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‘What does this and that mean?’
Isla turned her palms up to the ceiling. ‘Nothing you’d find very exciting.’
‘Only…’ Paul frowned and closed the lid of his laptop. He peered at Isla over the top of his computer glasses. ‘As I said in my messages, if you’d taken the time to listen to them, you were seen walking up to Driftwood House.’
Good grief, did Paul have spies everywhere?
Isla sank into the chair that faced Paul’s desk. ‘Ben left his hat at Rose Cottage so I returned it.’
‘Couldn’t Caitlin have done that?’
‘Possibly. Probably, but I thought I would instead.’
‘Without telling me?’
‘I was returning his hat, Paul, and saying goodbye. I don’t have to tell you everything.’
Paul’s dark eyes shone glittery and hard. Then, his face softened and he leaned back in his chair. ‘Of course you don’t, sweetheart, but I worry about you and need to know that you’re all right at all times.’
Isla ran a finger inside the collar of her sweatshirt, which felt as if it was strangling her.
‘So when is our American visitor going back to the States?’ Paul asked.
‘Thursday morning. He’s leaving Heaven’s Cove tomorrow.’
‘That’s good, and not before time.’
‘You really don’t like him, do you? You took against him from the start.’
Paul scowled. ‘What’s to like about a brash American?’
‘He’s not brash, Paul. He’s confident, that’s all. And though he was a bit grumpy at first, he’s a nice man – as you’d know if you’d taken the time to speak to him properly.’
‘I spoke to him quite enough to make up my mind, thank you.’
‘You weren’t particularly welcoming.’
Paul huffed and drew his eyebrows together. ‘I’m perfectly welcoming. I haven’t made a fuss about Caitlin and that child being in our house, have I?’
‘Caitlin is my sister and that child is her stepdaughter,’ said Isla quietly. ‘It’s Caitlin’s house as much as mine.’
She was trying to stay calm but her heart was hammering. It felt wrong to be challenging Paul in this way. In any way. Caitlin had been right when she’d described his personality as forceful. He rarely shouted or made a scene but, when she thought about it, that was probably because he usually got his own way.
‘But when are they planning to go back to London?’ Paul moaned. ‘It was awkward enough having your grandmother around all the time, let alone a stroppy fifteen-year-old banging doors and playing Godawful music.’
Isla blinked, feeling the prickle of tears. How could Paul be so unkind about her grandmother? She’d do anything to have her around for longer.
‘Have they said when they’re going?’ he repeated.
Isla remembered her argument with Caitlin less than an hour earlier. ‘I don’t think they’ll be staying much longer.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’
Isla shivered, feeling very alone. Her grandmother was gone for good, Caitlin and Maisie would soon return to London and have little to do with her, and Ben was about to fly thousands of miles across the Atlantic – and they weren’t parting on the best of terms.
Everything was going to hell, but at least she had Paul. Isla studied him across the desk. He’d opened his laptop again and gone back to work.
‘I was thinking,’ she said quietly.
