I don’t know what Marc’s like with money. He has a Ford Ranger Raptor because he spends most of his time bumping over unmade roads and fields. It’s a beautiful car but it’s covered in mud most of the time. He has a couple of nice suits, but he doesn’t have the fancy sports cars and watches that Leon has, and Izzy once told me he rents a small apartment on the edge of town, so he doesn’t own his own home. I doubt he’s rolling in money, and I wouldn’t want him to think, like Daniel, that he has to try to impress me.
I like having money; I like owning a nice car, living in a comfortable, quiet home, buying nice clothes, but it’s not the be-all and end-all for me. I know it’s easy to say that when you have it, and like the other members of my family I make regular donations to charities because I often feel guilty that I’m wealthy, but I’m not the type of girl who has to be bought diamonds to be impressed. Daniel bought me diamond earrings for my birthday, and it clearly meant nothing. I’d rather have paste diamonds from a guy who loves me.
To my surprise, Marc doesn’t head into Hastings, but instead turns east, through the tiny town of Haumoana, and continues along the coast. Wherever we’re going, it’s not in a city.
The road bends around to the right, but he slows, indicates left, even though there aren’t any other cars, and turns off the main road and onto a narrow lane heading toward the sea. There’s only one building at the end of the lane. It’s a lighthouse.
I turn to stare at Marc. “We’re staying there?”
He laughs. “It’s a lot more isolated than I expected.” He gives me a rueful look. “If it’s too bleak, I’m happy to see if I can find us somewhere in Hastings.”
“Marc, it’s amazing. Oh my God.” We’re surrounded on both sides by the sea, which breaks on the limestone rocks to spray the road.
At the end, in front of the lighthouse, is a car. As we pull up, a woman in her fifties with gray hair in a bob comes through the front door of the lighthouse and smiles.
We get out, and she comes over and says, “Marc?”
“Yes, you must be Fiona.” He shakes her hand. “This is Poppy.”
“Hello.” I shake her hand, my face flushing as I realize she must be assuming we’re a couple. Well, I suppose we are, for this week. Maybe if I think like that, it’ll make this easier.
“Please, come in,” she says, leading the way into the lighthouse. Marc gestures for me to precede him, and I follow Fiona inside. Oh, it’s beautiful. The ground floor is a living area, with a sofa and a small TV, and a tiny kitchen with a sink, a microwave, a fridge, and a bench to prepare food. Stairs curve up to the first floor, which has a bedroom with a double bed and a tiny bathroom. Above that is a viewing room, with a sofa facing folding doors that open out onto a balcony overlooking the sea. In front of us there’s only the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. If we sailed out from this point, the next place we’d hit would probably be Chile.
There’s so much sky that I’m a little dizzy, but I also feel liberated at the sense of space.
I turn to Marc, who has a look of such hope on his face that my heart wants to break. “It’s amazing,” I whisper. “Absolutely perfect.”
“I’m so glad,” Fiona says brightly, giving Marc the key. “There’s a lovely bar that serves great seafood back in Haumoana, and a bakery that does takeaway rolls and sandwiches. And there’s plenty of food for breakfast in the cupboards, bread in the bread bin, and butter, milk, bacon, and eggs in the fridge, so please help yourselves.”
“Thank you so much.” Marc leads the way back downstairs and sees Fiona out, and I hear her get in her car and head back up the lane. He comes back in and stands in the center of the room, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it,” I say softly. “It was a brilliant idea.”
He glances around. “I wanted something a bit special for the conception of our son or daughter.” His gaze comes back to me, mischievous and amused.
I think of our kiss earlier, and my heart bangs against my ribs. His expression softens. “Don’t panic.”