A perfect cornish summer, p.14
A Perfect Cornish Summer, page 14
‘If you’re sure?’ said Sam, unwilling to leave Evie and Troy on their own.
Evie smiled warmly. ‘More than sure. Go on. Gemma’s only twenty minutes away and I’m sure you and Gabe have a lot to do.’
Reluctantly, Sam agreed and kissed Evie goodbye with a request that she keep her updated on Troy’s condition.
‘I’ll be out in a minute,’ said Gabe, handing over his keys to Sam.
‘Oh. OK.’ She assumed he was off to the gents’ so she walked slowly to the car park. It was a big relief to know that Troy was OK. He’d clearly been in way more pain than he’d let on and Evie was worrying too. They might be an odd couple – Troy was odd, anyway, and Evie was lovely – but they were obviously devoted to each other and Evie’s story about how Troy came by his name was priceless. Some stories did have happy endings, some people did stay together for – well as close to forever as humans were ever allowed.
She opened the Range Rover and climbed inside. Gabe’s minute stretched to twenty and Sam checked her phone. Where had he got to?
Just as she was thinking of calling him, he jogged over the car park and opened the door. ‘Sorry, I was longer than expected.’
‘I thought you’d been admitted or something.’
‘No. I was um … with the nurses.’
Sam raised an eyebrow.
‘They wanted some selfies with me.’
‘What? I thought they told that guy that he couldn’t take pictures with patients?’
‘There’s one rule for the patients and one for staff. I agreed to donate some signed books and a meal at the new restaurant for the scanner appeal too.’
‘Wow. You really are a hero,’ Sam said sarcastically.
‘In some quarters,’ said Gabe, pushing the start button. The car purred into life. ‘Let’s go home.’
The irony of the word wasn’t lost on Sam. Home. Gabe might have meant her home, or his former home, or the place he intended to settle in for however long. Whichever way, she knew she was going to have to get used to his continued presence and, more importantly, the way she felt about his presence. Neither of them said much as they drove towards Porthmellow along the road that skirted Mount’s Bay. It was almost dark and St Michael’s Mount was silhouetted against the indigo sky, with lights twinkling in the castle and in the tiny harbour at its base. Gabe pulled away gently as Sam peered out of the window.
He took the road through the centre of Marazion, it was late and there wasn’t much traffic. The car moved slowly along the main street, with its shuttered cafés and shops, until it stopped at a pedestrian crossing to let half a dozen young guys across. They had obviously had a few, laughing and exchanging banter as they headed down a street on the nearside of the car towards a pub. One of them blew Sam a kiss and she rolled her eyes at him.
Once they were off the crossing, Gabe pulled away, but something caught Sam’s eye and she twisted round. Her pulse rate shot up and her stomach knotted.
‘Stop!’ she shouted.
Gabe was driving past the central square now. ‘Hey! What’s the matter?’
She stabbed the window button and it slid down. She undid her seat belt and pushed her face through the open window. ‘Wait!’ The seat belt alarm started screeching.
‘I can’t stop here. There are people behind. Hang on.’ Gabe pulled into a bus stop and she fumbled with the door. By now, the pub was a hundred yards behind them.
He put his hand on her arm, preventing her from getting out. ‘For God’s sake, wait. What’s the matter?’
She tried to pull away. ‘I just saw Ryan. Crossing the street. I’m sure it was him.’
His jaw dropped. ‘Ryan? It can’t be.’
‘That guy who walked last over the crossing in the orange hoodie. It was the image of him.’
‘I saw him, but his face didn’t ring a bell. Mind you, I couldn’t see that much of it.’
‘The way he walked across in front of us. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, just like Ryan used to. He had red hair too. I’m sure it was him. I was sure …’ Even as the words were out, doubts were creeping in that it really had been Ryan. It was just a fleeting glimpse under streetlights of a man in a hood, and yet there was something.
‘My God.’ He took his hand away. ‘What are you going to do? I can’t wait here. A bus could come along any time. Do you want me to park up and we’ll go and look for him?’
Sam sank back in her seat. ‘No. Yes. Arggh, I don’t know. That guy was so much like him.’
‘It has been ten years, Sam,’ Gabe said softly.
‘I’d know my own brother.’ She closed her eyes and leaned back against the leather. Gabe’s gentle tone had made her angry, but not at him. She hadn’t meant to snap, but she was so shocked to see the guy, so sure in that split second that it had been her brother. ‘I’m sorry. Maybe I was mistaken.’
‘Maybe.’
‘He had a beard, but he did look about the right age … and you know Ryan used to scrunch up his shoulders and shove his hands in his pockets when he was nervous or anxious?’
‘Yeah, I remember. I’ll turn around if you really want me to.’
Sam was torn. The man hadn’t seemed part of the group even though he was with them. It was hard to explain, but she had a feeling he didn’t know them that well. It could have been her brother, but it might also have been a random ginger bloke out for a drink with his mates. Besides, there was no reason whatsoever for Ryan to be back in Cornwall and if it had been him, surely Gabe would have recognised him too?
He laid his hand over hers again. ‘Look. It’s late. It’s dark. I’m not saying it wasn’t him, but why would he be here? If he was, why hasn’t he been in contact?’
Everything he said made sense yet her skin still prickled with unease. ‘Yes. You’re right,’ she said. She leaned back in her seat. ‘I must be seeing things. I’m knackered.’
She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the sense of disappointment and the way she’d felt about Gabe touching her. She could still feel the warmth and weight of his hand over hers. It had been a long time since he’d touched her like that. It had felt good – right.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
She opened her eyes to find him staring ahead through the screen. His knuckles were white on the wheel.
‘What for, exactly?’ she said.
‘Everything.’
‘Everything?’ What did that mean? Shopping Ryan or coming back to Porthmellow again and turning her life upside down? Or something else?
‘I’ll turn around and we’ll look for him if you really want me to,’ he said, his hand resting on the gear selector.
Sam shook her head. ‘No. It probably wasn’t him. You didn’t recognise him, did you?’
‘I had my eyes on the road so I couldn’t say for sure.’
Sam let out a sigh. She was as tense as a wire. ‘I’m tired and I just want to go home.’
‘Good idea.’ And with that, Gabe drove off. Sam sank back into the cocoon of the seat. It had been a hectic and emotional day, in a variety of ways. A day when she’d allowed herself to glimpse a time when she might forgive Gabe … or at least understand his reasons. If she scaled that hurdle, what might lie beyond for them? Happy years like Troy and Evie had enjoyed and still did?
She snuck a look at Gabe, intent on the road ahead, his fingers curved lightly around the leather wheel. He looked sexier than she’d ever seen him; no wonder he’d attracted so many admiring glances and attention in the hospital. And when he’d touched her, his skin had felt so good against her own. Deliciously warm … even such an innocent gesture had made sparks fly deep inside her body. Or was it only comfort she needed? Would any man do?
No. That was why she’d turned down offers of dates and why no relationship had lasted longer than a couple of months since Gabe had gone. She had to be honest with herself that her lack of a love life wasn’t due to pressures of work or family duties or festival responsibilities, it was the shadow of Gabe, pure and simple.
Was that why she still hadn’t forgiven him? Not because of what he’d done to Ryan but what he continued to do to her?
He caught her eye and smiled. Sam feigned a yawn and closed her eyes, resting her head against the head restraint again while her body told her it needed anything but sleep. She might be exhausted, but the thought of sharing her bed – any bed – with Gabe tonight, no matter what their differences, was more tempting than it had ever been. She had the feeling she only had to say a single word and he’d drive her straight through the gates of Clifftop House and there’d be no turning back.
‘We’re here,’ he said.
She opened her eyes. Gabe was looking at her, his lips pressed firmly together. He’d stopped right outside Wavecrest Cottage.
‘Oh. Right.’ She unclipped her seat belt. ‘I’ll probably see you around.’
‘Probably, although I’ve got some stuff to do in London so I might be away for a few days.’
‘Oh, OK.’ Sam tried to not sound disappointed even though she felt unaccountably dispirited by his answer. She opened the door and got out. ‘Thanks for helping Troy and Evie.’
‘It was no trouble.’ His smile was fleeting and his eyes were quickly back on the road ahead as if he was eager to be gone.
Sam found herself torn between wanting to be out of his sight and longing to stay, which was ridiculous. ‘Bye, then.’
‘Bye.’
She shut the door behind her and hurried straight into the cottage, listening to the sound of the Range Rover engine heading the short distance up the hill to Clifftop House.
Chapter Seventeen
Chloe loved Porthmellow in the evening sunlight, even if it did come with a ‘breeze’ that rattled your teeth. Walking along the quayside on her way back from her Zumba class to the Crow’s Nest she passed the Tinners’. Locals and tourists mingled outside, sinking pints on the terrace.
The Zumba class had been fun and a relaxing break from work. It was a shame Sam hadn’t been able to make it, but she’d had a shift in Stargazey. Thankfully, Chloe knew almost all of the other dancers by now and they always had a laugh, getting tangled up and bashing into each other. No one took the class that seriously, unlike some of the gym bunnies at her Surrey health club, which suited her because she had two left feet when it came to any kind of dancing.
In the weeks since, she’d thought about the after-meeting get-together in the pub many times. Sandwiched between two not unattractive younger guys, chatting with Sam and the other committee members, she’d really felt her spirits lifting. Gabe had been funny and charming and while it might have been a professional persona, Chloe didn’t think so. She could see exactly why Sam had fallen for him and thought it sad they’d split up.
Gabe was even taller than he looked on TV and it had to be said, way more good looking. He had thick dark hair and eyes the colour of burnt caramel. Yes, he was gorgeous, he made you want to look at him and listen to him … and yet, funnily enough even with a heart throb TV chef paying her attention, she was drawn just as much to Drew. She wondered what he’d think if he knew her real age … Argh. She was going to have to come clean, sooner or later. Either that or hide her birthday cards before the party.
‘Hi there!’
Drew’s shout came from somewhere nearby. Talk of the devil.
She glanced around her and he called again. With a smile, she peered over the quayside to find him looking up from the deck of the Marisco, a rope in his hand. Maybe he was lashing something down. He needed to, because the wind had risen very quickly while she’d been at Zumba.
‘Hi!’ she yelled, but her words were snatched away by the wind. He waved and she waved back, but left him to his work. The last thing she wanted was to get close to him while she was all hot and sweaty.
Chloe hurried home desperate for a shower, but some of the gusts were strong enough to take her breath away. A loud clatter made her jump. A few feet ahead, a metal pub table complete with parasol had been blown clean over. One of the fishermen picked it up, and was joined by a barman from the pub, who started to take down the other parasols. It wasn’t easy, because the wind was flapping wildly as they wrestled with the canvas parasols.
Rattles and crashes rang out from all sides of the harbour as other loose items came rolling down the street: mostly cans and plastic coffee cups, but a wheelie bin had also crashed onto its side, spewing out rubbish that was immediately attacked by the gulls.
Overtopping the howls of the wind was the powerful roar of the surf breaking on the shingle to the right of the harbour. Waves slammed into the wall throwing up plumes of spray and foam and soaking the far quayside.
Chloe rescued a baby’s blanket that had escaped from a buggy, which the mother wheeled towards her.
‘Thanks!’ said the mum, pulling her hair out of her eyes.
‘Everything not nailed down is going to fly out of Porthmellow today,’ said Chloe, her own eyes watering as she handed over the blanket. It felt soft between her fingers. The baby – no more than twelve months old – smiled and clutched it.
The mother peered over the handles and spoke to her child. ‘Come on, Molly, we’d better get you home to bed before this wind gets any worse and blows us into the harbour.’ She glanced up at Chloe and smiled.
‘How old is she?’ Chloe asked.
‘She was one last weekend.’
‘How lovely. My granddaughter will be a year in a few weeks’ time.’
‘They’re such a handful, aren’t they? This one has just found her feet.’ The mother tickled her daughter under the chin. ‘She can only do a few steps, but she’s a demon at crawling and climbing the stairs. I swear my hair’s grey already and I’m only twenty-six. You’ll know that though, being a granny and a mum.’ She looked happily at Chloe.
Chloe smiled back. ‘Yes. They’re tiring at this age …’ She stopped. She wanted so much to talk about Ruby and share her experiences but she couldn’t. Anything else she would say would be wishful thinking at best, and a total lie at worst.
The young mum sighed. ‘Better get Molly home, then.’
‘Bye,’ Chloe muttered. Now the mother and baby were gone, Chloe resolved to hurry back to the Crow’s Nest and steel herself to try again to contact Hannah. She was a few yards from the steps when a loud rip and a crash stopped her in her tracks. The noise was followed by shouts and the barman and fisherman running to the harbour. The large festival banner strung onto poles by the harbour had snapped clean out of its fastenings and was flapping wildly in the wind. One end dangled in the water but the other was still roped to the pole.
As the two men approached, there was a sharp snap and the other end broke free of the pole.
‘Run!’ The men dived for cover, and the banner just missed them. It sailed through the air, dragging a wheelie bin with it before dropping into the harbour. Chloe ran to the quayside to see it floating in the harbour and blocking the entrance a few feet from Drew’s boat.
In seconds, Drew had climbed over the side of the Marisco and onto the small fishing boat berthed next to it. His feet were bare which meant – no, he couldn’t be – but he was … slipping over the side of the boat into the water and swimming towards the banner. People started to gather around the harbour while Drew towed the huge plastic poster towards the slipway. Chloe jogged over to the crowd. There were shouts of ‘be careful, mate’ and two fishermen in wellies ran down to meet him. The banner must have been heavy, with its wet ropes and metal eyelets, but Drew managed to reach the slipway where the fishermen got hold of the end of it and dragged it onto the cobbles.
Drew emerged from the water, dripping wet but laughing.
Chloe heard the locals ask if he was OK. He grinned and one slapped him on the back.
‘It’s that there bloody Poldark,’ said a grizzled fisherman.
Drew pushed his hair off his face and shook water off his arms.
Chloe was torn between worrying about what he might have swallowed in the mucky harbour water and admiring the way his shirt had stuck to his chest. OK. He was fit and strong and he compared very favourably with the ‘helpers’ on the ramp, one of whom still had a pint in his hand. What was wrong with her lately? Fangirling over Gabe and now ogling Drew? What would Fraser have thought? He’d have laughed and called Drew a ‘yokel’, probably. Fraser was suspicious of men who wore brown shoes with a suit, let alone anyone with a ponytail and an earring. Yes, Drew would have pushed every one of Fraser’s ‘drop-out’ buttons … he pushed Chloe’s buttons too, but in a very different way. Her wicked thoughts rapidly turned to concern as Drew was now shivering. Someone draped an old waterproof coat round his back and told him he was nuts. Chloe was inclined to agree.
She hurried over to him, careful of the slimy weed on the slipway. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked. The wind was still gusting hard and Drew tugged the flapping mac around his T-shirt.
‘A bit on the cool side but I’m fine.’
She shook her head. ‘Why didn’t you wait for someone to help fish out the banner?’
‘I dunno. Impulse, I guess. I thought I’d dive in and get it before it could cause any more damage. It was blocking the entrance to the outer harbour and I wasn’t totally sure it wouldn’t sink, given the weight of the metal fastenings. Plus I couldn’t be arsed to wait for all the fussing over ’ealth and safety and who was going to launch a boat etcetera, etcetera. Anyway, I used to jump into that harbour every night during the summer holidays. I know it like the back of my hand.’
‘I suppose you are a grown-up. Allegedly.’ She was amused by Drew’s antics now he was safely on dry land. She brushed her fringe out of her eyes. The wind was still very strong and the halyards were clattering on the masts of the yachts. ‘And we’ve got the banner back safely, but you must be freezing.’
‘I wouldn’t mind getting out of these clothes, to be honest. I’ll pop into my house and get changed. It won’t take a moment.’
‘Me too. Can I get you a coffee afterwards? Or something stronger? You deserve it.’
He laughed. ‘I’m not sure about that. Kenny, the lifeboat helm, called me a bloody idiot. I don’t know what came over me, but an offer like that is too good to miss. I’ll grab a hot shower and then shall I meet you in the Tinners’ in five minutes?’
