Meet Me at Beachcomber Bay: A delicious Cornish romance

by Jill Mansell

  ‘That colour suits you,’ she told him as he greeted her with a kiss. ‘Better than the orange.’

  ‘Ah, what can I say?’ He grinned. ‘You were right and I was wrong.’

  ‘I’m always right,’ said Clemency.

  Ronan turned to Belle. ‘My girlfriend is trying to give me a makeover. What she doesn’t know is I bought the orange shirt too.’

  It had been just over a fortnight now, and their ‘relationship’ was still going strong, essentially because Ronan had had neither the time nor the opportunity to meet someone else who might have caught his fancy. In fact he’d been going through an uncharacteristically dry spell for quite a while now. Clemency was glad; it meant they could maintain the pretence and carry on enjoying themselves, and it had put a very satisfying stop to all of Belle’s sly digs and smugness. Furthermore, it had been Belle’s idea that the four of them should get together for dinner this evening at the newly opened restaurant on Silver Street.

  And OK, it had seemed like a strange idea at first, but why not? If Sam and Belle were set to become a long-term couple, Clemency told herself, she was just going to have to get used to it.

  ‘Shall we head on down, then?’ said Belle. ‘Sam had an appointment an hour ago, so he’s meeting us there.’

  They left the Mermaid and began to make their way down the narrow, winding street. As they reached the first turn in the road, the sound of music drifted up from sea level. By the time they came to the second turn, the music and singing had grown louder. When they reached the final bend, where the road led down to the harbour and the shops along the seafront came into view, Clemency saw that the noise was being made by a lively group of buskers who’d taken up position against the harbour wall, across the street from Paddy’s Café.

  ‘Oh listen to that, they sound fantastic!’ She clapped her hands in time to the jaunty music. The band comprised a group of four men and a young woman performing an infectiously upbeat song about the joys of a rainy Cornish holiday. They were playing an eclectic assortment of instruments including a guitar, an accordion, a violin and a saxophone. As she sang, the girl thumped out an energetic beat on a red and silver drum slung around her neck. She had bright red dreadlocks, matching crimson lipstick and a killer smile, and was encouraging the audience to clap along.

  The rest of the band danced as they sang, a raggle-taggle collective, each with an individual style of their own.

  ‘God,’ said Belle, ‘look at the state of them. Talk about lowering the tone.’

  ‘I think they’re brilliant,’ Clemency exclaimed. ‘Look, everyone’s loving them! Come on, let’s go down there.’

  The band had gathered quite a crowd; there was a hat on the ground in front of them, and each time money was thrown into it, the band members let out a rousing cheer whilst carrying on playing. Small children were dancing joyfully, old people were nodding along, and everyone was smiling.

  Apart from Belle, who was grimacing as if a seagull had just pooed on her shoes.

  ‘But this is St Carys,’ she protested. ‘And they’re begging for money.’

  ‘They’re not begging,’ said Clemency. ‘They’re performing. No one has to give them money if they don’t want to.’

  ‘Except the one in the top hat would probably slit your throat if you didn’t,’ said Belle. ‘And that guy with the long black hair looks as if he’d give you nits.’

  ‘Hey, come on, loosen up.’ Ronan slid a teasing arm around her waist. ‘Have a little dance with me!’

  ‘Oh don’t!’ Belle wailed. ‘It’s not funny. If you encourage them, their friends will follow them down here. Before you know it, St Carys will turn into some scuzzy dumping ground for unwashed hippies!’

  Ronan looked amused. ‘Really?’

  Belle was outraged. ‘Yes, really. Someone needs to call the police so they can come over here right now and make them stop before—’

  ‘I can see Sam,’ Ronan interrupted and Clemency couldn’t help it; as always when she heard his name, her heart leapt into her mouth.

  But since it wouldn’t do to give herself away, she followed the direction of Ronan’s gaze and kept the excitement under control.

  Chapter 20

  Sam, below them and over to the right, was standing at the back of the crowd that had congregated in an ever-widening semicircle around the band of buskers. In contrast with the casually dressed holidaymakers, he was wearing a dark suit, a white shirt and a striped blue tie.

  Oh he looked so handsome, so smart. Like James Bond but better.

  Belle, who clearly thought so too, said with relief, ‘There he is. And he’s keeping an eye on them, thank God. Maybe he’ll report them to the police.’

  Even the way Sam stood was perfect. Clemency watched as he smiled at the sight of a small girl in pink dungarees hopping up and down in front of the band. The girl, seeing his smile, beamed and danced faster. And somewhere deep inside her, Clemency felt her ovaries go ping.

  He’d make a fantastic father.

  The violinist, spotting someone he knew in the crowd, let out a whoop and pointed his bow at them. Then the lead singer called out, ‘Hey!’ and beckoned to a person standing close to Sam.

  ‘Come on then.’ Belle was growing impatient. ‘Are we going down there?’

  ‘Hang on a second,’ said Clemency, because the little girl in the pink dungarees had threaded her way through the crowd and was now running over to Sam, grabbing his hand. And Sam was laughing and loosening his tie with his free hand as she pulled him towards the band … and it was becoming apparent that the person the band had recognised who was standing close to Sam was in fact Sam himself.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake,’ Belle howled. ‘What’s going on? What are they trying to do to him?’

  ‘I think they’re making him sing,’ said Ronan as a microphone was thrust into Sam’s hand.

  Clemency knew why her sister was so outraged. Belle had once been publicly humiliated at the circus by a clown who’d honked his horn in her ear and caused her to wet her knickers in fright. ‘But they can’t do that,’ Belle said furiously. ‘They just can’t.’

  Except Sam had already started, joining in and seamlessly continuing the song as the rest of the band stamped their feet and whooped with approval. The audience, amazed, began to cheer and applaud as the handsome businessman in the dark suit and tie sang along brilliantly with the other band members, simultaneously standing out and blending in. He had a fantastic voice, knew all the words and was moving to the music in perfect time.

  Best of all, Belle couldn’t have looked more stunned if he’d been singing naked.

  Worst of all, Clemency realised as they made their way down the street to where the band was performing, it had just made her love Sam Adams that little bit more.

  And when the song finally ended, for a brief moment he looked directly at her, and she hoped he couldn’t read her mind.

  Then everyone in the crowd was clapping wildly, the band members were hugging and high-fiving Sam, and Belle was saying in disbelief, ‘Am I having some kind of horrible dream here?’

  There were cries of More, more! but Sam smiled and shook his head, handing the microphone back to the lead singer and bending down to speak briefly to the small girl in dungarees, who flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘If he catches nits from the guy with long hair,’ Ronan murmured in Clemency’s ear, ‘let’s hope for all our sakes he doesn’t pass them on to Belle.’

  ‘I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.’ Belle’s tone was pained as they made their way along the Esplanade to the restaurant on Silver Street. ‘How did you know all the words to that song?’

  Sam was keeping a straight face. ‘I thought everyone knew the words.’

  ‘No one in the audience had ever heard that song before.’

  ‘Ah. Well in that case maybe it’s because I used to be a member of the band.’

  Belle pointed an index finger at him accusingly. �
��You see, I want to laugh, but I’m actually starting to think you might be serious.’

  ‘You might actually be right.’ Sam’s eyes glinted with amusement.

  ‘But that doesn’t make any sense!’ She was gazing at him in horror. ‘Really? I mean, really really?’

  ‘Afraid so,’ Sam said cheerfully. ‘So anyway, they’ve almost finished for the evening. I said I’d meet them later at the Mermaid. But it’s OK,’ he reassured Belle. ‘You don’t have to come along with me. I’ll be fine on my own.’

  When they’d been seated at the restaurant and served drinks, Clemency said, ‘Go on then, tell us everything.’

  ‘OK, the band is called Make Your Day and it was set up eight years ago by the girl with the red dreadlocks,’ said Sam. ‘Her name’s Ali and she was my sister-in-law. Sorry,’ he amended, ‘she still is my sister-in-law, because she’ll always be Lisa’s sister. She was also one of our bridesmaids when we got married.’

  ‘I hope she didn’t have red dreadlocks then,’ said Belle with a tinkly laugh.

  Sam shook his head. ‘No, they were blue for the wedding. And the band played at our reception. Anyway, the year before we got married, Lisa and I were just about to head off on a fortnight’s camping trip when Ali called us. Two members of the band had gone down with salmonella poisoning and she was desperate. So we cancelled our holiday, learnt the songs and joined the band for two weeks.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Clemency.

  ‘Heavens.’ Belle looked as if she were about to be dunked in a tank of cockroaches. ‘How … brave!’

  ‘It was one of the best times of my life.’ Sam was smiling at what were clearly fond memories. ‘We travelled along the south coast in their purple and silver tour bus. It was fantastic. Making people’s day, cheering them up, seeing little kids dancing along to the music and having a ball.’ He shrugged. ‘What’s not to like?’

  ‘Imagine living in a dirty old tour bus, though.’ Belle winced. ‘Weren’t you worried you might catch salmonella too?’

  Sam said, ‘The bus was clean. Ed and Tommy contracted salmonella after taking their mother out to a Michelin-starred restaurant on her birthday.’

  ‘But loads of places don’t allow busking.’ Belle swiftly changed tack. ‘It’s illegal. Didn’t you get arrested by the police?’

  ‘They’d generally just tell us to stop. Advise us to move along. We wrote a song for the occasion,’ Sam grinned, ‘called “Here Comes the Law”. We used to launch into it whenever we saw them coming towards us. It went: “Who are these handsome folk, do they want us to play more? Oh no oh no it’s time to go, these handsome folk are the law.” And then it went into the chorus: “Here comes the law, law, law … to give us what for …”’ He shrugged. ‘Well, it made people laugh. Them too, hopefully. They were only doing their job.’

  ‘I love every single thing about this story,’ said Ronan.

  At the front desk, the manager was informing a group of diners that he was terribly sorry but all the tables were taken and it was always advisable to make a booking in advance. Clemency jumped up and went over to the desk.

  Less than a minute later, she returned. ‘Come on, I’ve paid for our drinks. Those people are having our table and we’re going to the Mermaid.’

  ‘But … but I’m hungry,’ Belle protested.

  ‘They serve food at the Mermaid,’ Clemency said smoothly.

  Belle looked as if she’d just swallowed a wasp.

  Two hours later, the evening was in full swing. Ali and the rest of the band had arrived just a few minutes after they’d reached the Mermaid. Sam had introduced everyone to each other, then they’d all headed out on to the terrace and sat down together at one long trestle table to eat huge plates of either home-made lasagne or fried chicken and chips. It clearly wasn’t Belle’s idea of fine dining, but Clemency, watching her, saw that she was doing her best to pretend she didn’t mind.

  After they’d finished eating, everyone moved back inside. The band produced their instruments, because making music was what they loved most and did best, and an impromptu party began. Locals and tourists alike danced along to the songs sung with guests on the stage. Sam was persuaded to join the band once more, ‘Here Comes the Law’ proved to be the hit of the evening, and Clemency danced with Ronan whilst keeping a discreet eye on Belle, who was evidently still in a state of shock.

  ‘And that was my sister’s favourite song,’ Ali announced when the applause had died down after she and Sam had sung a stirring rendition of a song called ‘You and Me’. ‘I wrote it about the two of us before she met Sam. Her name was Lisa, we both loved her with all our hearts and she died three years ago. But she’ll never be forgotten.’ She reached for the bottle of beer on the table at the side of the stage and raised it. ‘Here’s to our beautiful girl Lisa. Thank you. OK, one more song and then we’ll take a break.’

  Five minutes later, Clemency was out on the terrace getting some fresh air when Ali joined her. ‘Hey. It’s been a good night, hasn’t it?’ Perching on the low wall, she kicked off her faded blue flip-flops. ‘I’m so glad we came to St Carys.’

  Clemency smiled at her. ‘Sam is too. Well, we all are.’

  ‘You think? Maybe not quite all.’ Ali nodded across the terrace to where Belle was on her phone. ‘When I was talking to your sister earlier, she was leaning away from me as if I might be contagious.’

  ‘Oh God, was she? I’m sorry. If it helps,’ said Clemency, ‘she sometimes does the same to me.’

  Ali looked amused. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse.’ Then her tone changed, grew serious. ‘Can I ask you a couple of questions?’

  Uh oh. What was this about? Clemency braced herself. ‘Fire away.’

  Chapter 21

  ‘I love Sam to bits. I want him to be happy again.’ Ali paused for a moment and gazed out over the ink-dark sea, then turned and looked directly at Clemency. ‘I mean, I really want him to be happy again. Will your sister make him happy?’

  Oof. No beating about the bush.

  ‘She likes him,’ Clemency said carefully. ‘A lot.’

  ‘Is she right for him, though? Are they suited to each other?’

  Clemency shrugged. ‘How can we ever know that?’

  ‘Come on, that’s the politician’s answer.’

  ‘She’s my sister. What do you expect me to say?’

  ‘So that means you’re going to be discreet.’ Ali tossed back her bright red dreadlocks. ‘The two of you aren’t a bit alike, are you?’

  ‘We’re stepsisters, not blood-related.’

  ‘I know. She told me. I just meant do you think they’re a perfect match? Because Belle’s pretty confident that she’s the one for Sam.’

  ‘Maybe she’s right.’

  ‘How about you?’ said Ali. ‘Do you like him?’

  ‘Me?’ Thank goodness it was getting dark. Praying she wasn’t blushing, Clemency said, ‘I’m with Ronan!’

  Ali’s eyes sparkled. ‘I know that too. I actually meant would you be happy if they stayed together?’

  Urgh, even more embarrassing. ‘I would. Of course I would.’

  ‘If they got married, that’d make you Sam’s next sister-in-law,’ said Ali.

  ‘Which means you and me would be sisters-in-law-in-law.’

  Ali laughed. ‘Fine by me. Maybe this time we’ll both be bridesmaids. If someone gets married twice, are you allowed to be their bridesmaid at both weddings?’

  ‘We’ll insist on it,’ said Clemency. ‘And our hair will have to match. What colour shall we have it?’

  ‘Oh I do like you,’ Ali exclaimed. ‘And I know I’ve had a few ciders and I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but I wish Sam was seeing you.’ She tilted her head sideways. ‘You don’t look like her, but you do kind of remind me of Lisa. Feels to me as if you’d make a much better couple.’

  Clemency felt her pulse quicken. What a mess this whole situation was. She saw over Ali’s shoulder that Belle had finished her phone
call and was making her way over.

  Touched, she said, ‘Thanks. I mean, it’s not going to happen. But I’ll take it as a compliment anyway.’

  ‘Honestly, this place is a joke,’ Belle announced. ‘Three taxi companies I’ve phoned now, and none of them can pick me up before midnight.’

  There were only three small taxi companies in St Carys. Belle was accustomed to flagging down black cabs in London, or using Uber to get picked up within minutes.

  ‘Don’t you want to stay?’ said Clemency.

  ‘I’ve got a migraine coming on. All this music is doing my head in. No offence,’ Belle added, turning to Ali, ‘but I’ve had enough of it for one night. I just want to go home.’

  Clemency thought for a moment. ‘Wait here. I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Thanks so much,’ said Belle as Ronan held the door open for her.

  ‘No problem.’ He waited until she was settled in the passenger seat before going round to the other side. Having not had anything to drink since a glass of wine at the restaurant, he’d agreed to drive Belle home. ‘My mum has migraine attacks, so I know what they’re like. Has your GP prescribed medication?’

  Belle shrugged as they pulled away from the kerb. ‘Oh, I haven’t been to the doctor – I’ll just take a couple of aspirin when I get back. To be honest, my feet are hurting more than my head. These shoes really pinch my toes.’

  The shoes also sported five-inch spike heels. Ronan smiled to himself. How many females would accept the offer of a lift home then brazenly admit they’d lied in order to get it? But that was Belle for you; if her shoes were pinching and she wanted to leave, she’d do or say whatever it took to make it happen.

  ‘You don’t have a headache, do you?’ He spoke without rancour.

  ‘I’d have had one if I’d stayed any longer listening to that racket.’ She grinned and gave him a playful nudge. ‘Hey, you can’t begrudge me a lift. I’ve saved you from it too.’

  The nudge reminded him that whilst she was nowhere near drunk, Belle had had enough alcohol to blur the edges. As he drove across St Carys, Ronan idly wondered about something that had first crossed his mind a couple of weeks ago.