CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cal’s drunk again. More pissed than last night or any night since I met him and that’s saying something.
And, oh, deep joy. There’s Mawgan.
Carrying my shoes, I pad across the damp lawn towards Cal who is heading for the shrubbery, probably for a pee. I hope it’s for a pee and not to find some secret stash of whisky he’s salted away.
‘Demi!’
Mawgan is heading straight for me, holding down the skirt of her mini, her heels sinking deep into the grass. I try to speed up but my own dress hobbles my legs.
‘Wait!’
By the time I untangle myself, Cal has vanished.
‘These bloody Louboutins. Andi told me they were too high but I couldn’t resist them.’
She points out her shoe so I can see the red sole then peers at my dress. ‘Nice dress. Did Cal buy you that?’
‘I can buy my own clothes.’
‘Really? I must say I was surprised to see you here. I didn’t know you were a friend of the family.’
‘I’m here as Cal’s guest.’
She snorts. ‘His guest? Hmm. That’s one way of describing it.’
‘Better than being his reject.’
I was determined not to let her get to me but the words slip out before I can stop them.
‘I’m sure you’ll be joining the scrapheap soon,’ she says, butter smooth. ‘But unlike me you won’t have anything left to fall back on. You may think he’s a hero but Cal is a washed-out loser who hasn’t a clue how to make a business a success. When he’s had enough of you, you’ll be out of Kilhallon so fast you won’t know what’s hit you and back on the streets. In every sense of the word.’
‘I’d rather be on the streets than turn into someone like you.’
‘If you mean a successful businesswoman, I’ll take it. You see, I know what I am, unlike you. You’re deluding yourself if you think Cal will carry you off on his white charger. Cal has only loved and will only ever love one woman: Isla Channing. And no matter what you do, you’ll always be the scraggy mongrel to her pedigree. A bit of rough when he’s drunk and doesn’t mind slumming it.’
‘You know what? It must cost you a fortune to look that cheap.’
She smirks. ‘You’ll see. Cal may act the man of the people but never forget he’s a Penwith. He’ll marry someone like Isla in the end.’
She turns her back and wobbles off, holding her skirt down.
I hate her. Not for being a cow: I’d have been disappointed if I hadn’t had a scrap with her. Not for being right about Cal. I don’t want to marry him; I want to make my own way in the world but I’d be lying if I said her taunts haven’t found a mark. Last night – and today – has showed me that Cal might want me for a quickie but he’s still crazy about Isla. So crazy, he has to get paralytic to dull the pain.
Robyn is on the other side of the garden, nodding to a couple on matching mobility scooters, decorated with ribbons. She spots me and stomps across the grass, looking amazing and quirky in a Guinevere-style dark emerald dress.
‘Thanks for giving me an excuse to get away from Auntie Alison and Uncle Trevor. They keep asking me when I’m “going to find a nice chap”.’ She mimes sticking her fingers down her throat.
‘Join the club. I’ve only just escaped doing something silly to Mawgan Cade.’
Robyn laughs. ‘Don’t talk to me about Mawgan. I’m sure she’s deliberately keeping Andi away from me. She must suspect there’s something going on between us.’
‘Is that the dress you saw in the Boho boutique in St Just?’
‘Yes. I went back and bought it in the end. You like?’
‘Looks fabulous on you.’
‘Thanks.’ She touches my dress. ‘You look incredible. Where did you get that from? Ghost?’
‘No, it’s vintage. From a stall at the fair in Helston. There was a leak in the cottage last night and my dress was soaked so I splurged on this.’
‘You look amazing in it, especially with the tux. Is it Cal’s?’
I nod. ‘He let me borrow it because I didn’t have time to dry my dress and everything else was dirty. We’ve been up most of the night because a tree came down on the house in the storm and we had to go out and secure the tarpaulin on the conversions. It’s the last thing Cal needs with the planning being turned down.’
‘I heard about that. Poor Cal. Does he know who objected yet?’
‘Some of the neighbours from the village. When he checked the council website, some of the people who complained were old friends of his father’s.’
‘Ex-friends now.’
‘He was mad as hell but hurt too. I don’t think he can understand why they turned on him. He’s threatened to go and have a word with them all individually but I told him it wasn’t a good idea.’
‘No. The last thing he wants is to be accused of intimidating people. What will you do now?’
‘He’s going to appeal though he can’t afford it but we’re not going to give up. No way.’
Robyn raises her eyebrows. ‘Wow. I can see that. Cal’s lucky to have you.’
‘I’m not so sure he agrees.’ I think back to the night before and our almost sex. It was drunken and silly and probably a very bad idea but it most definitely wasn’t kind sex. He really wanted me.
My eyes seek him out among a group of glamorous people who must belong to Isla’s crew and cast. Cal looks so hot he could start a grass fire. A cool gust makes me pull the tux tighter around me. I swear it still smells of Cal’s aftershave, that and horse.
‘Your eyes have gone all sparkly. In fact you’ve gone all sparkly. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’ Robyn has a sly look on her face.
Horrified, I shake my head. ‘No. I’d never be that stupid. He still loves Isla.’
‘Maybe he does. Maybe he always will, but that doesn’t mean he can’t love anyone else. It doesn’t mean there’s no room for someone else.’
‘I don’t want to fit into the space that’s left by someone else. Even someone as amazing as Isla.’
‘Then unless you find someone who’s never loved before, you may always be alone, how do you know you’d be second best? Cal knows Isla is gone and now, I’m not sure he’d have her back. He may love her, yes, but he loves the Isla he knew before he went away. The one who hadn’t abandoned him and fallen for Luke. Isla is tarnished for him now and I think he was always in love with the idea of her, rather than her. She’s flawed now, flawed and human.’
‘Flawed?’ I laugh. ‘Unlike me.’ She hugs me.
‘You don’t have to pretend to be someone else, you’re good enough for Cal, just the way you are. Too good.’
Robyn bites her lip as Andi joins Mawgan by the gazebo. She keeps glancing around her nervously, obviously looking for Robyn.
‘How’s Andi?’
‘I daren’t even speak to her,’ Robyn says miserably. ‘I’m afraid of what I might do and she won’t speak to me because she’s angry at our families – and me. She thinks we’re both being cowardly.’
‘No one should be kept apart if they love each other.’
‘I know but neither of us have any money if we did decide to go public and live together. Dad would cut off my allowance and God knows what the Cades would do to Andi.’
‘Maybe Cal could help you.’
‘Cal? He won’t want to get involved and I don’t want him to. He’s got enough trouble with the business and Mawgan as it is. She hates him.’
‘I’ve worked that out. I can’t stand the thought of you being unhappy because some people are stupid and ignorant. Don’t give up on Andi. Why not bring her round to Kilhallon? Cal won’t mind and you know, I’m sure he could find you somewhere to live, if we asked him.’
‘Yeah. Maybe. But Mawgan and my dad could still make life incredibly difficult for Andi, mainly. I want to be with her so much but I’m not sure I’m that brave; not yet. I want to risk everything for her. That’s what real love is, isn’t it?’
Andi spots us and her pale face breaks into a smile.
I don’t know how to reply to Robyn because I’m not sure I know what real love is and I feel completely powerless to do anything for them. ‘You know where I am if you want to talk,’ I say, helping the only way I can. ‘At least bring her round to Kilhallon or my place for dinner. No one will find out.’
‘Thanks. I’ll think about it.’
Who am I, I think, urging her to be honest and brave while I won’t even admit to her, or to myself, how I feel about Cal? He’s talking to someone by the fountain. He catches sight of me and comes over. I think of walking off in the opposite direction but decide to stand my ground.
‘Has someone upset you?’ His brow creases in concern.
‘There were one or two people being stupid but it takes more than snarky gossip to upset me.’
‘One or two? Like who?’ he asks sharply.
I shrug but he catches me glancing over at Mawgan, sharing a cocktail with some bloke from the local council.
He laughs. ‘I thought you had more sense than to let Mawgan get to you.’
‘She’s a nasty piece of work. I can stand so much but then I lose my temper. It’s allowed, isn’t it? You’re not exactly Mr Zen Calm yourself.’
‘No, I’m absolutely fine.’ He tosses back his whisky. ‘More than fine, in fact.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
He taps his nose. ‘That’d be telling.’
‘Cal Penwith. If you don’t tell me what you look so smug about I will hit you right in the middle of this party and then everyone here will be delighted that I’ve lived up to what they think of me; that you dragged me off the streets.’
‘I don’t give a toss what they say but if I hear anyone talking like that, they’ll have me to answer to.’ He sways a little and I don’t fancy his chances of fighting his way out of a paper bag in this state.
‘Then tell me.’
‘Patterson …’ he whispers in my ear with a broad grin. ‘Dave Patterson says he’ll go into partnership with me at Kilhallon. Not a half-share, of course, but he’s prepared to back me. With his support, the additional work I want to do can go ahead.’
‘Providing we win the planning appeal.’
He waves his hand airily. ‘We will.’
I smile but inside I’m worried. His eyes aren’t focusing that well. ‘Shall I ask the caterers to make you a coffee?’
‘Why would I want a coffee?’
‘Because if you have any more booze, I might have to roll you home like a barrel and tomorrow we’ve got work to do. Kilhallon needs us, remember?’
He hesitates, and then nods. ‘True.’
Mawgan watches us from the terrace. She catches my eye and raises a glass to us but I get the distinct feeling she isn’t wishing us well.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
‘Cal. It’s almost dark. We’d better go home.’
Ignoring my plea, Cal hangs onto my arm as we say goodbye to Luke and Isla. Most people have moved inside the house now and I’ve been trying to persuade him to leave with me for the past half-hour. I’m not worried about going home on my own but he’s in no state to make it back to Kilhallon alone.
Isla nibbles her lip anxiously. ‘Shall we call you a cab?’
‘Nah. WhadoIneedacab for? I can walk. Demi knosh the way home and she can carry me if she has to.’
Smiling, Luke shakes his head. ‘Man, let’s call you a taxi. You’ll never get home in this state.’
Cal flails his arm at Luke who ducks. ‘I’m fine. Yoush worry about yourshelves tonight, eh? You know what I mean.’
‘I’ll get one of the catering staff to phone the taxi firm,’ Isla says firmly.
‘No need. I’m leaving. Bye.’ He blows a big kiss to Luke and Isla and calls to me. ‘Come on, Demi. Time to leave the lovers to it.’ He taps his nose, misses it and almost pokes himself in the eye. ‘Don’t want to play gooshberry.’
‘Cal, wait! You can barely walk,’ Isla calls but Luke pulls her back.
‘Leave him. He’ll be OK. It’s Cal, he has nine lives, remember?’
‘Yes, but he’s already used up eight of them!’
‘I’ll take care of him,’ I say as Cal steers a wobbly course between the guests and the antique furniture in the hall, slurring his goodbyes. ‘I’ll be back for the Land Rover tomorrow afternoon when he’s sobered up.’
‘Be careful on the cliffs,’ says Isla.
Luke laughs softly. ‘Come on, they are adults, Isla, and we need to say our goodbyes.’
‘Luke’s booked us into a hotel near Land’s End before we catch the plane to Scilly tomorrow. It was a lovely surprise.’
‘She works too hard and we both needed a break.’ Luke kisses her. ‘I can’t wait to have her all to myself for a few days.’
‘Sounds fab,’ I say, relieved that Cal can’t hear his remark.
Luke steers her away while I struggle back into my trainers and hurry out of the door after Cal, holding my dress above my ankles to avoid it dragging in the gravel. For a drunk, he’s fast. By road, Kilhallon House is ten minutes from Bosinney, but by the coast path at midnight it will take four times as long and I’m not exactly wearing the ideal hiking outfit. But it’s the time of year when it never gets truly dark and there’s a clear sky and the full moon to light our way.
Not long after we’ve left Bosinney and its grounds behind, the cliff-top moorland opens up and the broken chimney stack of the tin mine comes into view. Tonight it’s a sinister black stump against the dark-blue sky, and an owl hoots from somewhere inside the broken shell of the engine house. Cal meanders down the cliff path to Kilhallon Cove. It’s a miracle he hasn’t fallen over.
‘Slow down!’ I shout, my dress in one hand. I had to leave my heels in the Land Rover.
He turns. ‘Come on, Demi. We’ll never get home at this rate!’
‘I’ve been trying to get you home for the past hour and you should try climbing down here in this dress.’
‘I’ve told you that dress wouldn’t suit me,’ he slurs then blunders on.
The path drops us down at the top of the small strand of beach that’s left at high tide. Sand and sea are silvery in the moonlight and the tang of seaweed fills the air. The surf thunders up the shingle and sand, throwing spray into the air. It’s still rough after the storm, and debris washed up by the ocean litters the cove.
I pull the tux collar up and clutch the lapels together.
Cal stands on a rock, swaying slightly and staring out across the sea. Pebbles are bleached white in the moonlight and the stars prick the skies.
He pulls off a boot.
‘Just what d’you think you’re doing?’
‘Going for a swim.’
‘Don’t be stupid. It’s freezing.’
He holds his arms wide as if to embrace the sky and the cove. ‘Come with me. Wimp.’
‘No. There’s a big swell running and you know there are rips when the tide’s on the turn.’
‘I know thish cove. I know what I’m doing.’
‘Yeah. Trying to kill yourself.’
He jumps off the rock, drops his jeans and kicks them off, along with his boxers. His bottom is almost as white as the pebbles in the moonlight.
I shove my hands through my hair in despair as he wades in deeper. Then I hear a noise, sharp and echoing around the cove.
‘Mitch?’
The barks grow louder and a dark shape comes hurtling down the path and leaps onto the sand.
‘It’s Mitch! What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in the cottage with Nina!’
Cal is waist deep in the water, jumping over the waves, shouting and laughing. Mitch bounds down the beach, barking wildly.
‘Stop, boy!’
He never listens to me and he races into the waves.
Cal stops swimming and shouts above the waves. ‘Mitch?’
‘He must have escaped from the cottage!’
Mitch swims towards
Cal, ignoring me. It’s all a game to him.
‘Demi!’ Cal shouts before being swallowed up by a wave.
‘Come back! Both of you, you stupid stupid idiots!’
There’s a moment, when a big wave breaks over the rocks at the side of the cove, when I think I’ve lost both of them, but then they pop up again. Cal spluttering and Mitch whimpering.
I make a decision. Ripping off the tux, I run towards the surf.
It took about a minute to wonder why I ever thought this was a good idea. The cold embraced me and tightened its grip, squeezing the breath from my body. When I first learned to surf as a boy, I remember the instructors telling me that the sea off Cornwall is almost as cold in June as it is in December. But there’s one thing, if I drown, at least I’ll be sober.
I was going to turn back, swim to the shore but then I heard barks. Loud barks and I saw that bloody stupid animal jump into the water after me. I tried to shout at him to go back but all I got was a mouth full of saltwater that burned my throat.
Demi is shouting too. I hear her just as the next wave lifts me up and tosses me forward, closer to the rocks at the side of the cove.
And Mitch is still swimming to me, frantically.
I strike out towards him but my arms feel like they’re made of cotton wool. The booze, of course, and being up half the night repairing a roof. I’m weak, pathetic, this is justice. Demi didn’t deserve the way I behaved at the party: the moodiness, the sarcasm, the arse that I was – am.
‘Cal!’
‘No! Get back!’
My shout is cut off by another mouthful of seawater. Mitch paddles towards me but a wave slams into me from the side. I’m clawing at water, my mouth pressed shut, my eyes stinging in a maelstrom of darkness. I’ve wiped out many times, years ago when I surfed. I even surfed when I was high and wasted a few times but that was a long time ago.
Now I’m weak and washed out. Washed up.
‘Mitch!’
When I pop up, spluttering and gasping, Demi stands waist deep screaming at me. Mitch has been carried by a wave closer to the rocks, a hairy cork bobbing up and down.
‘Cal! Look out!’
A great white wall of foam hangs above me. I duck under the surface and curl up as the wave thunders down. I’m in a great giant concrete mixer. I don’t know which way is up or down and the water is black and green and angry with me. Then there’s fresh air again and I gulp, but only suck down stinging saltwater as another wave crashes down on me, hurling me against the rocks.
Summer at the Cornish Cafe Page 19
