Chapter 1

October 2008

The English Tourist Board marketed Westmouth as “The Jewel of the South Coast.” It was a stunning example of Victoriana at its most splendid and typified the seaside resorts that were popular during that era. The seafront, with its whitewashed hotels and guesthouses and its three magnificent piers stretching out into Westmouth Bay, had graced many a picture postcard. Further inland, the Winter Gardens harboured holidaymakers on rainy days and, in recent years, the new conference centre of the same name played host to the annual conference of one political party or another. The Arboretum, with its landscaped gardens full of exotic plants from around the globe and huge boating lake, was another tourist favourite.

After the heyday of the British seaside in the fifties and sixties, Westmouth avoided the sharp decline that befell towns like Blackpool, Scarborough and Skegness by appealing to the older tourists who didn’t want to jet off to the Spanish Riviera. Westmouth was the base for many a coach party touring the Garden of England in the country’s south-eastern corner. The town was also popular with the young and trendy. There was a direct train into the heart of London, and many young professionals made Westmouth their home or weekend retreat. Property prices were high, unemployment low. It was one of Britain’s most prosperous towns.

Many of the commuters felt at home in Westmouth because it was where they had spent their student years.

Westmouth University was a highly respected institution. Not as large or as wealthy as some of the city universities, it nevertheless had a proud history. Princes, kings and presidents had studied at “Westy” along with leading businessmen and award-winning wordsmiths. There had been a college on the current campus, at the top of Westmouth Hill to the north-east of the town, for over a hundred and fifty years. It was a mixture of old and new buildings. The refurbished nineteen-seventies’ Student’s Union building sat happily alongside the hundred and twenty-year-old library. The historic departments of English and Mathematics cuddled up next to the ultra-modern Institute of Sports Science.

Adam had received offers from six universities in all, including some of the largest and most prestigious universities in the country, but he’d settled on Westmouth as soon as he stepped off the train on his first visit. He’d known straight away that his future lay by the sea.

He sat on his bed and looked around at the bare walls of his new room. His parents had helped him move into the campus apartment earlier in the day, but they were long gone, leaving him alone to think about how the next three years might pan out. Someone knocked on his door. “Yeah?”

The door swung open and two of his new flatmates stepped into the room. “Hi. I ... I’m Edward,” said one. He was a tall, burly young man with closely cropped dark hair.

“Hi, Edward. I’m Adam.”

“Hi. Actually, I prefer Eddie.”

“Cool.”

“And I’m Cassie,” said the young blonde woman standing behind Eddie. She was a head shorter than him and attractive in a classical way. She reminded Adam of actress Michelle Adams in her youth and he could picture her on the big screen playing a dippy heroine in a RomCom. “Strange feeling, isn’t it? You ever lived away from home before?”

“No. No, I haven’t,” Adam replied. “And yes, it is a bit weird. Reckon I could get used to it though.”

“Yeah. Me too. Have you eaten?” Eddie asked.

Adam shook his head.

“Well, we’re going over to the Student’s Union. Apparently, there’s a pizza bar.” He raised his eyebrows and the pitch of his voice at the end of the sentence, which made it sound like a question even though it wasn’t.

“Pizza and a pint?” Adam rubbed his hands together. “I’m up for that. When are you leaving?”

“Now, if you’re ready.”