Palms feeling sweaty, I squinted once more. Surely he wasn’t about to do something stupid? My mind raced. My chest squeezed. No. Not Tremain. First, Johnny, and now … I wasn’t ready to go through losing anyone else I remotely cared about again. I stuffed my fist into my mouth as I gagged and the tide swept a couple of the flowers back, past me. I bent down to pick one up and smelt it, then put it back to continue whatever journey Tremain had intended. When I raised my head back up, Tremain sat on a rock and hugged his knees. Thank God. Thank God. He’d stayed on dry land.
My throat tightened. I blinked rapidly. He started to rock to and fro, hands covering his bowed head. Quietly, I clambered over, balancing as best I could on the slate-grey, wet rocks. The waves became bigger and pooled across to my feet as their crests broke. The smell of salt replaced the harbour’s fishy stench.
‘Tremain?’ I said softly, as I stood behind him. He didn’t turn around. Perhaps he hadn’t heard due to the rising wind and rough water. ‘Tremain?’
His face lifted. He turned and deep, sorrowful eyes met mine. He opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and looked away again. My chest ached, as I crouched down behind him. His body rocked forwards and backwards again, like an animal locked in a cage.
‘Oh, Tremain,’ I mumbled and slid my arms around his shoulders. Rain pelted now, as I leant my cheek on his shoulder and rubbed my hands up and down his arms. Slowly the rocking stopped and Tremain sat still, despite waves crashing near his legs.
‘It’s OK. I’m here. No need to talk,’ I said. Many a lost moment I’d had like this, when Johnny first left, and talking had been the last thing on my mind. ‘But we can’t stay here for ever. If the storm worsens it could get dangerous.’
‘But it ended so badly and was all my fault,’ he said in a strangulated voice.
‘What was?’ I said gently and rubbed his back. A relationship? His career in the army? However, no more words came from him, so I scrambled to my feet, walked around to his side and held out my hand. Tremain looked up, took it and unsteadily got to his feet. He wiped his eyes. I stood on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his neck. For what seemed like the longest time ever, we just hugged, despite the pelting rain, my racing pulse—and one heart-wrenching gulp from Tremain.
CHAPTER 13
In a conventional relationship, with a normal person, connecting, like me and Tremain did, on the rocks, would make you closer, right? Not that I was looking for thanks from him but a bit of friendship, well, a girl can never get enough of that. But no. As soon as we were back on the sand, he shook away my arm.
‘Thanks for nothing,’ he muttered. ‘I wanted to stay out a bit longer.’
‘Would that really have been a good idea,’ I said, softly.
‘That’s for me to decide.’ He shrugged, as my teeth chattered. ‘Anyway, you haven’t the skin for the extremes of Cornish weather. Kensa has enough to deal with at the moment, without me being responsible for you coming down with pneumonia. You should have left me there. Minded your own business. Let me do what I’d been planning all year.’
My jaw fell open and a wave of nausea hit the back of my throat. ‘You weren’t thinking of … Things are never as bad as you think, over time, Tremain. Please tell me you haven’t considered …’
‘Jumping into the sea, to end it all?’ He snorted. ‘Of course not. I would never do that to my parents.’
Yet he looked away, out to the ocean, which looked ash-coloured, as the afternoon started to head towards evening. His wet T-shirt clung to the firm contours of his chest. Broad shoulders. Slim waist. A person who’d led an active life.
‘What is it with you,’ he finally said and turned back. ‘Saving imaginary people from fires, rescuing me from a supposed suicide attempt—your safety would fare better, so it would, if you lived in the real world. The average person doesn’t thrive on drama.’
‘Nor do I.’ Count to twenty, Kate, like you used to with toddlers in your old job. ‘I think you’ll find it’s called having a bit of humanity.’ Something a cold, insensitive zombie like him would never understand. How it drained me. The ups and downs. One minute the expression in his eyes warmed me up, the next they shimmered all frosty, with as much heat as in today’s sea. My teeth chattered again. Tears pricked my eyes and I was grateful for the continual pelt of rain on my face to disguise my frustration. I wouldn’t call it hurt. No. Because that would imply I cared about him and … I sucked my top lip in between my teeth … and with him that was clearly pointless.
The cold, the wet, exhaustion—all three overwhelmed me. That was it. I’d had enough of Tremain. Why was I wasting my time being nice? He clearly didn’t give a jot about me or my life. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again. Just drive me home. Izzy, Greg and Lucas will be waiting. I’m out on a date tonight.’
He flinched. ‘Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you about that loser.’
‘What do you care?’ I said and threw my hands in the air. ‘Clearly my feelings are of no importance.’
He flinched again.
‘And thanks for the perspective. I’ve tried to be friendly. Put up with your rudeness. But you know what? I haven’t got the word “doormat” written across my forehead.’
‘No. Just “fool”, if you let my head chef anywhere near you.’
‘Too late,’ I said, whole body shivering now. ‘A romance is already on the cards.’
Urgh. Why did I say that?
A muscle twitched in his cheek and he stared for a moment. ‘Right then. We’d better get you back.’
I sighed. ‘Look, Tremain, I don’t want us to fall out, but …’ Ouch! I glanced down. One of my bare feet had stepped on a washed-up red rose. I bent down and held it out to him. ‘This is one of yours.’
He snatched it and stared at it for a moment, before gently throwing it back towards the incoming tide.
I sighed. Lowered my tone. ‘Perhaps if you talked about … whatever it was that ended badly.’
Without replying, he trudged on; didn’t even bother to pretend not to have heard my words.
We drove back to White Rocks in silence, the fan heater filling the vacuum that should have been filled with chat. At the reception area I jumped out of the van, slammed the door and half ran to the chalet, with half an hour to get ready before going back into Port Penny. Except … My heart sank at the prospect of the evening ahead, as I made my way in, even though faint rays of sunshine now shone through the windows. A note lay on the kitchen worktop. Izzy had got ready early and was at reception with Greg, having a pre-dinner cocktail—or, snog more like. I pictured Lucas’s smouldering face, tried to get excited, but at the moment all I could think about was wounded, infuriating, exasperating Tremain.
You see, a combination of strength and vulnerability had always been a killer combination for me. On the outside, he looked like a superhero, with his triangular torso and obvious strength … yet, like Superman, he revealed occasional glimpses of an insecure Clark Kent.
I hurried into my bedroom, changed into dry trousers and a T-shirt, with a cardigan, socks and my pumps and grabbed a waterproof that hadn’t been used for weeks. Despite the struggling sun, it was still raining. I glanced in the mirror. My hair hung is soaked twists. I shrugged and put up my hood before heading into the kitchen for a speedy glass of orange juice. My stomach rumbled as I went outside and locked up. I reckoned Tremain would still be outside, in the fresh air.
Really sorry. I can’t make tonight. Will explain later, I texted to Izzy and Lucas before heading down to reception building. Tremain’s van was now parked up. Kensa could be seen through the reception window, polishing the desk. I spotted Izzy, Greg and Lucas in Donuts & Daiquiris and, urgh, Lucas gazed out of the window at that moment, stared and then waved. He came to the door and headed outside.
‘Kate? Babe. I just got your text. What’s going on?’
‘Sorry, Lucas. Just …’
‘You look rough! I mean … What on earth has happened?’
No one ever said Poldark was chivalrous.
‘I ended up on the beach in Port Penny today—long story—and … and … saw someone in trouble. I won’t bore you with the whole saga, but, to be honest, I’m exhausted. I’ve just got back. All I want is some soup and an early night.’
‘Can I help with that,’ he said with a half-smirk.
‘No! I mean, thanks, but …’
He kissed me on the cheek. ‘No problem. But at least let me make you breakfast tomorrow morning.’
I smiled. ‘That’s becoming a bit of a habit.’
‘Do you think Izzy and Greg will mind if I still go out with them tonight? I’d love to quiz her about running her own business.’
‘Thinking of branching out on your own?’ My eyebrows raised.
‘Who knows what the next few weeks will bring. I’ve grown up knowing I can’t rely on anyone else.’ He swallowed hard and the light disappeared from his face for a minute.
‘No, of course Izzy won’t mind,’ I said. ‘Although with those two snogging, you might not get much conversation.’
He smiled and rolled his eyes. ‘Maybe over some bacon tomorrow you wouldn’t mind filling me in a bit more on detail of the Maddocks’ plans for next week. We had that staff meeting this morning but they might have told you some extra details that could prove useful to me. I’d like to make sure I’m helping with the relaunch as much as possible. It’s all our futures at stake.’
See, I thought to myself. Tremain was wrong. Lucas does have a heart. Tremain. I scoured the grounds filled with chalets ahead of me. Where could he be? Out in the open, probably, and the biggest expanse of land nearby was the golf course. I headed that way.
On reaching the edge of an overgrown putting green, I stopped dead. What was that noise? The wind had dropped and raspy, thick breathing wafted over to me. In the distance, I spotted a figure running as fast as he could, with a hoody over his head. He was shouting. Angry yells, bloodcurdling ones, in fact. I stepped back. Then he rested by a tree and punched the trunk several times, before shaking his hand. Again he ran, in circles, letting rip with his voice one more time. I squinted at his fists, ever so tightly curled. He changed direction and paused for a moment, clearly having seen me. He slumped to the ground and his hoody slipped off. I focused hard. Tremain?
Without thinking, I ran in his direction. Panting, I reached him and he stood up and looked at me to reveal those leaf-green eyes drinking me in.
‘Tremain. What’s the matter? You’re messing with my head.’
We looked at each other. His face kind of squished. My body felt compelled to feel the warmth from his. He stepped forwards and put his hands on my shoulders and kind of leant on me for a moment.
‘I want to help,’ I murmured, ‘but I’m so confused; don’t know where I stand. I had to come looking for you, even though I knew you might reject any sympathy or kindness. What were you talking about on the beach? A bad end? Blaming yourself?’
‘Someone died. Because of me. I let them down.’
‘Oh, Tremain,’ I mumbled, chest squeezing at the anguish in his eyes. Izzy was wrong. This man could not be a criminal. Goodness and sincerity emanated from his whole being. So, who had lost their life? A girlfriend perhaps, what with the red roses he threw into the sea.
He stared hard at me. I stared back, unable to break my gaze. He bent down. Our lips met. Oh so soft, at first, and then more persistent. My heart raced faster than ever. He must have been able to feel it against his pecs. My hands reached up and slid around his shoulders. I ran my fingers across that short hair, bursts of heat igniting places that had been sooo cold for such a long time. Urgently, he kissed me as I pushed against him and his mouth explored mine. Eyes closed, I sank into a dark, warm, exciting, pleasurable abyss.
‘Oh God,’ I gasped, as our kissing became more gentle and his lips trailed the curve of my neck. I leant up against him as hard as I could and wished my body would melt into his. Then … My phone rang. I opened my eyes. Reality returned. What was I doing? Most of the time Tremain treated me like an irritating girl next door. And then there was Lucas …
I stood back and pulled the phone from my waterproof pocket. I cleared my throat. Waited a few seconds, to catch my breath.
‘Izzy. Hi. No … I’m fine.’ And breathe. ‘I just didn’t feel up to it. Yes, later … Honestly. You have a good time.’
Tremain and I looked at each other. He sat down on the ground.
‘Running around … shouting … Why were you behaving like that?’ I sat down next to him and ignored the wetness of the grass. Ignored how my heart still beat as if it were accompanying a fast Scott Joplin ragtime song.
‘Dunno. Just made me feel better. No one ever walks up here. Didn’t think I’d have an audience.’ He grimaced.
‘Don’t you go all surly on me again.’
‘What about your date?’ he muttered. ‘You’ve cancelled it.’
‘Yes. I promised your mum that I’d keep an eye on your today and I intend to do as I said.’
Tremain turned to me and groaned. ‘I was hoping Mum had forgotten about today. She’s got enough on her plate at the moment—doesn’t need to be fretting about me.’ Dull eyes met mine. ‘What did she tell you—about today?’
‘Nothing. Just that it was the second anniversary of something bad that had happened.’
He shrugged. ‘Well, if that’s all this is—keeping me under surveillance for Mum’s sake—then consider you job done because I’m fine. I can cope and she doesn’t need the extra worry. OK?’ His eyes widened. ‘Please, Kate.’
‘Of course I’m not just here because of Kensa. Honestly …’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Are you determined to keep any potential friends at arm’s length for the rest of your life?’
‘I didn’t just then.’ He gave a small smile and stared into his lap. ‘Perhaps it’s safer, though. That way I don’t get hurt—and nor does anyone else.’
I took his hand and tenderly slotted my fingers in between his. ‘Listen. Something bad happened to me too, ten months ago. I’ve felt no hope at all for a long time. Very, very slowly the edge of the pain became blunter but a dull ache took its place that nothing would ease. However then I came away with Izzy to Port Penny and … it’s given me perspective. Perhaps you need a change of scenery? You could—I don’t know—go abroad once the holiday season is over.’
He snorted yet didn’t pull his hand away from mine. ‘Abroad? I’ve done enough travelling to last me a lifetime. I like it here. It’s familiar. No one takes any notice of me.’ He looked up. ‘So, ten months ago … ?’
My breathing quickened. With his eyes wide and fingers still in mine, somehow I felt unable to avoid the implied question.
‘My boyfriend. He—’
Right at that moment, my phone rang again. I wasn’t sure if I felt relief or disappointment. I’d taken the step to unfriend Johnny on Facebook. Perhaps now was the time to talk about exactly what happened.
‘Sorry,’ I muttered and pulled my mobile out of my waterproof’s pocket. ‘I’m Miss Popular tonight, for some reason. Hello … ?’ A few seconds later, I ended the call. ‘A cold caller. No, I don’t need solar panels.’
‘So … for whatever reason you aren’t with your boyfriend any more.’
‘Gets lonely sometimes, doesn’t it,’ I said, ‘not having anyone to just do nothing with? I mean, Izzy’s great for the cinema or a meal out, and for a heart-to-heart chat. But I miss having someone to chill alongside me, just lazing in front of the telly, not watching anything particular—I miss the familiarity. The closeness. The security.’
Tremain shrugged. ‘Not sure I’ve ever had that.’
Oh. No close relationship. So maybe what happened a couple of years ago wasn’t anything to do with a deceased girlfriend. But why the red roses? His lips pressed together in a firm line. I wouldn’t ask any more questions. Not tonight.
Tremain shook himself. ‘I’m guessing by the way you wolf down those all-day
breakfasts that a woman with your appetite is starving, after an afternoon on a rainy beach.’
‘Don’t be cheeky!’ I said. ‘But who could blame me? We haven’t even had lunch.’
He jumped up. ‘Come on then. Let’s go to the Rocky Roadhouse kitchen. I haven’t got the cooking skills of Lucas, but can make a mean omelette. They’ll go well with a couple of beers from the bar.’
‘Sounds like a date,’ I said and got up. ‘I mean, obviously it’s not, you see—’
For the first time today, Tremain laughed. ‘No … You’re definitely not my type. Too inconsiderate by far. Any woman with half a heart would have left me by the golf course to wallow in self-pity. Not … given me the best kiss I’ve had in a long time.’
My cheeks felt hot, a voice in my head begging for a repeat of that lip action. ‘I’ve spent months doing that,’ I said quietly.
‘What, kissing?’
I smiled. ‘No. Wallowing in self-pity. I tried to put a normal face on it. Ever punctual for work. Paid my bills. Still helped out my elderly neighbour and looked after next door’s kids whenever their babysitter let them down. I’ve been shopping. To the cinema. Laughed with customers. I’ve only really felt true to myself out on stage at a singing gig. There is no pretence there. And people who know me well have been able to tell inside, the hurt, it’s still raw. Yet just lately, they’ve prodded me into change … I’m so grateful I’ve finally seem to be waking up to the fact that life has to go on—and it’s up to me whether it does that in a miserable way or with fun.’
The wind tousled my damp hair. He tilted my head. ‘Glad to see that bruising from the orange juice glass is almost gone.’
The pulse of my heart rang in my ears.
‘And by the way,’ he said, eyes not leaving my face, ‘you give great hugs, Kate Golightly. Really. On the beach today … just now … it meant a lot; was just what I needed. I haven’t let anyone hug me like that for a long time.’ His voice broke. ‘Didn’t feel I deserved it.’ He swallowed and then looked at me, smiled and crooked his arm for me to slide mine into. Side by side, we walked back to reception, as if we we’d known each other for years.
Breakfast Under a Cornish Sun Page 14
