The Boy is Back in Town Page 4

  Rosa put down her knitting and peered at the head and shoulders photos of older men displayed on the screen. Her face lit up with a stunned grin. ‘That. Is totally perfect. I hadn’t thought about renting a wrinkly. We can tell Aunt Alice that we’ve organised a male escort for the evening. She’ll be thrilled! And at seventy-nine a man of sixty-plus has to count as a toy boy. Valentine or no Valentine.’

  Mari grinned back and winked. ‘I live to serve. A toy boy! I like the sound of that. Although the idea of a male escort might come as a bit of a shock to the more snooty members of the Swanhaven Yacht Club.’

  ‘They’ll survive,’ Rosa sniffed. ‘Besides, we only have the Valentine’s Day party once a year and Aunt Alice does manage the clubhouse. It’s only right and proper that she sets a fine example to the younger generation with a dapper date. Especially when my big sister has flown all the way back to Dorset especially for the big day. This calls for posh frocks. Shoes. Bags. Plastic baubles. The full works.’

  She rubbed her hands together in delight, then looked hard at Mari over the top of her spectacles. ‘Unless of course you have a love slave hidden in the attic of your tiny flat, but there hasn’t been much evidence of that lately. Has there?’

  ‘Guilty as charged,’ Mari replied as she shut down her laptop, ‘but I have been a tad busy. As well you know.’

  There was a snort before her sister answered. ‘Work, work. Travel, travel. What a pitiful excuse. Anyone would think that you actually preferred living in California to coming home to Swanhaven now and again.’

  Mari stared back at her open-mouthed, then tutted several times before answering her baby sister. ‘Perish the thought. Why do you think I booked time out for the Valentine party this weekend?’ She smiled warmly before going on but her mouth closed slightly as she murmured in a lower voice, ‘I do feel guilty about leaving you here on your own to clear Mum’s things after the funeral. Thank you again for helping me out this last year. It hasn’t been easy.’

  Rosa reached across and squeezed Mari’s hand before unfolding herself from her old squishy sofa and walking the few steps across to the picture window of her terraced cottage and the view down the cobbled lane towards Swanhaven harbour.

  ‘Aunt Alice has been making an effort to persuade me to spend more time with her at the club but things haven’t been the same, have they?’

  Mari shuffled off the sofa and came to stare out of the window, her arm wrapped around her sister’s shoulders. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not the same at all.’ And they stood in silence, both gazing down towards the sea and the cliff path.

  Directly across the lane was the parallel row of white-painted two-storey terraced houses which stretched down from the church and small primary school to the harbour and the yacht club, which served as the village meeting place. This was the temporary house which she had moved into with Rosa and their mother when they had to sell the home they adored. And here they still were, stuck.

  ‘Do you know, it’s almost ten years since we moved here? I still feel that I let her down, you know. About the house.’

  Rosa turned and shook her head. ‘That’s ridiculous. Don’t do that to yourself. She was so proud of your success and how hard you were working to make it happen. I have no doubt about that whatsoever and I was here with her every day. You did the right thing.’

  ‘But I promised her, Rosa. I promised her that I would do whatever it took to get the house back for us. And she never lived to see that happen. And now our old house is finally up for sale when she’s not here to enjoy it.’

  ‘I know. But we tried. We really tried.’ Pain flashed across Rosa’s lovely face for a split second before she beamed across at Mari. ‘Of course there is one small news item that I have been keeping from you all day and the suspense is killing me. I can’t hold it in a minute longer.’

  There was a groan and Mari’s shoulders dropped petulantly. ‘Please, not another walk around the harbour looking for dogs without coats so you can sell your wares,’ she whimpered. ‘It’s freezing out there! Jet lag. That’s it. I still have jet lag.’

  ‘Protest all you like, but I am determined to show off my talented computer guru of a sister to all and sundry.’ Rosa moved closer to Mari. ‘As far as this town goes, you are officially one of the local celebrities who have actually made good in the outside world.’

  ‘Me? A celebrity?’ Mari clutched the back of the nearest chair and pretended to faint at the idea. ‘I mend company servers and design tailor-made software systems, and design websites in my spare time,’ she finally managed to squeak. ‘That does not make me a celebrity. Believe me, the company head office is in California and the celebrity culture is alive and well.’

  ‘What can I say? Standards here have slipped. But not for much longer. Because there is something I have to tell you.’ A cunning smirk lifted one side of Rosa’s mouth and she waggled her eyebrows a couple of times before taking a breath and speaking so fast that her words all ran together. ‘Ethan Chandler is back in town and I really wanted you to meet him on your own at the harbour but you haven’t and he is probably going to be at the club tonight so you should know about it before you get there.’

  She sucked in a deep breath, chest heaving. ‘There. I’m glad I finally got that out. It’s been a nightmare keeping Ethan a secret for these past few days but I was so sure that you would see him around and it would all be fine. And why are you shaking your head like that?’

  Mari took hold of her sister’s shoulders and forced her to make eye contact.

  ‘I saw Ethan this afternoon on the way back from my walk. He was coming into harbour in a boat smaller than your bath tub and he frightened the living daylights out of me. There. Satisfied?’

  She gave Rosa’s shoulders a gentle shake before dropping her hands back onto the chair. ‘What were you thinking? You should have told me.’

  There was a hiss as Rosa bared her teeth. ‘I know, but you were always so intense when he was around. And when Kit died … you were so hard on him, Mari. And now, with all of this media interest … Stay there; I kept the article for you.’

  Rosa dived back into the living room and rooted around in a basket overflowing with yarn, knitting paraphernalia, old newspapers and unopened mail until she finally found the magazine she was looking for.

  She flicked through the pages, her eyebrows tight with concentration, and then she grinned with delight and held up the page with a thumb and forefinger at each corner and waved it from side to side in front of Mari’s face.

  Splashed across two pages of the colour supplement of a national newspaper was a stunning photograph taken of a racing yacht in full sail on a choppy sea under hot blue skies. And standing at the helm was a tall imposing man, broad-shouldered, tanned, with handsome features and body language that screamed of total confidence in what he was doing. Ethan was wearing an impossibly clean white T-shirt with a designer logo on the breast, navy shorts and baseball cap. No shoes.

  His tanned sinewy legs were spread for stability, his bright blue eyes focused on the sea in front of him, alert and intelligent, and his arms stretched out on the wheel. Mari scanned his left hand for a wedding ring without even realising what she was doing, but it was covered up with an article praising him for his work on a charity for disadvantaged teenagers.

  ‘Isn’t he dreamy?’ Rosa was almost sighing with delight and swaying from side to side.

  Mari breathed out slowly, blinked several times to break out of his hypnotic gaze, then peered at the page and almost snatched it from Rosa’s hands. ‘And you forgot arrogant, bossy and the bane of my life. As far as Ethan Chandler was concerned I was the nearest geeky girl with her head in a book who he could tease and torment whenever he pleased. And then ignore the rest of the time. Oh, yes, I certainly made a big impression on Ethan.’

  Then she took a closer look at the date on the newspaper. ‘Wait a minute. Ethan never lived here. He only came for the summer holidays with his parents. That hardly makes him a l
ocal.’

  Rosa took the magazine back with a cough and smoothed out the page. ‘His mother came from around here, which makes it close enough. Besides, his parents are building a retirement bungalow in the next bay and Ethan is certain to visit them now and again. That makes him a local as far as we are concerned. And the really good news is that he’s back in town for a while working on his parents’ house.’

  Rosa paused and tapped one finger against her chin. ‘The way I see it, it would be a very friendly gesture if someone would invite him to the Valentine’s Day party at the yacht club. Just to welcome him back to Swanhaven, you understand. I would do it myself but, seeing as you had such a special relationship … well, it does point one way. And now where are you going?’

  Mari wound one of Rosa’s hand knitted scarves around her neck a couple of times before replying. ‘Down to the harbour to clear my head. I’ve started to hallucinate. For a moment I thought I heard you suggest that I ask Ethan Chandler to the Valentine party. Which is obviously ridiculous. And no. We did not have a special relationship. Okay? I don’t want to go there.’

  Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her cardigan and Rosa came over and fastened them for her. ‘That was a long time ago, Mari.’

  Mari swallowed down a denial but couldn’t. ‘I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that Ethan Chandler always has to win. No matter what the risks are or who gets in his way.’

  Rosa smirked in reply, then tipped two fingers to her forehead. ‘He always did make you frazzle. There are plenty of girls around here who think men like that are God’s special gift to women on earth because we deserve treats like Ethan now and then.’

  ‘Ethan does not make me frazzle,’ Mari chortled. ‘I am a goddess, and as a goddess my special power is that I am immune to handsome men. My problems are far more to do with the sixty-five e-mails which have come in since three this afternoon, and all of them are desperately urgent.’

  She glanced back at the magazine and gave Rosa a faint smile and a gentle tap on the nose to wipe away the sadness in the room. ‘So let’s forget about Ethan and start on the really important business of planning party outfits and organising a date for Aunt Alice, shall we?’

  Rosa winced and flicked a glance up at Mari. ‘Drat. Um … there is one more tiny thing. I sort of promised Ethan that I would help him decorate his parents’ house if he agreed to open the summer Sailing Regatta. And he said yes, thank you. More hot chocolate?’

  Mari grabbed Rosa by the waist as she stood to go back to the jug warming on the hearth of her open fire. ‘Oh, no, you don’t. Sit. Do what your older sister tells you.’

  Rosa faltered, but sat back down and looked at Mari sheepishly over the rim of her mug before shrugging a little as she replied. ‘It seemed like such a good idea at the time. He was in town ordering building materials and hanging out at the yacht club just after he arrived. We got talking and it was pretty obvious that Ethan might be brilliant at carpentry and the like but he had no clue whatsoever about colour charts or layouts. So I sort of took pity of him and traded a week’s work for two days of his time in July. His folks will be here over the summer and he’s happy to have his photo taken for the TV cameras and the whole media circus. The publicity would be amazing. Swanhaven needs celebrities like Ethan more than ever. And the sailing club needs a boost.’

  Mari sat back on the arm of the sofa, stunned. ‘Rosa the interior designer? Well, this day is turning out to be full of surprises. I think I need to sit down.’

  The doorbell sounded. ‘Who can that be at this time of night in this weather?’

  Mari stood to clear away the cups as Rosa chatted to someone at the door, then turned at the sound of footsteps.

  ‘I can always make myself scarce if it’s a customer or one of your new boyfriends,’ she said, and turned to find herself staring into the chest of Ethan Chandler, who was grinning down at her.

  Mari crossed her arms and glared at Ethan, stone-faced.

  The sheer bulk of him seemed to fill all of the space in the cosy living room, and she had to fight the urge to step back into a corner so that she had room to breathe.

  He was overwhelming in every way possible.

  This was not helped by the fact that Rosa was peeking out at her from behind Ethan’s shoulder and nodding with her head towards Ethan, flapping her face with her hand and fluttering her eyelids. Oh. Yes. Apparently she had to be polite. She could do polite.

  ‘Hello, Ethan. Nice to see you again so soon. Is there anything that we can help you with?’

  He bowed slightly. ‘First, I just wanted to make sure that you got home safely. And secondly, the snow is still falling and I’m on my way to the clubhouse. Thirdly, I’m here to warn you that you may be accosted by the local TV station on your way out. So, if my favourite two ladies require an escort, personal security or a lift home, I am at your service.’

  He raised his head and glanced around the room, inhaling appreciatively. ‘And what is that fantastic smell? Blueberry muffins? Or cinnamon?’

  Rosa groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘Two. That’s all I can spare. Blueberry and cinnamon. And I do have to get to the club early so a lift would be great.’

  Ethan responded by lifting the back of Rosa’s hand to his lips. ‘I would be delighted to have your company.’

  ‘Oh, you are terrible.’ Rosa grinned, then looked from Ethan back to Mari, then back to Ethan again, her eyes wide. ‘Dress. Coat. I’ll be five minutes. Maybe ten.’ With a quick nod, she turned around and fled upstairs.

  There was an uncomfortable silence in the room for a few seconds, broken only by the crackling of the logs in the open fire and the ticking of the old mantle clock while Mari busied herself filling a bowl with hot water and started washing the cups, aware that Ethan had strolled up to watch what she was doing, his back against the wall.

  ‘We have to find a way through this situation somehow, Mari. And I can’t do it alone.

  My parents are going to be regular visitors to Swanhaven, the press are in town and I will probably visit them when they are here. Can we work together to put the past behind us? Or at least agree to a truce. Any ideas would be welcome at this point.’

  ‘A truce?’ Mari laughed with a shake of the head, then sighed. ‘That is quite a concept. But I do have a few questions,’ she said quietly over one shoulder.

  ‘Anything. Just shout.’

  Mari took a breath and turned to face Ethan, who was looking at her with such total focus that she felt like the most important person in his world at that moment, and wanted to squirm at the same time. ‘Why has the local TV station come all this way to talk to my family and neighbours, Ethan?’ she asked. ‘And why are your parents flying all the way here in winter when they could stay in the sunshine in Florida? Why are you really here? I don’t want my sister or this community to be dragged into some part of the Ethan Chandler Reality TV show or some major marketing campaign that we don’t know about. I care too much to see it ridiculed like that. And please tell me the truth.’

  Ethan’s arms unfolded and he pushed one hand deep into his trouser pocket. ‘Okay, I asked for that. No TV show or marketing campaign, but you are right about one thing. I’ve just heard that TV cameras and journalists are heading this way and are about to descend on Swanhaven. And they are all looking for exclusive interviews and feature articles.’ He held up one hand. ‘I did not invite them. You can blame the PR company we use for that.’

  ‘PR company? When does a yachtsman need a PR company?’

  ‘I frequently do,’ he stated, and then his smile faded. ‘But this isn’t about me. It’s about the sailing charity I set up just over a year ago after I got back from the Green Globe round-the-world single-handed yacht race.’

  Ethan paused and licked his lips. ‘I’ll give you the short version. There were three captains leading the race for months. It was tight all the way. By the time we reached the Southern Ocean at the bottom of the world I was in the lead by half a day but the
seas were the worst we had ever seen. Every second was a fight to stay upright.’