The South West Series Box Set

by Rebecca Paulinyi

  “That’s when they come along,” Lee said. “When you least expect it - and with the worst possible timing, in my case!”

  “Hey,” Beth said, sipping her rapidly cooling tea. “It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

  “It did,” Lee said. “Although I still think mum thinks I’ve lost my mind, getting remarried, starting a family so soon after getting divorced.”

  “She adores Holly, you know that. And she’s the queen of judging, that’s not going to change overnight I’m afraid to say. Besides, all the timing proves is that Nathan - scumbag that he was - was not the right person for you. He wasn’t your happily ever after.”

  “I suppose you’re right. And is mystery man your happily ever after?”

  “Lee, I don’t even know if I believe in happily ever afters for myself. I’m happy right now - I’m good with that.”

  Lee gave her knee a squeeze. “It might be him, it might not, but you’re young, Beth - there is definitely the perfect match out there for you.”

  “Easy to say when you’ve found yours!”

  Chapter 19

  As predicted, the week dragged for Beth, even doing a job she loved. For two evenings in a row she sat with her notebook on her lap, not writing, daydreaming and struggling to focus. It was by the third night that she’d had a serious chat with herself: this was not the way she was willing to spend her life. She was not going to wile her life away waiting for a date with a mysterious man. She was not going to stop doing the things she loved because there was a man in her life. She was Beth Davis, she had moved her life, she had started again, and as dreamy as Caspian was, he was not the centre of the universe.

  She needed to be the centre of her own universe.

  And so on Wednesday night, with a cup of tea and pen, she let the words flow out of her once more, taking inspiration from the grounds at Greenway, and wrote a scene that made her want to cry - first with sadness, then with pride at the emotion she felt she was evoking - in herself, at least. Whether anyone else would feel that way was another question.

  Adelaide sat on the wrought-iron bench, watching a mother push a perambulator past the lake, seemingly trying to get the baby within to sleep. Her heart hurt; she was sure that was all lost to her now. The hopes she had harboured all her life of a love-match, of children, of a life in the country where she could enjoy days out in the park…gone. Tears wended their way down her cheeks. Yes, her sleuthing had solved the murder. Yes, for the first time in months, she felt safe to be outside, not worrying that the murderer was bent on killing off another member of the family.

  But now she knew. Knew her husband to be a murderer. Knew that he had killed his father to be able to get a divorce. Would she have been next? He had sworn not, when he’d begged her not to go to the police…

  There was no hope of falling in love with her husband now. And no hope of anyone else ever wanting to marry the divorced wife of a convicted murderer.

  She lost herself in the words, even re-reading everything she had written so far in this beautiful notebook and feeling like there was a real story in there. Sure, it was rough, and it needed polishing, but she had never produced anything in her life that she had felt so proud of. She wasn’t sure she’d ever created anything, not of her own volition.

  ***

  She threw herself into tidying and organising her flat that weekend, realising that, somewhere along the way, there were boxes she had forgotten to unpack and dishes that had ended up stacked and waiting to be washed. She wished she were one of those people who washed up as soon as a meal was finished - or even while it was being cooked; one of those people who put clothes away as soon as they were dry, and never ended up with a pile of clothes on a chair or in a basket. But try as she might, she just was not one of those people, and so her adult life had been spent leaving chores she really should complete and then catching up on them at weekends. Of course, when her weekends had been more filled with late nights and hangovers, there was even less motivation to get it done.

  Now, when there was something to look forward to on Sunday evening, she found that motivation - and by lunch time on Sunday, the flat looked better than when she moved in.

  Sunday roast at 6pm, James is cooking, you’re very welcome! X

  Beth grinned; her sister was, as always, trying to look after her. She was fairly sure Lee thought she was living off fish and chips, which was only half true. Granted, a fish and chip shop being below was a dangerous temptation, and there had already been another evening that week where Sam had begged her to step in and had paid her in cash and a fish supper. But she was making meals in between, and as nice as roast dinner sounded, tonight was already spoken for.

  Thank you, but got plans already, remember! ;) x

  Ah yes, the hot date?! The reply came almost instantly.

  We’ll see!!

  Just a smiley face was sent back, and Beth grinned. She felt a bubbling in her stomach that she was sure was nerves, but also a hint of excitement. She was finding it hard to believe that the date last week, that night, that morning, had been as amazing as she remembered. But when she did remember it… sure, she was nervous, but there was definitely anticipation mixed in there too.

  She began getting ready early, remembering last week’s indecision, starting with a relaxing hot shower - well, a shower that was meant to be relaxing, but ended up with her cutting her leg on a razor blade that was clearly past its best and hopping round the bathroom, trying to get a plaster before she bled over her nice white towels.

  “Perfect,” she muttered to herself, sat on the bed with her hair wrapped up in one towel and another around her, feeling cross and irritated and not the relaxed, sexy Beth she had hoped to be when she emerged from the shower.

  She let herself glance out towards the water, not worrying too much about people seeing her in just her towel, and took a few deep, calming breaths as she watched the sun glistening off the water, and the boats moving gently with the motion of the water. In, out. In, out. This was going to be a good evening, she could feel it, and a couple of cuts on her legs were not going to ruin that.

  ***

  She considered waiting outside but thought this might look a little desperate. While she was keen to see Caspian again, it wasn't just desperation that made her consider it. She was trying to spare him having to come in and talk to Sam, who would undoubtedly be working in the fish shop that evening. There was an external buzzer to her door; perhaps he would figure that out.

  She had no idea where they were going on this date. She presumed it would include dinner, but at the moment she couldn't think of food; her stomach was full of flutters and jitters.

  At exactly six that evening there was a knock on her door. She smiled: he had obviously got past the security and up to knock directly. She had one last glance in the mirror - black jeans, black pumps and a floaty blue top, that she hoped would be appropriate wherever they went - grabbed a handbag and opened the door.

  There he was.

  She’d wondered in the intervening week whether he could possibly be as good looking as she’d remembered, but oh my, he was. He was dressed in black jeans himself, with a dark grey shirt that was open at the collar; his black hair was slightly ruffled as if he’d run his hands through it recently and his skin looked a gorgeous brown where he had clearly been enjoying the sun. She wondered whether he swam in sunlight as well as in moonlight, for that would explain the gorgeous colour he was.

  “Hi,” she said with a smile, and his white teeth were on full display as he grinned back.

  “Evening,” he said. “Shall we?”

  Beth nodded, locking the door behind her and heading down the steps. Sam was swapping over with a new recruit for the evening and made no comment out loud - although Beth was sure she'd hear something about this later. They stepped outside into the warm balmy evening air and Beth glanced at Caspian questioningly. “Lead the way,” she said.

  And he did.

  Without a word he
grabbed her hand and pulled her across the road. She knew she was paying no attention to whether there was any traffic, but simply trusting him to move her safely across. In her mind, all the thoughts were about the fact that he had taken her hand. The thrill of feeling his warm, slightly rough hand around hers; the tingle from where they connected; that silly teenage feeling when someone touches you when you're not quite expecting it.

  “The ferry?” she said, raising her eyebrows as they stood in line by the wall where she waited every workday.

  “You'll see,” he said with a grin.

  “Well, this is just like my morning commute,” she said with a laugh.

  “Lucky you,” he said. “I think some people would kill for a commute like this; when they're stuck in their cars queuing to get into London.”

  “Believe me, I'm not complaining. So, how's your week been?” she asked.

  “Busy,” he said. “I had meetings in London so was up there for four days. Got back late last night, took Mum out for lunch today and now - here I am!”

  “You're a very busy man,” she said. “Maybe I'm lucky you made room in your schedule for me!”

  Caspian shook his head; “I would have rearranged the schedule, if it hadn’t worked,” he said. “I've been looking forward to this evening.”

  “Me too,” Beth said honestly, well aware that he had not let go of her hand, even though he was no longer propelling her forward. There was a moment where their eyes met; where tension crackled in the air; when she was reminded of last Sunday morning, of the possibilities that lay ahead of them. It was almost overwhelming and so she couldn't help but make a joke just to lighten the tension a little - as delicious as it was to revel in it.

  “It’ll be even more exciting when I know what we're actually doing. I hope it's not rock climbing or white water rafting,” she said with a laugh. “I know what you're like with your sports and I'm definitely not dressed for that.”

  He laughed. “You look beautiful,” he said, not shy about complimenting her although she couldn't help but look away at the words. “But no, don't worry, no extreme sports - not today, anyway. Maybe for the next date.” He winked and she laughed as the ferry came into port and they boarded, along with eight or so cars and a few foot passengers.

  Instead of taking the smaller ferry that she usually caught straight to Greenway, they had boarded the main ferry between Dartmouth and Kingswear, and were soon standing and looking over the side as the boat cut through the water beneath them. It was still warm, and Beth kept her sunglasses on as she looked over the water, back at her home.

  “Beautiful view, isn’t it,” she said, feeling Caspian’s fingertips against hers and finding it hard to think of anything to talk about that wasn’t the weather, or the setting.

  “Mmhmm,” he agreed, glancing down at her and then back towards Dartmouth. “I’ve always loved getting this ferry. We used to take the car on and even then my mum would insist on us all getting out and standing here - no matter the weather, or how short the journey was!”

  Beth laughed; “She sounds like my sort of woman. Appreciate what’s on your doorstep!”

  The journey was slow, but neither minded; the sun glinted off the water and reflected in their smiles, their laughter carrying across the fairly calm waters surrounding them.

  They disembarked into Kingswear, and walked up the hill still hand-in-hand.

  “Do you miss it down here, when you’re working away?” Beth asked.

  “Definitely - especially the sea. Although when I’m here, sometimes I find myself missing the bustle of the city… the chance of getting a taxi without booking a week in advance. The anonymity of stepping into a street where no-one knew you at primary school or chats with your great aunt on a regular basis.”

  “Anonymity is overrated,” Beth said. “It’s all well and good until you actually need someone around…”

  “You’ve got a point,” he agreed, pulling her sideways into a yellow building.

  “Where on Earth are we going, Caspian?”

  “I promise we’re staying on Earth, Elizabeth,” he said with a grin, giving nothing away. Beth glanced around at the signs and notices on the walls.

  “A train station?”

  “Excellent deduction, Miss Marple.”

  “To where?”

  “Do you ever just throw yourself in the moment and not ask questions?” he asked with a grin, and she opened her mouth to respond again, before shutting it and following his advice.

  He already had tickets, it seemed, and they passed through a gate onto a platform where a regal looking steam train stood. It felt like something from the movies, or like a grand visit to the past; a relic of a romantic time long gone where train journeys were new and a great adventure, and where people ran along platforms waving goodbye or declaring their love. She almost voiced her thoughts before realising that they sounded like she spent a little too much of her time watching old romantic films - or that she was expecting some declaration of love herself, which she most definitely wasn’t.

  “You can talk you know,” Caspian said, raising his eyebrows at her prolonged silence.

  “Well, I wasn’t sure if I’d get into trouble,” she said, sticking her tongue out for good effect.

  “I think you’re all sorts of trouble,” Caspian said. “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “All aboard!” he said with childish glee, pulling her down the platform to an open door labelled ‘Carriage C’.

  “Good evening sir, madam.” At the door was a man dressed in a green uniform, with a black hat and shiny black buttons. “May I see your tickets please?”

  Caspian handed them over, and the gentleman clipped both before handing them back. “Please follow me.”

  Beth didn’t speak - not because she was afraid of getting in trouble, but because she was a little in awe of her surroundings. Green lamps lit the walls, although the sun still streamed in from outside. In the middle of the carriage was a chandelier, which felt like it belonged in a fancy dining room rather than a train, and gave the whole place a delicious air of decadence and intrigue. The tables were set, almost exclusively for two, with white tablecloths and serviettes, and a myriad of shiny silver cutlery, with a small flower and a tall candle in the middle.

  They were led to a table in the centre, next to a window that looked out into the quaint little station, and the gentleman pulled out her chair for her before lighting the candle in the middle. Two other tables were occupied; one by an elderly couple, the other by a young couple who were looking at each other as starry eyed as Beth felt she kept staring at Caspian.

  “We depart in fifteen minutes,” he informed them. “And dinner will be served in half an hour. Can I get you a drink?”

  Beth felt speechless, and glanced at the drinks menu to give herself time to collect her thoughts. It was so different from what she had been expecting - so wonderful - and although she was looking at the words in front of her, she found they weren’t going in very successfully.

  “Are you happy with wine?” Caspian asked, breaking the silence. “Or would you rather have something else?”

  “Wine’s good. White, please.”

  He ordered a bottle of white with a fancy sounding name that Beth didn’t pay much attention to, as well as a jug of water, and once the waiter had slipped away to a different carriage, Beth met Caspian’s eye across the table.

  He was grinning broadly,a light in his eyes that was infectious.

  “Wow,” Beth said, grinning back. “An impressive second date, I’ll say that.”

  “We’ve barely started,” he said, looking younger somehow in his excitement.

  “Where exactly are we going, then?”

  “All around the area - ending up in Paignton, with a three-course dinner on the way, and I’ve been promised some amazing views.”

  Their wine arrived, and Beth took a sip, savouring how cold it was and the crisp taste, knowing she should take it slowly or she’d end up
very quickly drunk. She felt tipsy already; intoxicated by her surroundings, by his thoughtfulness, by Caspian himself…

  “Thank you, Caspian,” she said, as they clinked glasses. “What an amazing idea.”

  Dinner was, of course, delicious, although Beth wasn’t sure she would remember any of it afterwards. The views of Devon were breathtaking, bathed in the setting sun; glistening waters, waving palm trees (which she had not expected in this part of the world, and which Caspian later informed her were not actually palm trees, but very similar looking plants) and the sound of the steam engine as it chugged through the glorious surroundings. Wine flowed as easily as the conversation, and somehow they found themselves chugging through the English Riviera, sharing stories of their childhoods as if they had known one another for much longer than they had.