A Perfect Cornish Escape

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘I was tempted by a story. I thought I’d got a big scoop about Warner’s boss. We had a codename for him. Mr Blobby – I think you can tell who I mean …’

  Marina wrinkled her nose. ‘I do and you’re right. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him either.’

  ‘Neither did Warner. He said he secretly loathed him too, but it was all a ruse to get back at our newspaper for trying to expose his boss’s dark dealings with a big rail developer.

  ‘Warner handed me a scoop and I walked right into the trap. He claimed that Mr Blobby was taking backhanders from the rail company in return for big government contracts and said we could expose him together. What he – and Mr Blobby – actually wanted to do was discredit my newspaper in the most public way possible.’

  Marina gasped. ‘Are you saying he got close to you with this in mind, all along? I assumed it was all going well between you right up until your break-up.’

  ‘I – I’d like to think there was something real between us at the start, though perhaps I’m deluding myself. I’d known him a few years and we started seeing each other – casually at first – the year before last. Then he got a promotion and was busier and busier. I just thought he was working longer hours but, with hindsight, he did seem to grow more distant. The more I look back, the more I know I was taken in by him but didn’t want to recognise the truth: that he’d begun to see me as someone he could use, like everyone else around him.’

  Tiff paused, refusing to give in to self-pity, or worse, tears. She would not shed tears. Not in front of Marina, who had far worse things to deal with. ‘Silly old cow,’ she added lightly, wincing at her own naivety.

  That was the worst of it. Tiff, the savvy and unshakable smartest cookie in town had been conned. She was ashamed to have been duped, and deeply hurt. Worse, the experience had left her insecure and betrayed.

  ‘I’m gutted for you, hun. Anyway, you’re not old,’ Marina said, jumping to her defence. Tiff could see her cousin was genuinely worried about her.

  ‘Well, I bloody feel it!’ Tiff laughed. She was only a few years older than her cousin but, despite Marina’s recent troubles, she still had a young, almost cherubic face at thirty-six. Her blonde curls were tied back in a messy ponytail, and she wore hardly any make-up, not that she needed it with the almost year-round golden tan from a life spent outdoors. Tiff had an armoury of expensive cosmetics, many of them free samples, and she’d needed them lately just to look human.

  She thought again how lucky Nate had been to have a loving partner like Marina. Despite her own problems, Marina was still happy to provide a haven for Tiff and a sympathetic ear.

  ‘So, what did Warner do that landed you in so much trouble?’ Marina asked.

  Tiff sighed. ‘He showed me a “smoking gun” of emails between Mr Blobby and the rail company, “proving” they were offering him bribes. I was convinced they were genuine, so we published the story.’ Her voice tailed off and she cringed at the mistakes she’d made in trusting her ex.

  ‘It turned out they were fake and Mr Blobby threatened to sue the newspaper. We had to grovel and print a retraction and they agreed not to go to court if we made a large donation to his charity of choice – and if I was sacked. In the end, the editor let me resign. He said it would make it difficult to run stories about Blobby from then on unless we were absolutely watertight. No one at the major London newspapers will touch me for now, possibly forever.’

  Marina’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Surely not forever? You must have friends you can trust who would bail you out.’

  She shook her head. ‘I have colleagues, contacts, acquaintances – but no one I absolutely trust, or who can be seen helping a pariah. No one will employ me for a long while, that’s for sure. I don’t know … No one feels sorry for journalists. It goes with the job.’ She’d been so busy working and networking that making and keeping real friends had somehow been lost along the way.

  ‘I feel deeply sorry for the way you’ve been treated by this vile bunch of people. And I’m angry too, my lovely.’

  Marina’s sympathy touched a raw nerve, and Tiff smiled gratefully. ‘I should have known better, and it could be even worse. At least I do have a job – of sorts – now.’

  ‘Working for Cream of Cornish won’t be that bad,’ Marina said.

  ‘You’re right. I’m lucky they let me freelance for them at all. Thanks for asking your friend to take a chance on me.’

  ‘She was pretty gobsmacked when I told her you were coming down here for the summer and looking for work. She didn’t think she could afford you.’

  Tiff laughed. ‘I’m happy to take the going freelance rate.’

  ‘I think she’s a little bit scared of you.’

  ‘Moi? Why on earth? I’m harmless!’ Tiff sniffed the air. ‘Wow, that smells amazing.’

  ‘Oh, yes. It’ll be done!’ Marina leapt up.

  Tiff got up too. ‘I’m coming to help you serve it up and I’m doing the washing up.’

  They sat around the small table in the dining area at the end of the sitting room. It overlooked a small patch of garden from where there was an uninterrupted view of the sea. However, on this cool late April evening, which would probably be warm enough for drinks at a pavement café in central London, the wind was cold and biting. Marina said she’d light a fire after dinner, but for the time being, they sat at the table, enjoying the pancetta-wrapped hake, which was topped with a spicy tomato sauce and served with new potatoes and samphire.

  Tiff helped herself to a spoonful of samphire dressed with lemony butter.

  ‘Wow. Samphire. Is it from a local fishmonger?’

  ‘Actually, I got it from the bar on the other side of the town.’

  ‘The bar?’

  Marina smiled. ‘Loe Bar. It grows at the back of the beach. And the potatoes and fish are local too.’

  Tiff sighed in pleasure as the hake melted in her mouth. ‘I can see it’s not as uncivilised here as I thought …’ she said during bites.

  Marina laughed.

  ‘On that note, I met some of the local characters on my way here.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘Yes, Troy and Evie, who I vaguely remember from some of my holiday visits. She was a local teacher, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Mm. Mrs Carman. Been retired for years though.’

  ‘Nice lady. Funny too. Her husband asked me to deliver some leaflets for a friend. They hardly know me but they took it on trust that if I was a relative of you then I must be OK.’

  ‘You can relax here, Tiff. You can rely on people.’

  She smiled. ‘We had some good times here, didn’t we? It’ll be fun to revisit them,’ Tiff said.

  ‘What, ogling surfers? Perhaps I should be more discreet these days.’

  The Muscadet seeped further into Tiff’s veins. She waggled her glass. ‘Remember the time I got you drunk on cider at that beach party and had to half carry you home. Your mum and dad were furious.’

  ‘I was only sixteen!’ Marina laughed.

  ‘I’ve always been notorious. I bet people are gossiping about me already. I’m probably already known as the snooty Londoner who wore stupid shoes and fell over on the harbour.’

  Marina nodded and grinned. ‘Some people might remember you but I doubt very much they will have any inkling about why you lost your job. Soon, you’ll melt into the background and be no more interesting than fishing quotas. Although, saying that, they’re quite a big issue here … hmm … you know what I mean.’ Marina topped up her glass with the dregs of the bottle. ‘Unless, of course, you’re going to give them something juicy to talk about?’

  ‘No way.’ Tiff wagged her finger. ‘I’ll keep my head down and live a blameless life henceforth. Write about the opening of the new dental surgery, extol the virtues of seaweed body wraps and eulogise about the local eateries, even if the food is crap.’

  ‘Actually, Gabe Mathias’s new place is pretty amazing.’

  ‘Is it now?’ She rai
sed her eyebrows in interest. ‘I had heard he left London to run a little place down here … Hmm. I must try it out sometime.’

  ‘He lives just up the road in Clifftop House,’ Marina said. ‘But don’t get any ideas. He’s engaged to a mate of mine, Sam Lovell, and while there was a story in that once, it’s all in the past now. They’ve gone through enough without someone raking up muck about their private lives.’ Wow, the warning in Marina’s voice was real.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of muckraking.’

  ‘Good. Stick to the dentists and body wraps.’

  ‘I won’t be digging up dirt on your friends and neighbours, I swear! I want to be useful, you know, integrate closely with the local community.’ Tiff tried to cross her heart. ‘Anyway, I already have made myself useful. Those leaflets for Troy and Evie Carman that I mentioned, I gave them to one of your neighbours on my way here.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Some lifeboat person called Dirk ’n’ Stormy.’

  ‘Dirk?’ Marina sounded surprised.

  ‘Mmm. Quite a character …’

  The image of Dirk leaning in his doorway with his bare torso on show threw her off kilter and wine sloshed onto her linen top, wetting her bra. ‘Damn.’

  Marina threw her a tea towel and Tiff dabbed at her top.

  Marina smirked. ‘You know, if you really want to integrate and help the community, I have the perfect solution.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. You could help out at the fundraising day on the harbour. All the money will be split jointly between the lifeboats and the Wave Watchers. There should be quite a few visitors because it’s May bank holiday weekend.’

  ‘OK,’ Tiff said, slightly regretting her offer. ‘What kind of help?’

  ‘Running the tombola, selling raffle tickets, fetching and carrying, publicity … a woman with your skills could be very useful and we need all the money we can get to keep the station going.’

  Tiff envisioned herself standing behind a table full of cheap plonk and out-of-date chocs but hid her dismay with a wobbly salute. ‘Aye aye, Cap’n.’

  ‘And,’ said Marina, picking up Tiff’s empty plate, ‘Dirk will be at the fundraising day, if you need an added incentive.’

  ‘Really? I’m not interested, obviously.’ She pretended to inspect her nails before giving Marina a wry smile. ‘Once upon a time I would have been but not at the moment. I feel … a tad battered and bruised, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I do. Even though it’s been years, there’s been no one since Nate. It’s been hard to let go.’

  ‘I’m sorry, my love.’ Tiff squeezed Marina’s shoulder. It was so much easier to turn the attention away from herself and pretend Marina needed the comfort way more than she did. ‘But what about the lovely Dirk? How can you resist him?’

  Marina laughed. ‘Very easily. We’ve been friends for a very long time and he’s showed no interest in anything more in all the time I’ve known him.’

  ‘Hmm. That’s not a definite “no” then.’ Tiff searched Marina’s face for a hint that she was hiding a secret crush on her hunky neighbour.

  ‘It’s a definite “not likely”.’

  After ushering Marina out of her own kitchen, Tiff loaded the dishwasher and cleared away the other pots and pans. Dirk was etched on her mind and, pre-Warner, she might not have been backward in coming forward – but she really meant what she said about being battered. Dirk was hardly the man to soothe her. She had a feeling he would be … challenging.

  She would try to ‘integrate’ with the community, but as for integrating closely with Dirk ’n’ Stormy? Judging by the terse reception she’d received, it was more likely that Elvis would turn up in Porthmellow singing with the town band on a Sunday night.

  Chapter Four

  ‘So, this is the marine radar and the automatic ship identification system. We have radios to communicate with vessels and call the coastguard. And, of course, we have these.’

  Marina had been surprised and delighted when Tiff had accepted her offer for a tour of the lookout station. She showed Tiff the high-powered fixed binoculars that they used in addition to their portable sets and how to fill in the shipping and incident log, along with the procedure for reporting possible emergencies.

  Tiff had listened intently, asking pertinent questions. ‘Can I try those huge binoculars?’

  ‘Of course.’ Marina helped her adjust the focus. ‘Can you see anything yet?’

  ‘Can I see anything? Bloody hell. These are amazing. You could see a pimple on someone’s arse with them. They’re better than a long-range lens.’

  Marina rolled her eyes. ‘Hey, don’t get any ideas.’

  Tiff pulled her head away from the twin eyepieces. ‘I won’t.’ She added, sombrely, ‘Wow. The responsibility. Not sure I can handle it. Get something wrong and you could kill someone.’

  ‘Not kill. Not unless you ignored a Mayday from a vessel that couldn’t get hold of the coastguard or some obvious sign, like a lilo drifting out to sea or a windsurfer in trouble.’

  ‘That still sounds like a big responsibility.’

  ‘It is, but you learn not to miss anything. It’s amazing what you can train yourself to notice, if you’re looking hard enough in the right places. Remember, there was no one here for years before we re-opened the station so anything is an improvement.’

  Tiff slid her a sympathetic glance. ‘It’s wonderful that you got the place back open. I’m sorry I haven’t been here before. Now I’m here in the flesh, I can understand exactly why you wanted to do this in Nate’s memory.’

  ‘It wasn’t only for him. If I – we – can save even one person by being here, then it’ll be worth every minute I’ve spent begging for money to keep it open or sitting in here in hail, rain or shine.’ She broke off, almost breathless at the intensity of her statement.

  Tiff smiled ruefully. ‘I knew it meant a lot to you but I’ve only realised how much now I’m actually here, seeing you in this place, hearing how you feel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as passionate about anything. You’re different, you know,’ Tiff went on.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I probably shouldn’t say this but …’

  Marina laughed. ‘You never normally hesitate to say what you think.’

  ‘I know you adored Nate and were devastated when he disappeared, but I see a new Marina here before me. It’s as if, and forgive me for saying this, my lovely, you have emerged from his shadow and into the sun yourself.’

  Marina hid her intake of breath.

  ‘You’re not offended, are you?’ Tiff said.

  ‘N-no … not offended. You think so, really?’

  ‘Yes, I do. I’m not saying that losing Nate wasn’t a terrible thing, the worst thing anyone could have to face, but now you’ve blossomed despite that awful event. You have bloomed from the ashes, my lovely, into this strong woman who knows what she wants and gets things done. Yet you’re still the kind, compassionate cousin I always knew.’

  ‘Stop it, Tiff. I’m not some kind of Mother Teresa.’ Marina felt tears sting her eyes.

  ‘Don’t worry, I know you’re no saint.’ She laughed. ‘But I do think it’s time that this new Marina should – and you can tell me to mind my own business …’ There was a guarded humour in Tiff’s tone.

  ‘Not that it would make a scrap of difference.’ Marina laughed.

  ‘Yeah. What I’m trying to say is … well, isn’t it time that you thought about you?’

  ‘You mean I should start dating again?’

  ‘Not necessarily a relationship. Just someone to have fun with – and maybe hot sex.’

  Marina gasped. ‘Like who? I know almost every guy in Porthmellow and I’m not interested in any of them.’

  ‘Is there no one who’s even tickled your fancy in the past few years? What about some of the Wave Watchers?’

  Marina snorted. ‘The men are either pensioners, students or gay. Ew, I love most of them to bits as fe
llow volunteers but I can’t imagine dating any of them.’

  ‘Have you ever tried to get back out there again beyond Porthmellow? What about the Internet or Tinder?’

  ‘I’ve been fixed up with guys by well-meaning friends at dinner parties a few times. I tried a dating site once but after one meet-up where the guy turned out to be a trawlerman with halitosis and a secret life as a druid, I gave up.’

  ‘A druid with halitosis? Oh my God!’ Tiff dissolved into laughter, then became more serious. ‘If it’s loyalty to Nate holding you back, you’ve more than honoured his memory. You deserve to be happy,’ she said. ‘Again, I mean,’ she added hastily, as if Marina might assume she meant she wasn’t with Nate.

  Marina remembered the vow she’d made after Nate had first vanished.

  I’ll never stop loving you …

  She’d held fast to that, but it didn’t stop her craving love again, did it?

  ‘I’ll admit, it’s been hard not to feel disloyal to Nate … but if I met someone special, I’d give them a chance.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I mean it, but I haven’t met someone yet,’ she said, although Tiff had made her look at her life in a new way. By sheer force of will, she’d ignored the pain, conquered her grief and raised the money to re-open the station. Tiff might be right, although Marina hadn’t thought about her life after Nate in this way before.

  Someone had once told her that there was always a sun in a relationship … Nate for all his faults, had been lively and popular, at least with the people he didn’t owe money to. He could be charming, funny and was the life and soul of any party. She’d seen herself as the anchor in his life, she’d thought, content to live in his shadow.

  It was ironic that his death, while almost destroying her at first, had seen her emerge out of that shadow and into the light. She’d had to force herself to peer out of the darkness, step by painful step. She might never have dared, without the motivation of the Wave Watchers project. It had replaced Nate in her life. She was its rock and it was hers.