Spring Tides at Swallowtail Bay: The perfect laugh out loud escapist romantic comedy for summer! (Swallowtail Bay, Book 1)

by Katie Ginger

  Miles liked Lexi a lot and hoped it was just some early morning grumpiness creeping out from Kiera. ‘You’re not even listening to me,’ he said, giving his hair one last dry then throwing the towel into the washing basket. He’d meant for his comment to be slightly teasing but it came out rather sharply. Lately, she always seemed to be thinking about something else when he was talking.

  Kiera turned, startled at his tone. ‘I only got distracted for a minute.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Miles, moving over and kissing her. ‘I’m being grumpy. And we can nip in and see the shop if you want to.’

  ‘If it’s too painful we don’t have to go. I just wanted to get a good look at our new neighbour. We can’t ignore her forever.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he conceded, going to find some clothes in his side of the wardrobe. He didn’t particularly want to see the shop after that horrible dog had bitten him. Okay, he hadn’t quite taken a chunk out of his hand, but Miles was still right. If it had been a child it could have been much more serious. He did, however, need to get over this feeling of injustice that Herbert had sold the shop to her just because he’d liked her more than him. He was perfectly likeable, Miles thought. Lots of people liked him. He just needed to wait and find a new place. ‘Get dressed then,’ Miles said cheerfully. ‘We can go out for breakfast and call in on our way.’

  Kiera went off to the wardrobe. ‘Can we not go to that horrid café where that mad old woman keeps accosting you?’

  ‘Vivien?’ he said with a chuckle.

  ‘Yes. She’s awful and just prattles on about the good old days. I don’t think I can cope with her this morning.’

  Miles had a huge soft spot for Vivien. They’d been neighbours when he was young, before his parents moved. All the while he was growing up his mum had popped in to help her out when she needed it. Then as a grown man, when his parents had moved away, he’d carried on. Vivien had been there for him when he’d really needed it, when he hadn’t felt able to talk to anyone else. Kiera had never had the patience for Vivien’s stories so it was probably a good thing their paths didn’t cross that often.

  ‘We can go to the nice place in the centre of town with the big sofas and industrial tables,’ Kiera said, pulling out different clothes from the wardrobe and examining them.

  ‘But they make terrible coffee,’ Miles replied, buttoning up his shirt. He spied some shopping bags in front of the wardrobe door. Lately, whenever she went to London to work she came home with more bags than her clients.

  ‘I like their coffee. And they do a fabulous smashed avocado on rye.’

  Inwardly, Miles groaned. He’d been travelling a lot lately and hadn’t eaten last night when he got in. All he’d wanted was to get home as fast as possible and crawl into bed. What he really fancied this morning was a massive sausage baguette smothered in brown sauce and a large coffee the way Raina or Lexi made it. Raina didn’t use fancy named beans just really good-quality ones – and she always got the temperature exactly right so you got the full flavour of the coffee and none of the bitterness. Smashed avocado was fine if you weren’t six foot two and absolutely starving. He’d be hungry again by eleven o’clock. Maybe they could call in and get one of Raina’s cakes on the way back. Tucking in his shirt, he said, ‘Shall we go then?’

  Deciding between two different shirts, Kiera said, ‘Go? Darling, I haven’t even put my primer on yet, or chosen my outfit. Give me an hour and I’ll be with you.’

  Miles rolled his eyes and went downstairs to the kitchen. At least he had time to read the paper before they went out, but he’d need a snack to see him through till breakfast.

  ***

  It was just gone ten o’clock when Kiera joined Miles downstairs. As usual she looked gorgeous. Her tall frame had been slipped into a pair of tight skinny jeans and her three-inch heels made her almost as tall as him. Her face was perfectly made up, hiding any blemishes, though he liked seeing the real her with the freckles, the imperfections; he had no idea why she hated them so much. As she passed, she pouted her lips, ever ready for a kiss. Kiera grabbed her Chanel bag from the kitchen side and gave Miles a peck on the cheek. ‘All ready?’

  ‘Yep. I’m gasping for a coffee.’ Miles refolded his newspaper. ‘And I’m starving.’

  Kiera took Miles’s arm and they walked through the back streets into town. Strolling along the tiny cobblestone roads amongst the old-fashioned houses, he took a deep breath and smelt the sea air. The beach was only a few streets away and you could hear the sea and its gentle, calming murmur. He loved Swallowtail Bay. When he was younger and first got the job, being away from home so often had been exciting. Now though, it felt more and more of a wrench each time he had to leave, and Swallowtail Bay pulled at his heart, whispering for him to come home. He couldn’t really understand why, when they’d first met, Kiera had wanted to leave so badly. She’d tried everything to convince her rich father to buy her a flat in London, but, ever business-minded, he’d been adamant she had to have a job before he shelled out on exorbitant London prices.

  Miles could see it made perfect sense from his almost-father-in-law’s perspective but Kiera had never really found a career she could stick at. Having a trust fund she could live off made it hard for her to focus too. Personal shopping was the closest she’d come, even if she was a bit picky as to who she took on. But since she’d begun travelling to London for her clients, she hadn’t cared about moving there, happy to stay in Swallowtail Bay with him.

  They passed the local butcher’s and Miles nodded at the owner who raised a hand in greeting. Then there was the chocolate shop selling beautiful hand-crafted chocolates. How could anyone want to be anywhere else? Everything you ever needed and all the luxuries you didn’t need but fancied were right here. This was perfect, idyllic. On the uneven cobbles Kiera swayed and tipped towards Miles. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Flat shoes were much more practical on roads like this, but Kiera wouldn’t be seen dead in them. The only ones she owned were top-of-the-range branded trainers for her personal training sessions.

  They entered the swanky new café and Miles ducked to avoid a low-hanging bare light bulb. The walls were painted a dark slate-grey and the lighting had a strange orange luminescent quality. With steel pipes fastened all around the walls he felt like he’d entered a spaceship. He looked at the chalkboard behind the cheery barista and ordered a large filter coffee and a cheese and ham croissant. Of course, it wasn’t written as a cheese and ham croissant, it was written as a freshly baked artisan croissant made with Italian yeast, stuffed with Parma ham and organic Kentish goat’s cheese, but it was basically the same thing. Kiera led them to a table in the window and sank into one of the old worn leather sofas. Miles sat opposite her and felt decidedly uncomfortable. How was he supposed to eat his food when it was about a foot higher than him?

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ said Kiera, checking her reflection in a strange patch of stainless steel that had been pinned to the wall beside her.

  ‘Am I? Sorry.’

  ‘What are you thinking about?’

  ‘I was just thinking about the shop,’ he lied. Admitting he hated this place would be more than his life was worth. It was the type of place Kiera loved because it was more like somewhere you’d find in the city but it had never been Miles’s scene. He liked places that were cosy and comfortable, where he could take his kids when he had some.

  ‘Herbert’s old shop? The one that woman stole from you?’

  Miles had been so angry when he’d found out Herbert was going to sell to a stranger from Oxford rather than a local boy like him. The estate agent had said the main reason was because she was a cash buyer, but Miles had a large deposit and a business loan agreed in principle. There was no reason his offer should have been rejected. Deep down he knew it was because he’d pursued it too aggressively and this woman had taken the opposite approach and been super charming. He hated that he’d chosen the wrong tactic and had been ungracious in defeat. Something that still w
eighed on his mind. He’d even thought about getting Herbert’s forwarding address and apologising, but hadn’t yet been brave enough to ask.

  ‘It’s totally unfair,’ Kiera continued. ‘Herbert was just a dirty old pervert who preferred a woman.’

  At the time, Miles had let his emotions get the better of him, ranting and raging in front of Kiera, but he was sure he’d never used words like that. Her loyalty was a wonderful quality but sometimes she was incredibly harsh and often spoke without thinking, saying whatever was on her mind. Whatever had happened, he shouldn’t have been rude about Herbert who had been a kind and generous old man and a good neighbour. It was something he deeply regretted now. ‘You shouldn’t say that, honey,’ he said gently. ‘Anyway, it’s all over and done with. Time to move on.’

  ‘Poor darling,’ Kiera replied, reaching out and running her hand over his cheek. ‘You’re really suffering, aren’t you?’

  ‘Let’s just enjoy our breakfast,’ Miles replied in a conciliatory tone. As their food was delivered, he leaned forwards and lifted himself from the depths of the sofa, hoping if he perched on the edge he’d be able to get to at least eye level with his croissant. ‘Hmmm, this smells good.’ He gave a small smile and took a bite. It was rather nice, but nothing could ever beat an enormous sausage baguette.

  Kiera reached over, grabbed one of the celeb magazines from the rack on the wall and flipped the pages backwards and forwards. As she gossiped away her voice faded in his ears and he found himself thinking again about the town he’d grown up in and the idea of settling down. He and Kiera had been engaged for two years now and had never got around to setting a date for the wedding.

  Miles recalled the day they’d met at the tiny Swallowtail Bay train station nearly four years ago. She’d just returned from a weekend in London and he’d been in Leeds at a conference. It was fate, he’d decided, because he’d been forced onto the train as his car was in the garage. He’d thought he knew everyone in town but as they went for a drink, she explained that though her parents lived there, she’d been sent to boarding schools her whole life and often stayed in London with friends. Miles’s heartstrings had tugged so hard they almost shot out of his chest trying to wrap around Kiera. They’d been together ever since but, with his job and always being sent here or there, they’d never got around to organising the wedding. If he’d learned anything from losing out on the shop, it was that you never knew what would or wouldn’t happen in life, and you couldn’t keep putting stuff on hold. It was time to set that date, something he should have done a long time ago.

  ‘Kiera,’ he began a little nervously. ‘What do you think about actually setting a date for the wedding?’

  Kiera stopped reading and slowly turned her head. ‘Really?’

  Miles nodded. ‘We’ve been engaged for two years and our parents keep asking if we’ve set the date yet. I think we should actually do it. Don’t you?’

  She slowly closed the magazine, considering what he’d said. ‘Why now? You’ve not been bothered before.’

  He’d hoped for a resounding yes and excitement so her reticence was a little worrying, even though it was a valid question. ‘I just think we’ve let life pass us by long enough. Don’t you want to?’ he asked, as nerves bubbled inside him. ‘It’s about time we got another ring to go with that engagement one, isn’t it?’

  The gentle lines of her forehead eased as her grin grew wider. ‘Of course I want to, darling.’ She jumped up from the seat opposite him and onto his lap. Relief washed over him. ‘Yes. Let’s do it. But I get to pick the venue.’

  ‘You can have whatever you want,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Just tell me the date and I’ll turn up.’ He kissed her and for the first time in a long while felt like his life was finally moving forwards. When the old man sat behind them loudly cleared his throat Miles pulled away. Kiera giggled and wiped the lip gloss from Miles’s lips before returning to her seat.

  ‘I was thinking we’d have a church wedding at the tiny church down the other end of town. The one with the cute gate over that little stream – we’ll get amazing pictures there. I already know what sort of a dress I want. Then a big reception at the new hotel on the seafront. How about a spring wedding next year? We could get married a year from today? Or maybe April? March is still quite chilly. April has more sunshine. Oh my gosh, everyone is going to be so jealous.’

  Miles sipped his coffee, glad that she was so happy at the prospect of finally becoming Mrs Parker.

  ‘I’ve got to ring Claire and tell her. And we have to go shopping ASAP. There’s so much to sort out. And I’ll have to book Flavia to come down from London to do my hair, and Ronaldo to come and colour it. No one around here will be good enough. I need to look perfect. Actually, I might have to go up and see Ronaldo. He’s so busy.’ Miles nodded along, trying to keep up as the words tumbled from her mouth. ‘Come on,’ said Kiera, grabbing her bag. ‘Let’s head back. And we can stop by the newsagent’s on the way. I want to buy some wedding mags. I haven’t bought any for ages and all the fashions will have changed by now.’

  Though Kiera’s coffee and pain au raisin were barely touched, Miles quickly ate his croissant and did as he was told. Out on the flat surface of the road it was surprisingly hard to keep up with Kiera even in her insanely high heels. ‘Do you still want to call in at Herbert’s shop?’ he asked, taking long strides.

  ‘Oh yes, I think we should. If we’re going to be neighbours we should introduce ourselves. And I want to see how much of an old perv Herbert really was.’

  Miles bit his lip, wishing there was something he could do about Kiera’s lack of filter.

  The shop bell tinkled as he held open the door for Kiera and his eyes scanned the room. He couldn’t believe the difference already. It was all so bright and spacious. Behind the corner of the counter Miles could see the dog asleep in his basket, thankfully on a lead. He wasn’t as large as Miles remembered and the snores coming from that side of the room were decidedly unthreatening. Feeling foolish, he pretended nothing had happened.

  ‘Good morning,’ the woman behind the counter said in a genuinely cheerful voice. She’d been reading and the book rested on the countertop in front of her. ‘Let me know if I can help with anything.’

  Miles gave a quick smile and followed Kiera who was walking around touching things and checking prices. The woman behind the counter had resumed her reading. She was pretty and seemed placid and relaxed. Had he misjudged her? She must have been exhausted with all the work in the shop and scared for her dog. He had to admit he’d over-reacted too, embarrassed at being shocked by such a small, cute creature.

  Kiera caught his eye and looked disdainfully around the shop. From the way the woman’s gaze had frozen on Miles he knew that she’d recognised him, and as if to make matters worse, the dog woke up and stretched. Kiera watched on, appalled that the dog was there as the woman reached down to pet him. Watching her fuss over the small hairy thing made Miles feel even more silly for being scared, and further abashed about how he’d behaved.

  When she’d finished browsing, Kiera went over and offered her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Kiera. We’re neighbours actually. I live at the Old Post House with my fiancé, Miles.’ She turned to point him out even though they were the only ones in the shop. Miles gave a tight smile and nodded.

  ‘Lovely to meet you. I’m Stella and this is Frank.’

  Frank was sitting up nicely like a good, well-trained dog, waiting for another fuss. Stella must think him a complete idiot but that dog had actually frightened him when he’d snarled and snapped. Not that anyone would believe him when they saw the floppy ears and chubby body wobbling from excitement.

  Stella, to her credit, didn’t mention anything about their previous meeting, but politely smiled and said, ‘Please let me know if you’d like any help with anything.’

  ‘Oh, we’re not buying anything from here,’ said Kiera, and Miles wondered if she was this tactless with her clients.

  ‘Oh. Right.’
Stella’s eyebrows lifted a fraction.

  ‘We don’t need anything at the moment,’ said Miles quickly, trying to cover. ‘But we did want to come and introduce ourselves.’

  ‘Well, thank you. That’s really nice. I hope I’ll see more of you.’

  ‘You probably won’t,’ Kiera continued, completely oblivious to how rude she sounded. Miles inwardly cursed and desperately searched his mind for something to say but Kiera was in full swing and he didn’t want to talk over her. He’d just have to wait for a tiny gap and dive in. ‘Herbert always sold so much crap and the shops around here are awful. I do all my shopping in London.’ She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and gave Miles a half glance. ‘Although you’ll probably get an invite to the wedding.’

  ‘Wedding?’

  ‘Yes. I dare say we’ll have to invite the neighbours – to the evening at least. We’ve just decided to set the date.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Stella replied, and despite not knowing them she looked genuinely pleased at their news.

  Now was his chance. Miles stepped forwards, desperate to change the subject before Kiera insulted the town or its inhabitants even more. The trouble was, he hadn’t prepared a question and feverishly racked his brains for something interesting to say. He should have asked something personal and friendly, but all he could think to ask was, ‘Are you planning on keeping the same stuff as Herbert? I know he sold the shop with a lot of stock left in it.’

  ‘Umm, no.’ Stella paused, clearly surprised at such a direct question and Miles scrunched his hands in his pockets, frustrated with himself. ‘Not all of it. He did leave quite a lot but some of it was truly awful – no offence to Herbert. I’ll keep selling the paintings and find some new artists, I think. Some of these are really good.’