She glared at him. ‘That’s not a thing! You just made it up.’
‘Surfers are very honourable,’ Ben said, trying his hardest to look wounded. ‘I really won’t tell anyone.’
Gina stared at her foot for a moment and then sighed. ‘I’ll know if you do,’ she warned. ‘Come on, let’s get it over with.’
In the end, the journey was surprisingly smooth; only Gina’s dignity was bruised and that was soothed the moment Ben set her down inside her own apartment.
‘First-aid kit?’ he asked.
‘In the bathroom, under the sink,’ she replied.
Ben worked with practised efficiency, cleansing and then dressing Gina’s foot with a skill that would have put a nurse to shame. ‘You’ve done this before,’ Gina said, watching him wrap cool white bandages over the pristine dressing.
He pulled a face. ‘Once or twice. Like I said, cuts and grazes are all part of being a surfer. I’ve seen friends lose teeth when they’ve collided with their own boards – it’s not a sport for the faint-hearted.’
Helping her up, he offered her his arm once again. ‘Why don’t you get changed while I find you some painkillers?’
It felt good to be out of the wetsuit. Gina did her best to wash the worst of the sand and salt away – she needed a shower or a bath to do the job properly but she knew both were a bad idea while her injury was still bleeding; the heat would only make things worse. Once he’d settled her onto the sofa, with her leg elevated, Ben handed her a glass of water with two ibuprofen.
‘Mind if I get changed too?’ he asked. ‘I’ve got some clean clothes in the car.’
Gina lay back against the sofa and closed her eyes. ‘No problem. I’ll be here when you’ve finished.’
When she woke an hour later, she found Ben had been busy. Not only had he called Nonno to explain what had happened and let him know Gina would be off her feet for a few days but he’d cleared away the cereal bowl from her hurried breakfast before she’d left that morning and made them both steaming mugs of tea.
‘You really are amazing,’ she said, smiling as he passed her one.
‘I’m not – I’m being a friend,’ Ben said, then paused. ‘So, since I can’t very well abandon you here on your own all day, what movie do you want to watch?’
She frowned. ‘Don’t you need to go to work?’
‘Not today,’ he replied. ‘Since it’s practically my fault you’re injured, it’s only right that I spend the day looking after you.’
The warm look he gave her made her own cheeks feel rosy and she felt a rush of affection. She couldn’t imagine Max taking a day off to nurse her through anything, even before they’d hit crisis point.
‘It was an accident,’ she reminded him.
‘One you wouldn’t have had if I hadn’t dragged you to the beach,’ he said. ‘So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’
‘Well in that case, I’ve got a treat for you,’ she said, reaching for the TV remote control. ‘Have you ever seen a movie called Some Like it Hot?’
‘That was excellent,’ Ben announced as the end credits rolled. ‘Jack Lemmon was incredible – so funny.’
Gina smiled. ‘We’re going to be showing it at the Palace next month,’ she told him. ‘Cross-dressing is optional, of course.’
‘That sounds a lot like a gauntlet being slammed down,’ he replied, his gaze enthusiastic. ‘One I don’t think I’m going to be able to resist.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ Gina said, delighted. ‘I have high hopes for this screening – it could be the best one yet.’
‘Count me in,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what Polwhipple is going to do for fun when you go back to London, Gina.’
‘You’ll manage,’ she said, glancing away.
Ben cleared his throat. ‘Actually, I might not have to. I’ve – erm – been offered a job somewhere else. In London, to be exact.’
Gina felt her forehead crease. ‘What kind of a job? Where in London?’
‘Putney,’ he said. ‘An Elizabethan manor house that’s been taken over by the National Trust. They say it’s almost derelict and they’re assembling a team of experts to help restore it, starting in September.’
Her frown deepened. It would be very strange knowing Ben was living and working in London; he was part of her Polwhipple life. She wasn’t at all sure where – or if – he’d fit into her other life. ‘That’s great,’ she said, doing her best to sound encouraging.
Ben raised his shoulders in a shrug. ‘I haven’t said I’ll do it yet.’ He glanced across but didn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘It sort of depends on what you plan to do.’
‘Me?’ Gina repeated, even though she suspected she knew what his answer would be. ‘What’s it got to do with me?’
‘I know things have gone pretty well at the dairy,’ Ben began. ‘And obviously, you’ve revitalised the Palace – the screenings you’ve held have been a huge success. In fact, it wouldn’t be a total surprise if you stuck around.’
An image of Ferdie in his dairy popped into Gina’s head. If he went ahead and expanded the business to include the shop in Newquay, he’d need her help even more than he had when she’d first arrived. And then she thought of Max; unhappy Max who said he missed her and wanted her to come home. She sighed. ‘I don’t think I can stay, Ben. I’ve already stayed longer than I planned and my life is in London.’
He nodded. ‘That’s what I thought you’d say. So do you think Max would mind you showing me around the city, if I took this job?’
Max would blow a fuse, Gina thought, but she would find it much easier to leave Cornwall behind if she knew Ben was going to be living in London too. ‘No,’ she said, crossing her fingers where he couldn’t see. ‘That wouldn’t be a problem. But what about Polwhipple station? Don’t you want to enjoy it once the line re-opens?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘But I’ve finished restoring it now and the National Trust place is a great opportunity. I’m always up for a new challenge.’
Gina smiled. ‘It sounds amazing – of course you should do it. And on a purely selfish note, it means I get to hang out with you more, which can only be a good thing.’
She didn’t think Max would see it like that, but the only way she could make him happy would be to promise never to see Ben again. And that wasn’t something Gina was prepared to do.
She called Max that evening, telling herself it wasn’t a guilty conscience that made her pick up the phone. Usually when she rang in the evening, she caught him out for drinks or dinner with business associates so she was slightly taken aback when he answered with no background noise to muffle his voice.
‘Don’t tell me you’re at home,’ she said, once they’d said hello. ‘Wonders will never cease.’
He didn’t laugh. ‘I know you think my life is one long party but there is more to me than that,’ he said and Gina cringed at the coldness of his tone. ‘Like I told you last time you were here, I’m growing up.’
He had told her that, she recalled, and a few days later, he’d proposed. She still remembered the sense of unreality that had settled over her when she’d found the diamond ring nestled among the after-dinner chocolates. She glanced towards her bedroom, where the ring now lay in her jewellery box. Would they ever get back to how things had been that night? Did she want to?
‘It’s nice to be able to hear you properly for once,’ she said and instantly regretted the final two words.
There was a brief pause. ‘You too,’ Max said gruffly.
‘So, how are things with you?’ she asked and listened as he talked about business deals and clients whose names were unfamiliar. Had she ever been interested in this stuff, she wondered, or was it the distance that made it all seem so samey?
Forcing herself to tune back in, she took a deep breath. ‘But what have you been up to apart from work?’ she cut in, midway through a story about a property deal that had fallen through. ‘What have you done for fun?’
Max fell silent
. ‘I played squash with James Wendover yesterday,’ he said after a moment’s thought.
Gina raised her eyebrows. ‘Isn’t he one of your financiers?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And did you let him win, to keep him sweet?’
Max didn’t reply.
‘Then it doesn’t count as fun,’ Gina said firmly. ‘It’s still work. What else?’
‘I visited my parents at the weekend,’ he said. ‘They send their love.’
Gina hesitated. Was that meant to be a dig? She and Max had been meant to go and visit his parents together, to tell them about the engagement. That was unlikely to ever happen now.
‘Did you – you didn’t tell them about the engagement, did you?’
Max let out a heavy sigh. ‘No, of course not. What’s the point in getting their hopes up? Let’s be honest, there’s more chance of hell freezing over than there is of us setting a date.’
Now it was Gina’s turn to stay silent. He sounded so angry.
Max sighed again. ‘I’m sorry, that was out of order. It’s just hard to sort all this out when you’re so far away, Gina.’
She closed her eyes. ‘I know.’
‘Tell me what you’ve been doing,’ Max said, and she could tell he was making an effort.
She thought carefully before answering. She couldn’t talk about her injured foot, because he would want to know how it had happened and that would mean mentioning Ben, which would cause him to explode. She didn’t dare tell him that Ferdie was considering expanding Ferrelli’s – that might make Max question her commitment to leaving Polwhipple. But she could talk about the Some Like it Hot screening, she mused – nothing to land her in hot water there.
‘Sounds great,’ Max said, once she’d finished describing her plans. ‘I might see if I can sneak away and come along. If you want me to.’
‘Please do,’ Gina said. ‘I’ll save you a VIP slot at one of the speakeasy tables. You haven’t seen the place since we finished the refurbishment – I think you’re going to love it.’
‘I wouldn’t say love it,’ Max said in a dry voice. ‘You know how I feel about the cinema.’
She did; Max hated the cinema and had never taken her on a date to see a film, something her friends found hard to believe. It hadn’t bothered Gina for a long time but now his aversion to films was something else to trouble her, another warning sign. Polwhipple’s cinema had become such a big part of her life in recent months and Max had always stayed on the periphery.
‘But the Palace was a magnificent building before the refurbishment,’ Max went on. ‘I bet it’s even more impressive now.’
Gina smiled, grateful he was making an effort to appreciate the hard work that had gone into the project. ‘I think it is,’ she said, picturing the Art Deco swirls Ben had carefully restored in the screening room and the new seats they’d sourced together. ‘A lot of love has gone into bringing the Palace back to glory.’
‘I know,’ Max said. Silence grew, making Gina wonder if he resented how much care she’d lavished on the cinema. He cleared his throat. ‘And how’s Gorran doing? Are his finances less tumultuous now?’
Gina shifted uncomfortably; the cinema owner had asked her not to discuss his money worries with anyone else. But this was Max, she told herself; who among his social and business circles was he going to tell? Who would care?
‘I hope so,’ she said, keeping her tone as natural as she could. ‘But with Gorran it’s hard to tell. He always looks like—’
‘He’s down to his last slice of bread?’ Max interrupted in a sardonic voice.
‘He’s lost a fight with a hairbrush, I was going to say,’ Gina finished. She tried to ignore the little spark of annoyance growing inside of her; did he always have to be so disparaging about anything to do with Polwhipple? ‘But Gorran knows a lot more than any of us about keeping the Palace going.’
‘You’re right,’ Max said, almost immediately. ‘He’s not a complete buffoon. Just incompetent where money is involved, which isn’t the best trait in an employer.’
Something about his tone caught Gina’s attention. A few weeks earlier, Gorran had berated her for telling Rose Arundell about his personal financial affairs. Gina hadn’t told Rose, and Ben swore he hadn’t breathed a word. It was a mystery Gina hadn’t managed to get to the bottom of and now another suspicion had occurred to her. Max had known exactly why they’d had to arrange an emergency screening; Gina had confided in him about Gorran’s money troubles. Could it have been Max who shared Gorran’s secret with Rose? They did know each other, after all . . .
Gina shook the thought away. I’ve been watching too many Jason Bourne movies, she decided. ‘It was just a one-off, Max,’ she said, fighting her sense of unease. ‘He’s doing much better now the Palace has re-opened.’
The conversation started to dry up but it was Max who took the initiative and ended the call. Gina sat gazing at her phone for a few long moments after they’d finished talking, then struggled to her feet and hobbled across the room, using the furniture as impromptu crutches. Ben was right; surfing was a good workout. What she needed was a bath to soak away the ache of her muscles and nothing, not even a heavily bandaged foot, was going to stop her.
Chapter Four
On the following Monday afternoon, Gina and Ferdie headed over to Newquay. The empty shop Ferdie had heard about was in prime position, right on the harbour-front. It had clearly been a hairdresser’s in its previous life: Gina could see the sinks on one side and long mirrors that lined the other wall. The décor was dingy and a little tired but even so, it had potential and its most important attribute was its location; the busy harbour was thronging with tourists. Only Fistral Beach would be more perfect and Gina knew there was at least one ice-cream shop there already.
‘What do you think?’ she asked Ferdie as they explored the inside of the shop.
He grunted. ‘There’s not enough room to swing a cat in that kitchen – we couldn’t make gelato here. We’d have to increase production in the main dairy and transport it across.’
‘But it’s full of possibilities,’ she said. ‘Imagine a long counter over there, filled with Napoli pans of the famous Ferrelli’s flavours, and a service window like the one at the Palace so not all the customers have to come inside. There’d be room for some booths along this wall, with a few tables and chairs just here and some more on the pavement.’ She turned to Nonno, her enthusiasm bubbling over. ‘We could serve coffee with Nonna’s biscotti, and milkshakes and sundaes. It could be amazing.’
Ferdie turned on his crutches and gazed around, as though seeing through her eyes. ‘Perhaps. It sounds like a lot of work.’
‘Initially, yes,’ Gina agreed. ‘But you could bring in a project manager to handle the shop fitting. And you could promote Manda – I bet she’d jump at the chance to run this place for you.’
‘We’d need more flavours,’ he said.
Gina spread her hands wide, thinking of her grandmother’s thick book of handwritten recipes. ‘Nonna has plenty of ideas – she’d be happy to share them with you if you ask her. You could design a whole new range, especially for this shop.’ She waved a hand at the window, at the crowds of tourists milling around the harbour. ‘They’d lap it up.’
Now Ferdie fixed her with a direct look, his salt-and-pepper eyebrows bristling together. ‘I can’t do it alone, Gina. Will you help?’
She gazed at him, some of her enthusiasm fading. She’d half-suspected this was coming. ‘You know I’d love to, Nonno.’ She took a deep breath and ploughed on. ‘But I can’t keep working for free – I need to earn a living. And then there’s Max—’
‘So become part of the business,’ he interrupted. ‘Not an employee – a partner, with a proper salary. You’ve done so much to help that it’s only right you are rewarded.’
Gina gazed at him, torn between delight that he valued her contribution so much and anxiety over her relationship. ‘But what about Max? Being in Polwhippl
e has put a real strain on us.’
Ferdie frowned. ‘No one is saying you have to be here every day. Go back to London if you need to, and manage things from there.’
Her head began to whirl. Could it work? Could she help to expand the Ferrelli’s empire at a distance? ‘I can’t make gelato in London,’ she pointed out. ‘And you’re going to need a lot more of that – how will you cope with the increased demand?’
‘I’ll employ someone else,’ he suggested. ‘Train them up. Maybe I could get one of those apprentices I’ve heard so much about at the Rotary Club.’
‘I don’t know,’ Gina said. ‘I mean, of course you can train some new staff and even take on an apprentice. I just don’t know whether I can give you what you need.’
Ferdie came towards her. ‘Don’t decide now – just think about it. And if you decide you can’t do it, there’ll be no hard feelings.’
His smile was so kind that Gina felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes. He was doing this for her, to give her a reason to stay in Polwhipple if she wanted to and while she didn’t suppose that was his only motivation, it was still a generous thing for him to offer. And he was right; he couldn’t do it on his own.
‘Okay, I’ll think about it,’ she said, returning his smile. ‘I’m sure we can work something out.’
‘That’s my girl,’ Ferdie said, patting her hand. ‘Now, why don’t we take a walk over to the beach while we’re here? It can’t hurt to check out the competition, no?’
Gina laughed, grateful the cut on her foot was so much better. ‘And you say Nonna is ruthless . . .’
‘I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a flapper.’
Carrie stepped out from behind the curtain of the changing room in Carrie’s Attic and gestured at the tassel-covered black dress she wore. ‘Did these women even have hips?’
Gina smiled. It was seven o’clock on Wednesday evening and they were trying on their outfits for Friday’s murder mystery evening. ‘I think it looks great.’
‘No, yours looks great,’ Carrie said gloomily, eyeing Gina’s sequined, drop-waisted dress with envy. ‘Mine looks like two hippos got tangled up in a lampshade factory.’
The Picture House by the Sea Page 28
