sputtering beer pump. ‘Can you change the barrel?’
The bar was elbow to elbow with customers, all waiting to be served. To say Nick’s appearance had been a success was the understatement of the year – Sam couldn’t imagine The Star and Sixpence ever being so full. And it seemed that sighing over handsome Irishmen was a thirsty business – once the complimentary cocktails had been drunk, the crowds had turned their attention to Nessie’s carefully balanced wine and cocktail list with gusto. The audience wasn’t predominantly female either – there were a surprising number of men in the audience. Husbands and boyfriends, Sam decided, come to make sure Nick didn’t take a shine to their women. They were thirsty too.
‘On it,’ Joss called and vanished down the stairs to the cellar.
‘Sorry,’ Sam said, smiling at Father Goodluck. ‘It’ll be back on in a moment.’
‘No problem,’ the vicar said, smiling. ‘You have a good crowd here tonight.’
Sam nodded, gazing past him at the throng. Ruby was there, of course, swapping star-studded stories with Nick and earning some sharp looks from the women around her. Martha was there too; she’d been sat in the front row during Nick’s talk and had gazed in rapt adoration throughout. Kathryn couldn’t take her eyes off him either and Sam made a mental note to introduce her. There was no sign of Franny, or Henry, and a couple of other villagers were missing but Sam hadn’t really expected the stalwarts of the Little Monkham Preservation Society to give in so easily. She was confident they wouldn’t be able to resist the New Year’s Eve party, especially when she played her trump card.
She returned her gaze to the vicar and favoured him with a warm smile. ‘It’s amazing what a sprinkling of star-dust will do.’
‘And a glimmer of genius,’ Father Goodluck said. ‘But don’t let me keep you. See to your other patrons.’
Sam threw him a grateful look and moved on to the next customer. A few minutes later Joss reappeared. ‘All done,’ he said, brushing past her closer than was strictly necessary in the narrow space behind the bar. She shook her head in wry amusement. Nessie was right, she was going to have to do something about him before long. But not tonight – tonight was all about congratulating themselves on a job well done.
By eleven o’clock, the crowd had thinned and Nick was trying not to yawn. Sam reached for the old-fashioned brass bell that hung over the bar and rang it briskly. ‘Time, please, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for your custom and goodnight.’
She and Nessie made their way round the tables, collecting up the empty glasses. When Sam reached Nick and Ruby, she stopped. ‘Listen to you two luvvies,’ she said, grinning. ‘You’re supposed to be working the cr
owd, Nick, not talking shop.’
Nick raised an eyebrow. ‘You can take the girl out of PR,’ he said to Ruby with a sigh. ‘I’ve dished out more than my fair share of charm tonight, thank you.’
‘He has,’ Ruby confirmed. ‘I’m sure I saw him sweet-talking Percy Miller at one point and he’s an insufferable old bore. If that isn’t above and beyond the call of duty I don’t know what is.’
Sam reached out and squeezed Nick’s arm. ‘Thank you,’ she said sincerely. ‘I know how busy you are. Nessie and I really appreciate you doing this.’
He smiled. ‘It’s the least I can do. When are you coming back to London, anyway? I miss you.’
Sam laughed. ‘I’m sure you do, Mr Glitz Magazine’s Most Sexy.’
He regarded her seriously, his dark eyes concerned. ‘I mean it. You should come back. Face up to whatever drove you here.’
Sam hesitated, acutely aware of Ruby listening in. The truth was, she missed London; she missed the energy and excitement of the city. And she missed her social life. It had been hard to cut herself off in the middle of nowhere, much harder than it had been for Nessie, especially when everything in Little Monkham felt so claustrophobic. It didn’t help that she wasn’t used to hiding – the opposite, in fact. ‘It’s complicated,’ she said, choosing her words with care. ‘And Ness needs me. You understand, don’t you?’
He reached out and enveloped her in a hug. ‘Are you kidding? Of course I do. I’m all in favour of getting away from it all every now and then. But not forever.’
Sam leaned into him, closing her eyes. ‘I’ll come back when I can.’
He released her and stepped back. ‘Okay. The great and the good of London need you. I need you.’
There were one or two people who definitely didn’t need her, Sam thought, but she kept that sentiment to herself. ‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay here tonight?’ she said, noticing Nessie watching from behind the bar with slightly narrowed eyes. ‘It’s a long drive home and I’d definitely be public enemy number one if you fell asleep at the wheel.’
Snowdrops at the Star and Sixpence Page 7
