‘I just… I’m not sure…’ I’m struggling to get my head around all of this. A young woman, dying so abruptly… A bestselling author leaving behind an unfinished sequel… Me – me! – being the one to complete her work…

‘Read the book,’ Sara urges, and I sense she wants to wrap up our meeting. ‘And keep in mind, Bridget, this is a great opportunity. Give me a call as soon as you’ve reached the end so we can discuss the finer details. I’m around all day tomorrow.’

She seems very confident that I’m going to go along with this hare-brained scheme.

Her conviction is founded, because I call her back first thing.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It’s a beautiful sunny day in early June when I step off the bus in Padstow, Cornwall. The tide is out and the view stretches right over the Camel Estuary as I climb the hill, revealing a series of long, smooth sandbanks punctuating the clear, bluey-green water. The smell of fish and chips wafts through the air, making my tummy rumble. My appetite will have to wait. It’s already three thirty in the afternoon and Nicole’s husband, Charlie Laurence, is expecting me.

When Sara explained that Charlie wanted to oversee the writing of his wife’s book, I was apprehensive. The job was already going to be challenging enough – would he make it even more difficult?

I come to a stop outside a modest, terraced, redbrick house. A narrow, slate-topped veranda stretches across the front, sheltering a charcoal-grey door and a bay window. Apart from a lavender hedge bordering the wall adjacent to the street, the tiny paved area is devoid of plants.

Movement catches my eye at the window, so I quickly walk up the path and knock on the door. There’s not even time to check my reflection in the glass before it opens to reveal who I’m assuming is Charlie.

He looks to be in his early thirties, and is around six foot tall and slim, with green eyes and shaggy dark-blond hair held back from his forehead with a mustard-yellow bandana. He’s wearing a faded orange T-shirt and grey shorts, and his face and limbs are sun-kissed the colour of honey, all the way down to his bare feet.

Wow.

‘Charlie?’ I check hopefully.

‘Hello,’ he replies with a small, reserved smile, holding back the door. ‘Come in.’

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

‘Tea?’ he offers.

‘Thank you, that’d be great.’ I jolt as the door closes with a clunk. I’m nervous.