Page 84 of Pull Me Under

‘I’m not—’ I stop. I am shocked. ‘She’s just … young.’

‘She’s thirty-two. And yes, there’s a gap, but it’s not as dramatic as your face is making it look.’

‘My face wasn’t doing anything.’

‘Your face was doing a lot.’

Cassie reaches the boathouse, peers inside, calls out words I can’t quite catch, and Cal emerges, his whole face transformed by a smile I wouldn’t have thought him capable of. He takes the cool bag, leans close to her ear and whispers words that make her laugh, and presses a kiss to her forehead with a tenderness that makes my insides twist like a pretzel.

‘Melissa – Cal’s first wife – was ill for a long time,’ Jude says quietly. ‘Cassie was her palliative nurse. Moved down from Bristol.’

I watch Cal’s hand rest on Cassie’s belly. ‘And they fell in love.’

‘According to Cassie, Melissa practically orchestrated the whole thing. Kept telling Cal he’d need someone when she was gone. Kept telling Cassie she’d never find a better man.’ He shrugs. ‘Sounds mad. But if you’d seen them – Melissa and Cal – you’d understand. She loved him enough to want him happy. Even after.’

His voice is weighted.

‘That’s actually beautiful,’ I say. ‘In a heartbreaking sort of way.’

‘Yeah.’ He’s quiet. ‘Melissa was good like that. Saw the best in everyone. Even when they couldn’t see it themselves.’

Before I can ask more, Cassie spots us and waves, already making her way over with that determined waddle.

‘Jude Harding! Is that you actually talking to another human being? On a Sunday? Should I check for signs of the apocalypse?’

‘Hilarious,’ Jude mutters, but he’s smiling.

Cassie reaches us, slightly breathless, one hand on her lower back. Up close, I instantly notice her warm brown eyes, and a scattering of freckles. She’s got one of those open faces that makes you want to tell her things.

‘You must be Brynn.’ She sticks out her hand. ‘I’ve heard all about you.’

‘That’s ominous.’

‘Only good things. Well. Interesting things. Which in Sea Salt Bay is basically the same.’ She grins. ‘The mysterious Trelawney girl, come back to reclaim her birthright. It’s very Gothic. Very Daphne du Maurier. I’m half expecting you to discover a mad woman in someone’s attic.’

‘Cassie,’ Jude warns.

‘What? I’m being welcoming. This is my welcoming face.’

‘Your welcoming face is terrifying.’

‘Only to people with secrets to hide.’ She winks at me, and her simple friendly wink makes me snort a laugh.

This woman doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know my family’s history or doesn’t care. She’s looking at me like I’m a person. Not a Trelawney. Not a threat.

Just Brynn.

‘I like you,’ I hear myself say.

Cassie beams. ‘Everyone does. It’s a curse.’ She turns to Jude. ‘Cal needs you, by the way. He muttered about the inspection log not matching the certification dates, but you know what I’m like, Jude’—she flashes him a bright smile, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ears—‘I switch off.’

Jude sighs. ‘Of course it doesn’t.’

‘Go on. I’ll keep Brynn company.’

‘I wasn’t planning to flee.’

‘Good. Because I’ve been dying for someone new to talk to. If I have to hear one more conversation about fishing quotas or inspection paperwork, I’m going to scream.’ She pats her belly. ‘The baby’s heard them all twice already. Poor thing’s going to come out speaking fluent maritime.’