Page 67 of A Letter to the Last House Before the Sea

‘A vodka and lime, please,’ said Daisy.

‘What about you, Lettie?’

‘A gin and tonic, please.’

‘One G&T and vodka and lime coming up.’

‘Who the hell is that?’ hissed Daisy, as Simon made his way through the busy pub to the bar. ‘Here’s me thinking you were moping about in Heaven’s Cove, feeling miserable. He’s not the fisherman you mentioned, is he?’

‘That’s Simon, who is not a fisherman. He’s a property entrepreneur.’

‘A what?’

Lettie shrugged. ‘I’m not exactly sure but he buys up land for development.’

‘Does he live around here?’

‘No, he’s based in London.’

‘Well, that’s handy.’

When Daisy winked, Lettie felt sick. Spending the evening on a ‘date’ with Simon with her suggestive sister in tow was going to be challenging. Especially if he did start grilling her about the Allfords.

‘Simon’s just a friend. Well, he’s not even that, really.’

‘That’s probably not what he thinks.’ Daisy leaned across the table. ‘Stop being so damn picky, Lettie. He’s good-looking and you say he lives in London so you could see him when you’re back home. Whereabouts does he live?’

‘Kensington.’

‘Fancy.’ Daisy folded her arms, looking impressed. ‘By the way, did I tell you that Elsa got top marks in the judo test she did last week?’

Lettie settled back in her chair to hear all about her young niece’s prowess at martial arts. She didn’t mind. She loved her niece and her nephew, and at least the conversation had moved on from her love life.

Daisy was still in full flow by the time Simon returned with their drinks, and he listened attentively, sipping at his beer. He caught Lettie’s eye at one point and winked before rubbing his foot along her calf. She moved her leg, feeling confused. Did he really fancy her or was this all a ploy to gather information on the Allfords? If so, he was going to be severely disappointed because it was information she didn’t have.

Fortunately, Daisy kept the conversation flowing and Lettie was miles away, thinking about her trip to Dartmoor with Corey, when Simon interrupted her thoughts.

‘Oh, good grief.’ His eyes were on the door to the pub. ‘Here comes trouble.’

Lettie twisted round in her seat to see people parting to make way for Corey himself, who scanned the pub before marching over to them.

‘I thought you might be in here,’ he said to Simon, barely registering Lettie’s presence. His cheeks were flushed against his dark stubble.

‘Not many other places to go in this place, old chap,’ said Simon smoothly, giving Corey a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘You can keep away from my grandmother!’ ordered Corey, his jaw tightening.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You accosted her again this afternoon.’

‘Accosted? That’s rather a loaded word. Quite honestly, I don’t know what you’re getting in such a state about. I simply saw your grandmother in the post office and had a quick word with her.’

‘You badgered her again about selling Cora Head, and you told her that, as she was ill, selling now would be a good idea.’

Corey shot Lettie a hostile glare and she shrank back in her seat. She’d told Simon that Florence was unwell in the hope of warding off any other approaches. But it seemed to have had the opposite effect.

‘Calm down, mate,’ said Simon levelly. ‘I’m sure your old gran could do with the money.’