A Perfect Cornish Escape

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘If I hadn’t done it, someone else would,’ she said.

  ‘I’m glad you did, and I understand why you wanted to. I’m not judging you, Tiff.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She blew him a kiss, touched by his understanding. ‘It’s the one way I can help her. I’ve been desperate to get it right for Marina’s sake. I don’t think I realised how hard it would be and I did wonder if I was the right person to tell her story.’

  ‘No wonder you’re shattered if you put your heart and soul into it,’ he said, and sighed. ‘Imagine being the subject of it.’

  Tiff nodded. It was the first time she’d ever felt so drained by a story. It was a new feeling. She sipped her gin. ‘Writing it has given me a better insight into the hell Marina was – and is – going through.’

  ‘She must be having a crap time and she doesn’t deserve it. I feel deeply sorry for her. I wouldn’t pretend to know what she’s going through, though I understand how it feels to be at the centre of a media storm.’

  Tiff was heartened by his empathy. ‘You could tell her that when you see her. She needs her friends and neighbours to give her some sense of normality and kindness.’

  His tone darkened. ‘I’ll chuck those leeches in the sea if I see them bothering her!’

  She had to smile. ‘A very noble sentiment but perhaps not the best way of avoiding further publicity. Besides, have you forgotten I’m one of the “leeches” myself?’

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re doing the story for Marina’s sake and this is what you do.’

  ‘Yes, it’s what I do,’ she said wearily.

  He nodded. ‘Let’s have a drink. I made a cassoulet for dinner. I’ve been hoarding a good bottle of Crozes Hermitages and now seems as good a time as any.’

  Tiff sat down to the meal and the excellent wine. It was great to have someone cook for her but she felt very low. It might be only that she was wrung out emotionally and physically, or that the days were shortening, although she couldn’t deny she was apprehensive about the reaction to her article and the effect on Marina. She’d hate it if the story made things worse, not better.

  The following day, Tiff’s exclusive appeared in the Post. By eleven a.m. that morning, she’d had to stop the car in an Asda car park on her way to do an ad feature on the tenth anniversary of World of Hot Tubs in Falmouth, because her phone had been going crazy.

  There were calls and messages from several editors, including Yvette Buttler, the editor-in-chief of the Post itself. She knew what they might be about, and although she’d expected some reaction to the story, she had never anticipated this. Tiff phoned Yvette back and found herself with an offer of a job covering maternity leave for their features editor, with a view to a permanent position at the newspaper if all went well.

  ‘Call me when you’ve had chance to think about it,’ Yvette said, which really meant that Tiff should snatch her hand off.

  She drove home, pleased for once that she was stuck behind a potato lorry, as it gave her time to think.

  How ironic it was. What a shitty world this could be at times. She’d been desperate for a break in London, but she never would have wished things to happen this way. Now she’d profited from Marina’s misfortune and felt sick to her stomach. She pulled up in the parking spot next to Marina’s garage, laid her head on the headrest and prayed for forgiveness.

  Everything she’d wanted, hoped for, a mere six months ago was hers: a dream job, a chance to return to London, and the vindication.

  Redemption and reward were laid out in front of her. All she had to do was take them.

  She took a deep breath and called Yvette back.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  There was a hint of yellow in the trees when Marina returned home from her parents’ house the Saturday after her story had been published. A few leaves were floating in the harbour and had piled up on the slipway. September had crept up on Porthmellow while she’d been dealing with the turmoil in her own life.

  Normally at this time of year, she’d have been in college to prepare for the new term but, instead, she’d been on compassionate leave dealing with the fallout of the past. She’d decided to stay with her parents when the article appeared to avoid any more press attention, and to her huge relief, there were no longer any photographers or reporters hanging around her house.

  She’d not spoken with Lachlan while she’d been away. They’d withdrawn from each other, like the tides ebbing away; clearly, he’d taken her at her word to give her space. She’d like to say she was ready to move in his direction, but that wasn’t yet true.

  She was still overwhelmed by the shock of finding Nate and the fact that Lachlan had interfered – however well intentioned his actions were. She was still in survival mode. The past few days of hiding away had made her feel that her life had been snatched away again, and she felt she needed to claw back a semblance of normality.

  Steeling herself, she decided to go into town and have a coffee at the Harbour Café, a familiar environment. Most of the customers were holidaymakers, pensioners or people in walking boots. She recognised a couple of faces, including Drew and Chloe who smiled and then went back to their coffees. Ellie Latham was working behind the counter and insisted on making her a free flat white, while discreetly asking how she was.

  Ellie’s sister, Scarlett, came in with her boyfriend, Jude, and they sat at the table next to Marina and started chatting to her about the next Solstice Festival, which was coming up in December. She guessed they were trying to avoid bringing up the elephant in the room and she appreciated it, even though it was hard to concentrate on ‘normal’ life or even see beyond the end of the week – let alone to Christmas and a new year.

  After her coffee, she forced herself to go to the supermarket, pleased to have survived her first hour in Porthmellow. It was more difficult than the coffee shop and she felt eyes burning into her back. Some were familiar faces who glanced at her and forced smiles when they caught her eye, quickly going back to extravagantly examining cereal packets and carrots. Others were locals she knew only by sight, and they were not so shy in openly staring. She wondered if they might even have followed her inside the shop to confirm she was who they’d thought, or might be messaging their friends.

  She carried on shopping, putting stuff in her basket without really caring what it was. Ready meals, tins, who cared? She wanted to get home. While the press attention had abated, the other issues associated with Nate’s discovery had not.

  The police had been in touch but Nate’s disappearance was now a matter for the South African authorities. They were investigating how he’d entered the country and there was a strong possibility that he could be arrested and even jailed. Marina didn’t want that to happen but she couldn’t see how it could be avoided. She was drained and exhausted.

  Her solicitor was dealing with all the legal issues, but that meant a constant stream of emails, calls and letters to deal with, each one hammering home the bizarre and awful reality of the situation. It had been horrible to even have to answer questions about whether she’d known Nate was alive. She’d had to break the news to so many people now, and every conversation had been hard in its own way. Even when she had a moment of peace, the biggest, most terrible question of all pecked away at her.

  Why?

  Why had Nate done this to her?

  What had she done to him to make him leave?

  ‘Hello.’

  A familiar voice reached her and she was filled with relief to see Dirk’s face looming over the other side of a bread display.

  He joined her in a quiet corner. ‘I needn’t ask how you are?’ he said in a low voice.

  She had to smile. ‘Do I look that bad?’

  ‘No, but you’ve been staring at that packet for a while.’

  Marina realised she was holding a bag of pain au chocolat. She dropped them into her basket, figuring that any food in the cottage was better than nothing.

  ‘Thanks for the support you’ve given me since Nat
e … since he was found.’

  ‘It was a pleasure.’ He grimaced. ‘You know what I mean. I’m only sorry you’re having to deal with this shitstorm. I hate to use a cliché but, in this case, it’s warranted. This will blow over, I promise.’

  ‘I hope so. To be honest, it’s already dying down a bit.’

  He nodded. ‘I – um – had a taste of it myself after Amira left. Nothing like this, but it was still crap. We never asked for it.’ Dirk glared at a young woman who was openly staring at Marina, a phone in her hand.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he growled, and the woman hastily shoved her phone in her bag and scuttled off. ‘Vultures,’ he muttered.

  ‘Thanks for coming over. I do appreciate it, Dirk.’

  ‘Any time.’ He smiled and Marina was struck by the expression in his eyes. He was a beautiful man, almost sculptural in his handsomeness. Too austere for her taste, but she could see why Tiff had fallen so hard for him. She wondered if Dirk felt the same way.

  Marina walked home and escaped into her garden. The tubs were still in bloom but some were past their best so she dead headed the faded flowers then made a cuppa and sat on her bench. She ought to tackle the Wave Watchers rota for the next week, which was tricky now that she wasn’t doing any shifts.

  She hadn’t been up to the station since Lachlan had broken the news about Nate. The volunteers had rallied round, doing extra stints or manning the station solo, and one former member had even come down from Wales for a few days specially to help out, but she knew they couldn’t go on like this for long.

  Tiff came home to find her back indoors, with the laptop, juggling with the rota. She held up a paper bag and a delicious aroma filled the sitting room. ‘I come bearing gifts. I was passing the Stargazey Pie van and Sam Lovell insisted on giving me free pies.’

  Marina’s appetite wasn’t great but she was very touched by Sam’s kindness. There were some solid gold people in Porthmellow, some of whom you could trust with your life. ‘That’s great. I haven’t had time to cook. Again.’

  Tiff fetched plates and Marina unearthed a tub of coleslaw she must have bought from the shop earlier.

  ‘You look worn out, my love. Is that more stuff to do with Nate?’ She pointed to the computer after they’d eaten.

  ‘No. It’s the Wave Watchers rota. I’m struggling to fill it.’

  ‘I can keep you company if you want to go. I’m slightly less than useless now,’ Tiff said.

  ‘That’s kind but it’s not your usefulness I’m worried about.’

  Tiff nodded but Marina could tell she was bemused. Marina couldn’t tell her the truth: that Nate’s reappearance and betrayal and her own guilt and shame meant that right now she wasn’t sure she could ever go back to the Wave Watchers.

  ‘Have you seen Lachlan since you got back from your mum’s?’ Tiff asked.

  ‘No … and I don’t want to.’ Unable to face talking about her feelings towards Lachlan, she quickly switched the conversation to Tiff. ‘How are you and Dirk? You must have been spending a lot of time away from him with all my stuff going on.’

  ‘Oh, we’re fine. He’s busy too. He went on some course at the lifeboats HQ. Something about saving lives and engines.’

  Marina frowned. ‘You normally know exactly what he’s up to. You know you care, really.’

  ‘Do I?’ she said, shrugging.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, we both have our own lives, don’t we? We managed perfectly well before I came to Porthmellow. It’ll do him good to spend some time away from me.’

  On Monday Marina phoned her boss and said she wanted to go back to work. She started to do some of her college admin from home when the house phone rang out. The handset showed a London number and she was going to ignore it but decided to answer it, in case it was related to Nate.

  Tiff arrived home around four, so Marina let her settle down with a coffee before telling her about the call.

  ‘I had a phone call this afternoon from the editor of the Post. Yvette Buttler?’

  ‘What?’ Tiff rolled her eyes. ‘I told them not to hassle you and to do everything through me. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t get worked up. It was you she wanted, she asked if you could call her. Is it about the story?’

  ‘Ooh, I’m not sure. Could be …’

  Abandoning her coffee, Tiff took her mobile outside to make her call. Marina heard dull snatches of conversation for a few minutes, then silence. However, it was a further ten minutes or so before Tiff came back into the sitting room, looking a little shell-shocked.

  ‘What’s going on? Are you OK?’ Marina asked.

  ‘Yes, but I need to tell you something, and you must promise not to be angry or try to persuade me to change my mind.’

  ‘Why would I do that? What does this call have to do with me?’

  ‘Yvette showed faith in me even when things were bad – she was the one who provided the auction tickets. She’s offered me a job as features editor after our story appeared. It’s maternity cover but it might become something permanent.’

  Marina sat up straight. ‘That’s fantastic news.’

  ‘It is but I’m not going to take it.’

  ‘What? You’re joking! Why ever not?’

  Tiff pouted. ‘I’m not leaving until the worst of this has blown over.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Marina wagged her finger, and not in jest. ‘You’re not giving up this chance for me. I don’t need mollycoddling. You have to take it.’

  ‘Yvette will wait.’ Tiff set her jaw. ‘She’ll give me another chance as soon as one comes up.’

  ‘Tiffany Trescott. I will never forgive you if you don’t do this … unless you want to stay for other reasons too. Like Dirk … Does he know about this yet?’

  ‘Of course not. He wouldn’t want me to stay here either, but that’s what I intend to do.’

  ‘Don’t you think you should give him the chance to say how he feels?’ Marina asked, in despair at Tiff’s stubbornness.

  ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea for either of us, but I will tell him if and when I decide to leave. I’m certainly not leaving you until the interest has died down and I’m certain you’ll be OK.’ Tiff folded her arms and Marina saw the pout melt into a rueful smile. ‘You can’t change my mind. I won’t leave you.’

  ‘Oh Tiff, you can’t do any more, and I have the Wave Watchers, and plenty of friends and neighbours. They offered to stay with me in shifts and keep a guard at the door to get rid of the press – although they seem to have gone now anyway.’

  ‘And … you haven’t mentioned Lachlan?’ Tiff said.

  ‘Perhaps I can’t handle anything more at the moment. I can’t see a way forward.’

  ‘You will do, once you can breathe again.’

  Marina was touched but wracked with guilt that her cousin had turned down her big chance. The fallout from Nate’s actions had spread like ripples in a pool, affecting those she cared for most, from Lachlan to Tiff. Would it ever end?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  ‘How did today go?’ Tiff asked, accepting the cool beer Marina handed her. It was Marina’s first day back at college.

  Marina joined her on the garden bench. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Obviously the students were curious and a few of the younger ones asked me questions, but most of the new ones were too terrified to speak or only interested in talking to their mates.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll take a self-obsessed teenager over a nosy colleague any day.’

  ‘I’m glad you felt you could go back to work …’ Tiff rested her own bottle on the arm of the bench. ‘Have you given any more thought to going back to the Wave Watchers?’ she said.

  ‘That’s much more difficult.’

  ‘Why?’

  She sighed. ‘Because I feel like a fraud, and that I’ve betrayed people’s trust.’

  ‘Oh, my love, why would you think that?’ Tiff exclaimed.

  ‘Because the station – the whole Wave Watchers project – was
built on a terrible lie. All that effort, all that energy that I threw into starting the Wave Watchers … People sympathised with me, I played on their sympathy and good nature. On their pity. They gave their time and their money to re-open the station, for my sake, when all along …’ She raised her eyes to the sky in shame. ‘That plaque on the wall dedicating the hut to Nate’s memory. The thought of even seeing it makes me feel sick with guilt.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ Tiff said sternly. ‘You didn’t know any of that. Nate was dead, in your eyes. Your feelings were genuine and no one will think otherwise. And besides, they didn’t do it only for you and Nate. They did it for their loved ones, for the community, for themselves. They knew it would save lives and it has. For God’s sake, don’t let Nate steal this Wave Watchers from you along with everything else he’s taken.’

  The passion in Tiff’s voice moved Marina, but she still felt desolate.

  ‘Everything you’re saying is right, but I can’t help it. What’s happened has shaken everything I believed in: love, this community, myself. Now I don’t know if I can ever go back.’

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Tiff had just walked out of a luxury apartment development when her mobile rang. On seeing Yvette’s number, she was a little surprised. After all, she’d turned down the job twice. Perhaps she was calling in connection with more freelance work.

  ‘Tiff. Hello. Yvette here. I have to tell you that your cousin called me this morning and told me that I mustn’t let you turn this job down.’

  Tiff couldn’t stop her squeak of amazement. ‘What? I had no idea! Marina did that?’

  ‘Clearly she has your interests at heart. Would you consider changing your mind?’

  ‘I – I’d need to think about it,’ Tiff said, still taken aback by Marina’s intervention and Yvette renewing her offer. She must be very keen to work with Tiff.

  ‘OK, but please, let me have your answer asap, because I really need a features ed. We’re busy, and going to be busier. And, Tiff, before you go – I have to tell you something else you might be interested in …’