She gawped. My God, if someone was moving into Clifftop House, it had to be Gabe. Which meant his stuff was in this van. She could leave it here, stuck like a cork in a bottle and let Gabe’s driver sort it out. He might be waiting a very long time, she thought with grim pleasure, but that soon evaporated. Gabe was moving in a few doors up from her for God knows how long. This was far worse than she’d imagined.

‘It is up here, isn’t it?’ the driver said anxiously, taking Sam’s shock for ignorance.

‘Yeah. It’s there, but it’s a little way along the track at the end of this lane. You can’t see the house because it’s on the edge of the cliff behind some gates. The owners should have told you to bring a smaller van. Here, hand over the keys.’

He snorted. ‘What? You must be joking.’

‘Why? Because I’m a woman?’

‘No, because you’re not qualified or insured.’

‘One: I drive a pick-up and a converted horsebox with a full kitchen in it down lanes much narrower and twistier than this pretty much every day of my life. And two: I live up here and my sister will be home soon – or she would if she could get past in her car. You’re stopping us from sitting down together for a very large gin and tonic.’ She held out her palm. ‘Keys, please.’

He folded his arms. ‘I can’t do that.’

Ignoring him, she climbed into the driver’s seat.

He stood in the doorway. ‘You … I … shouldn’t really be doing this. You’re not insured,’ he repeated.

‘And what will your boss say when they have to send someone who is qualified to get your van out? And meanwhile, no one can get from the properties above here to the village. There are elderly people in some of the cottages and a lady who’s expecting a baby in a week’s time. What if the emergency services can’t reach a house? Give me the keys, please.’

The man handed them over. ‘I must be mad.’

‘Keep an eye out for traffic from behind, please,’ said Sam.

Still grumbling, the driver went behind the truck. Sam saw him in the wing mirror and started to back up. The van was big and space was very tight, but she knew the lane like the back of her hand, and the exact micro second of when to turn to miss the white cottage with its stone porch. She reversed steadily down the hill and opened the door.

‘Hop in,’ she said. ‘I’m going to take you via the scenic route.’

His eyebrows scrunched together. ‘What? You said this was the only road.’

‘The only road to Clifftop House, yes, but not the only way.’

Shaking his head, he got into the passenger seat.