‘Oh no. I mean I appreciate what you are offering to do but it’s completely bonkers.’

‘Why? If it gives your old man peace of mind surely that’s worth it.’ Something was rocking her sensible core values and it was unsettling. ‘I mean, is everything else all right with me? Anything else you want to change?’ He splayed out his arms.

Ros took a moment to study the man in front of her closely – bushy hair, warm eyes and a disarming smile. Where had she seen him before? ‘Do I know . . .’ And then it dawned on her. ‘You! You’re the custard-pie-wielding, tutu-wearing stu—’

‘Oh crap! That was you? I regret ducking that day. And to show how sorry I am, here’s another lime and soda on me.’ He filled the glass and lined it up next to her current drink on another new coaster. ‘I’m not usually like that. It was the birthday of one of the lads in my house share and they’d already bought me the tutu and it was quite hard to get one in my size apparently. I didn’t like to let them down. That’s what I’m like. I’m helpful and dependable and my student loans are spiralling out of control so I really need the cash. And I think you really want to put your dad’s mind at rest so we could help each other out here. What do you say? Do we have a deal?’

Chapter Five

Darla was very pleased with herself. It was a genius plan introducing Ros and Cameron even if she did say so herself. Cameron was a completely lovely person who needed some cash and Ros was in need of a credible boyfriend stand-in. She was ignoring the many calls to her mobile from Ros. She’d known her for a while and had learned it was best to let her run out of steam before engaging. Right now Ros would be thinking of the many reasons why this wouldn’t work. When she stopped to think, that was when Darla would step in and point out all the things that would work and how this solved everything perfectly.

Having sorted out Ros’s problem Darla felt she was on a roll and was keen to sort out her own accommodation issues. For one thing she wasn’t keen on staying the night at Ros’s because Ros definitely needed longer to get her head around Darla’s quite frankly genius fake boyfriend suggestion. She’d been calling the agency incessantly and nothing local enough was coming up. Her mum and dad had messaged and she had fobbed them off too many times so knew she would have to call them soon.

Darla went to the marina and strolled along the many rows of yachts. Some never left their moorings. People with more money than they knew what to do with, she supposed. As she walked past one with a large open section at the back she had an idea. Darla checked the coast was clear and climbed on board. She pulled out her phone and video-called her parents while also trying to remember where she had told them she was the last time she had spoken to them.

The kitchen ceiling in her parents’ house came into view. ‘Hello, Darla, let me find your father.’ And the phone was left on the kitchen table.

Hurry up, thought Darla, glancing nervously around. She mentally went through the countries she’d told her parents she’d visited. Was it Egypt or Turkey last time? Eventually her mother returned and two familiar faces loomed close on the screen. She adored her parents and her heart squeezed with guilt that she was deceiving them, but when she saw how happy they looked, how could she tell them the truth? Reality would only hurt them.

‘Where are you?’

‘As you can see I’m on a yacht.’

‘Have you left Turkey?’

‘Yes, I’m in the sea near Greece,’ she said. Thankfully her geography knowledge was pretty good and hopefully better than her mum and dad’s.

‘Ooh how exciting,’ said her mum, peering closer. ‘Let’s have a tour.’

‘We’re about to set sail so I can’t be moving about – it’s not safe.’

‘Whose yacht is it?’ asked her dad.

Bugger. She’d not thought this through.

‘I’ve got a job in another bar.’ Her imaginary jobs hadn’t been very imaginative, but then she wasn’t qualified for a lot else. ‘It belongs to the guy who owns the bar.’

‘Where’s he? Is it just the two of you there?’ Her dad was looking concerned.

Yep, she really should have thought it through. ‘Actually, I’m working. He’s got some clients on board and I’m going to do some serving. Which is why it’s just a quick call to say I’m having a great time and I just wanted to check that you’re both okay.’

‘Hey!’ shouted someone from the pontoon.

Shit, thought Darla. ‘That’s my boss, I have to go,’ she said quickly at the screen. Blew them a kiss and closed down the call.

‘What are you doing?’ asked an angry-looking man marching up to the boat.

‘I’m looking for Terry. Is this not his boat?’ She pretended to check it over. ‘Goodness, silly me. This is far too small. Terry has a whopper. The boat, that is. Terry’s yacht is much bigger than this. I’m so sorry. My mistake.’ She held out a hand and the shocked gent helped her off the boat. ‘Thank you. You’re too kind.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said. Darla walked away. Yet another one charmed – she might have lost a lot but she still had that.

***

Ros was pacing up and down her living room carpet and it was leaving unattractive dents in the pile. Darla wasn’t answering her calls and she literally had nobody else to discuss this with. The other person she always turned to when she had a dilemma was her dad, but for obvious reasons she couldn’t talk this one through with him, and very soon, she realised she wouldn’t be able to talk anything through with him at all. The thought hit her like a brick and she sat down hard on the sofa. Perhaps he was right that after he’d gone she would be alone. Very alone. Especially now she knew of Darla’s plans to return to Oxford. Ros sucked in a breath. That was a worry for another day; she couldn’t dwell on that right now. She needed to think through Darla’s suggestion that she make a deal with Cameron.

She shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was even considering the madcap idea for a nanosecond. It was all things ludicrous and then some. She’d already told Cameron that it definitely wasn’t going to happen. He’d been completely reasonable about it and said she could get in touch through Darla if she changed her mind and wanted to go ahead with the simple business transaction. That’s what he’d called it. It was none of those things. Running a bath was simple; ordering a coffee was simple (well, unless it was from the trendy new café on the waterfront; then you had to pick your roast, cup size, milk alternative et cetera but generally coffee was a much simpler thing than this.) And business – really? Business was a contracted transaction for money not a . . . Hmm, she wondered. Perhaps Cameron had got that part right.

What exactly was it that she would need him to do? He would have to meet her father at some point but perhaps that could be delayed and kept to a minimum of interactions. But then, how would she explain that away to her dad? Perhaps she could invent a job for Cameron where he was away a lot, that would make his absence more acceptable and hopefully avoid any awkward questioning. She could also say that they had been seeing each other for a while but he’d been away, which would make it seem less out of the blue. A sudden serious boyfriend would certainly raise alarm bells.

A business contract should also be documented, to ensure there was clarity on the deal – and that could only be a good thing. There would be an awful lot to map out and agree so that they both knew exactly what could and couldn’t be said to avoid her dad discovering the truth. She came over in a cold sweat at the thought of it. No, she definitely couldn’t do this. It was lying to her dad. They never ever lied to each other. They knew they could trust each other implicitly. She couldn’t do it.

But then what was the alternative? Let him go to his grave worrying about her? That wasn’t a great outcome either. She could spend whatever time he had left trying to convince him that she would be fine but, if she was being truthful, even she wasn’t sure that she would be. Life without the one constant person in it already felt like a barren land she didn’t want to explore. On that front she had no choice, but when it came to her father’s peace of mind, Darla had presented her with another option. However ridiculous it was, the least she could do was to properly review the suggestion.

She was running out of steam and she checked her phone. A message from Darla popped up.

‘At last,’ said Ros, relieved, as she opened the message.

The farting French bulldog has come up trumps (no pun intended) lol. So I’m staying there for the next three days. Please think seriously about my suggestion – you know it makes sense. Don’t be mad – it’s a waste of energy. Just call Cameron. That’s all you have to do. Love D x

She would have to figure this one out for herself but first she needed to vacuum her foot marks out of the carpet.

Whenever Ros had a dilemma or needed to think she went to Sunset Shore. A thin strip of beach between where the cruise ships docked and the Isle of Wight ferry terminal which, to Ros’s knowledge, didn’t have a name. There was a bench and sometimes in summer an ice cream van but what Ros went for was the peace and quiet and to watch the sunset. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from her apartment building although she’d been coming since before she moved there. It had been a regular haunt of her confused teenage years.

Somehow the thirty minutes or so that it took the sun to sink was enough to help calm Ros’s mind. She loved the vibrant colours that nature made but she liked the softer ones too. The sunset could be anything from a rich red to a soft pink depending on the time of year and weather conditions.

Occasionally her sunset viewing was interrupted by the ferry but it didn’t really spoil the view. She’d bought her flat for a number of reasons but one of those had been that from the balcony she could catch a partial view of the sunset. And whilst she did like to sit out there and saviour the display she actually still preferred the short walk to Sunset Shore.

***

Tonight it was a stretch even for her happy place to sort through all the whirling thoughts; the pros, numerous cons and the many, many associated risks of a fake relationship. She watched the last of the sun disappear, leaving the merest glow behind and with a sigh she headed home.

Unsurprisingly Ros didn’t sleep well that night. A hot shower and coffee did little to buck her up so she wasn’t in the mood for any of the frequent interruptions she had to contend with at work. The offices were light, bright and open plan, which did cause Ros some issues especially in the late afternoon when other staff seemed to slack off and use the time for chatting to others at their desks, which was off-putting when she was trying to work. But the senior team pretty much left her to her own devices, which she liked. They’d brought her in as an expert and it was refreshing that they let her manage the risk and compliance agenda for the company. It was a lot of responsibility and took up all her time and some on top of that, but then Ros was possibly more thorough than most.

Ros had a desk in the corner of the office adjacent to the photocopiers. Previously she had been in the middle of the main office but when she’d complained about the constant chattering of her co-workers who seemed to congregate there, they’d given her a space of her own, and she liked it that way. She wasn’t big on socialising. She wasn’t rude but these were colleagues not friends, a common misconception of many.

‘Hi, Ros, have you got a minute? Great,’ said Alastair, pulling up a chair without waiting for a response. ‘How are things with you?’ His tone was friendly and she was immediately suspicious. She’d still not forgiven him for the awayday shenanigans.

‘Fine. Was there something you wanted?’ she asked.

‘I got the document you sent round and asked me to sign.’

‘Which I’m still waiting for you to do,’ she pointed out.

‘Yeah, about that. Could you give me an overview of the contents now to save me going through all of those pages as I’m a bit busy?’

‘I’m busy too, and no, I’m sorry, I can’t do that.’ Ros turned her attention back to her emails but was well aware that Alastair hadn’t gone away. He proceeded to make loud sucking noises with his lips until she spun in his direction, making him jolt back. ‘Is there a problem?’ she asked.

‘I want to sign it but I kind of don’t without knowing what it’s about exactly.’