Day One

But the next morning I woke to a rap on the door that was so early Declan was still sleeping on the other side of our pillow hillock.

Another rap. “Isla. It’s me, Mum. Hospital called. The specialist arrived extra early for the consultation. Apparently, her golf game got canceled. She’s waiting for us. I’ll bring the car to the front.”

“Just a sec.” I only had time to brush my teeth, splash water on my face, and change in the bathroom. Declan did the same. We met Mum in the front.

Declan bent down to her open window, his hand on the top of the car. “Okay if I come too?”

“Of course.” Mum waved to a couple of friends walking the beach and pointed at Declan climbing in the back. “Isla’s boyfriend,” she called airily.

“You’re my boyfriend,” I sang to Declan, so tired I felt a little silly.

“I’m your boyfriend,” he echoed.

There was something I liked about this guy. I hoped that helped, because we were off to the hospital to see my dad without getting any of our story straight.

*

Snow and another man were already there with Dad. The other man scowled at me. The face like a Picasso painting, the cauliflower ears, the crooked nose… Sarge .

I froze. I hadn’t recognized him because he dressed better, less like a rugby boofhead and more like an aspiring groovy dad.

“Boys,” Mum said. “This is Declan, Isla’s boyfriend, who’s flown all the way from London.”

Declan’s hand landed on my shoulder. I jerked. Could we pull this off?

Snow welcomed Declan like he was a stand-in for the head of the family and introduced Dad and Sarge as “the old geezers.” Snow regarded the older men fondly, like they were surrogate fathers.

There followed a lot of back slapping and hand shaking between Declan and the two men, and a gentle handshake with Dad, who waved away questions about how he was feeling.

Declan must have sensed that Dad didn’t want to talk about himself, because he turned to Snow. “I’ve already heard you’re an incredible surfer. We’d love to take lessons from you.”

Ugh. I get horribly seasick. Also, is this how it’s going to go? He hasn’t cleared this with me.

“Yeah, nah, yeah, all good,” Snow said. “I’ve had a seven a.m. open up, eh? And I want to take you fishing sometime.”

“Ah, that is grand, so.” Declan used “so” like we said “eh.” His accent was suddenly very Oirish.

“Snow, we’d also love a wine tour if poss?” I asked. This was the perfect time to ask as Snow was clearly being magnanimous in front of Mum, Dad, and Sarge. I was also trying to show Declan that I could make decisions without consulting him.

Snow thrust up his hands as if they were tied.

“No can do, sorry, bloody health and safety regs.” Ha, good try, the old health and safety excuse.

I wasn’t going to accept that at face value.

I intended to find out what regulations he meant and either try to show he was mistaken or suggest a work-around.

But it would sound petty to question him now. I’d leave it for later.

This triggered grumbles from everyone about the tyranny of health and safety. Sarge’s voice was the loudest.

“Talking of safety, you look like a big rugby man.” Declan focused on Sarge, who gave a stately head tilt. “What’s the story about these new safety rules in rugby? What do you reckon?”

Declan echoed Sarge’s hard-man stance, arms wrapped around himself, knees bent, legs apart. Though Declan was the taller of the two men, he made himself smaller, subservient. Ew.

Sarge huffed and puffed, but with a cackle, as though he was enjoying winding himself up.

“Bloody well ruining the game,” he stormed.

“I might be old-school, but you can’t keep everyone safe all the time.

Accidents happen. Have to accept it.” He paused and rearranged his angry expression. “As part of the game, I mean.”

Declan nodded. “Ah, to be sure, to be sure.”

Good work, Declan, well done. Sarge was old-school, and this might be a hint this carried over to his policing.

Declan smiled at Dad. “I told all my family ōhope Beach is stunning. It’s like I’ve arrived in paradise.”

I exhaled. Again, he’d said the perfect thing .

“Why would you want to be anywhere else?” Dad’s pale face flushed happily. Snow, Sarge, and Mum agreed.

“You are in for a treat. Did you know ōhope is one of the first places in the world to see the light?” Dad asked.

Declan looked confused. Mum, Snow, and Sarge smiled at one another proudly.

“That’s got you thinking, all right,” Dad said. “The first place Isla needs to take you? Up the top of the cliff at five forty-eight a.m. to see the sunrise. Because ōhope is one of the most easternmost edges of the globe.”

“That’s incredible.” Declan looked amazed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Speaking of the cliff track,” Snow squeezed Dad’s hand, “the two blokes from the Department of Conservation say hi, and they miss seeing you walking up there every morning. They were working away at the cliff steps again. Man, that job never finishes.”

“Oh, mate. I love hearing that.” Dad folded his hands over his chest contentedly. “Those guys up there every day, and they’ll always be up there. That does my old heart better than all those blasted pills in that tackle box.”

Another reason I couldn’t live in a small town.

Dad loved the certainty of knowing those DOC guys were doing this Sisyphean task every day.

That sounded like a terrible existence to me, to have your day clearly laid out, the same as yesterday, rather than being forced to think on the fly, having to respond to a plot twist.

“The DOC guys were pretty concerned about this high alert,” Snow said. “You know, Motu erupting.”

Hmm. That could be a cover story if I needed to pretend I was writing a piece. I was already pretending with Bevan, but this was a better story than looking into the gangs. Safer, less controversial.

That made Dad even more cheerful. “What a load of rubbish. That’ll be the day.”

“I’ll say,” Sarge spluttered. He moved closer to Declan. “Funny, I never heard Isla’s parents mention a man. How long have you been courting?”

“Four months,” I blurted.

“Seven months,” Declan said at the same time.

I rushed to cover myself. “It feels like four months, like we’ve just met.”

“It’s like we’ve known each other forever,” Declan said, again at the same time.

Sarge trained his eyes on both of us. It was pointed enough to be unnerving. I worried he was suspicious. I’d never trusted him, but Mum and Dad did, and if he wanted to, he could convince my parents that we were acting, which would raise the natural question: Why?

“Well, anyway, Declan, you’re a good man,” Sarge said. “Dropping everything for Isla’s family.”

Declan pulled me in with one arm. I lost my balance and dipped in front of him. He caught me by the waist to steady me.

“I’d do anything for Isla,” he said simply. He angled his face to mine. “You.”

“You, you, you.” I gazed up at him intensely, hoping I looked in love rather than constipated. This was not going well. I looked out the corner of my eye for Dad’s reaction. But he and Mum were making aww faces at each other. What a relief.

“What is it that you do, Declan, that you can leave London so quickly?” Sarge asked. He was asking a lot of questions in a town that didn’t.

“Landscape gardener,” Declan replied.

What? No, no, no. Kiwis were obsessed with gardening.

“He’s more Cotswold roses,” I explained. Was that a thing?

What a shit show. The cardiac specialist strode in. Phew.

*

“Let’s go over our dating history,” Declan said, back in the bedroom. His demeanor was pleasant, but he was clearly frustrated by the scene at the hospital. He was unpacking before breakfast, his folding and hanging boutique standard.

“You’re shaming me to tidy my side,” I said, draping my shirts properly on their hangers.

“I’ve thought about this. We met seven months ago”—I gave an I’m completely bonkers face, and he laughed—“when my friend, the Home and Garden editor, interviewed you about the new British porch appeal. Glossy pastel doors and moody Kiwi flaxes in midnight-blue pots, apparently.”

He grinned at me. “Grand. You brought Teddy to our first date at Arbor, and the deal was sealed. You join me on mini breaks in the Cotswolds when I work up there. We spend loads of time with Shay and Bato in London and visiting my sisters and their kids in Devon. Brief meetings with my brothers—believe me, it always has to be brief with them; they’re complete louts.

But you’ve never met my parents, because they’re embassy people based in Africa. ”

My head jerked back. “That’s incredibly specific. How much of that is true?”

He shrugged and bent down to take electronics out of his case—satellite phone, laptop, battery pack, two mystery devices.

“If we don’t know something about each other, it’s better that we say so.

We’ve only known each other for seven months.

” He stood up, laptop in hand. “What are you comfortable with? I had a discussion with one of my colleagues before I came, so here goes. I’m okay with kissing, hugging, arms around each other, holding hands, you touching me.

I know this ‘love languages’ concept is big, so it’s quite helpful to drop that in.

My sisters say mine are ‘physical affection’ and ‘words of affirmation.’ My brothers are always rolling their eyes at me, but I like talking about feelings and emotions, because I’m away so much there can be misunderstandings. ”

Was any of that true? He did seem at ease discussing this. In contrast, my body and brain were seizing up with embarrassment.

But I had to put my discomfort aside and treat this as part of the job.

I pressed a curled hand to my lips, taking a moment to process his words and to decide what I was okay with.

“I’m fine with kissing, hugging, and touching nonprivate parts of my body without you having to ask for permission each time,” I said.

“I suppose I’m the opposite of you. I’ve been told by my flatmate Shay that my love language is ‘acts of service.’” I took a deep breath.

I had to be honest. “I get twitchy and nervous talking about emotions, and I’m not all that affectionate. ”

Declan nodded and cleared his throat. “It’s good we’re on this subject.

In a case this month, evidence was thrown out of court because an agent was having sex with a civilian who was embedded with them.

We’ve had an official letter. We are only to touch for show to keep our cover.

All acts of affection in fake dating must be in public only. ”

He looked me steadily in the eye. I watched for his expression, but his face was stripped of any emotion.

Textbook delivery. I couldn’t say the same for me.

I felt my face run the gamut from hot embarrassment to looking blank.

His eyes flickered, maybe dazed at my pivots.

“I’m not suggesting either of us were thinking sex was a possibility.

But to be clear, we cannot have sex or touch each other at all in private. ”

“Totally clear.” I shrugged like it was never going to happen anyway. Nope, should have done the blank face again.

“I think we’ve covered it,” he said, slipping his rolled-up boxer briefs into a drawer.

I averted my eyes… to the bathroom. Gah. We had to share a bathroom too. For two weeks. Spending every second with a man you didn’t know.

Had. Not. Thought. This. Through.

He slid his bag onto the top shelf and closed the wardrobe.

“Let’s talk about strategy. We’ve got surf lessons with Snow every morning. After, we’ll hang out on the beach, watching him. We must get inside his mind, understand his motivation.”

My pulse kicked up. “This was what I was worried about. Cops work to make arrests. Journalists investigate the opposite way. I need copious documentation. We need to search the council and newspaper files on the winery. I need on-the-record interviews so I’m ready to write the article and file it before anyone else gets the story.

Besides, you have seen me?” I held out my white arms as proof.

“No known melanin found in my skin. I have to wear SPF 100 to cross the road!”

“Scrambled eggs and bacon ready,” Mum called. She’d knock if we didn’t hurry.

“I already texted Bevan’s parents that we’re arriving in an hour,” I said, desperate to get this settled. “They sold the winery to Snow and might give us some insight into his operation. Also, because they live next door, they might have seen something suspicious go down. We have to turn up.”

He said nothing to all this. “I don’t want you asking Snow questions about the winery unless he brings it up.” His tone was firm, his expression determined. “It’s too obvious.”

“Oh my God, this is going to take forever.”

He smiled calmly. How the hell were we going to sort this out?