by Amanda James
4
It is ridiculous how much I’ve missed Cornwall, Helena and Adam. I was only away one night, for goodness’ sake, but now I’ve been back a couple of days in my house on the cliff. There’s a whiff of spring in the salt air, and all is right with the world. From my balcony I can see a few early surfers bobbing on the swell and I decide on a brisk walk. After that, a quick spot of housework and then cracking on with my book will be the plan for the day. I’m going to Helena’s for tea too, so it’s going to be a good day. Sometimes I just know when things are going to go well – there’s a light feeling in my chest.
Back from my walk, I’m dusting the coffee table when the doorbell rings. ‘Robert? What a lovely surprise.’ I smile and usher one of Adam’s oldest friends, who is also our accountant, inside, and lead the way to the kitchen. It isn’t really a lovely surprise, because I want to write, but mainly because I clocked the serious look on his face when I opened the door. ‘Tea, coffee?’
‘We might need something stronger.’ Robert’s forehead is a deep furrow and he sits at the kitchen table. ‘Sit down, Sam.’
I sit… collapse more like, as his grave tone makes jelly of my legs. I look at his sandy hair, stuck up at one side because of the stiff breeze he’s endured while waiting for me to answer the door, and he self-consciously smooths it and straightens his tie. ‘What is it, Rob? Just tell me.’
‘I told you that Adam had left you comfortably off…’
I don’t like the sound of this. Robert had handled all our accounts for years and he’d even organised the paying of the funeral expenses. That meant I hadn’t had to lift a finger and couldn’t even say what bloody accounts we had. Adam had organised all that, I’d no interest in it. Everything was paid for by standing order and I just got money out of the ATM as I needed it. Wrapping my arms around my body, I nod. ‘Yes, you did. You said I had near on a hundred thousand in the bank…’
‘You did have, but Adam…’ Robert sighs and stares out at the ocean.
A chill creeps up my spine. ‘Adam what?’
‘Adam made me promise not to tell you, but he invested in a few luxury holiday cottages, down near Fistral in Newquay. He hadn’t bought them, just put some money in for a short while to help a business colleague buy them. They made a decent return in the first year and he put the money in a separate account, so you wouldn’t know about it. He was going to buy a business for when he retired – you know him. He couldn’t have just sat on his arse. This account was the one that you had most of the hundred grand in.’
My heart thumps inside my chest and my stomach swims with nausea. ‘But I thought that was the money left from his parents’ savings…’
‘No. That’s gone.’ I open my mouth to ask where it went, but he hurries on. ‘He was going to tell you about the money he’d made when the time was right. It was all going to be a wonderful surprise. Anyway, what I didn’t know until the other day was that he’d heard about these other cottages, he had contacts through being an architect, everyone knows everyone in the building business, and he decided he’d put a hefty deposit down on two… huge actually… with a view to buy them by mortgage. You’re mortgage free on this place and so… it should have been fine because of his earnings. That was going to be a surprise too, I expect.’
‘Is the deposit where his parents’ savings went?’
Robert gives a quick nod. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘This is nuts. I never imagined he’d do something like that without telling me.’ Robert sighs and shoves his hands through his hair. ‘Oh my God…’ The penny starts to drop, and a scream builds.
‘As I said, it should have all been fine. But, of course, he died, and the company sent a demand for the mortgage default payments. He didn’t pay, how could he? There had been a direct debit set up but… I haven’t checked that account since the funeral though. Why would I? I spoke to them, but there was nothing I could do. He lost the deposit and the properties. I only found out when they tracked me down last week. I have been wondering how to tell you ever since.’
This isn’t going in. It isn’t making sense. ‘I don’t understand why there wasn’t any money left in the account. If there was a hundred thousand in there after the funeral six months ago, there should still have been enough to cover the mortgage payments by direct debit?’
Robert shakes his head and his jaw tightens. ‘There should have been, but… I don’t know how to tell you this.’ I just stare at him, at his funeral-sad face. ‘The thing is, the rest of it went on the stock market and the investment bombed.’
I hear what he’s saying but my brain is refusing to grasp it. ‘How could he invest money in anything after he’d died for God’s sake!’
‘Because he had a financial “expert”, Liam, who’d been entrusted with investing for Adam over the last year or so. Unaware of Adam’s death, Liam invested a few days after the funeral, and then again, later on.’
A half-memory surfaces of Adam telling me about Liam. But, as usual, business stuff had gone over my head and I’d not paid much attention. From a sandpaper-dry throat, I manage to ask, ‘How… How much is left?’
Robert bites his bottom lip, blows air down his nose. ‘Nothing in his secret account. Just under £10,000 in the one you know about.’
Hysteria bubbles in my chest and I want to release the scream, laugh and yell all at the same time. He wanted it all to be a wonderful surprise… it was a surprise all right. How could he have done this? For fuck’s sake! How am I going to manage? Okay, the ten grand would tide me over for a bit, but not that long. All the dreams of writing and not having to worry about the future financially are turning into the worst nightmare right before my eyes, and there isn’t a thing I can do about it. I scrape back my chair and hurry to the balcony, take deep gulps of air, try to quell the nausea rising in my gut.
I feel Rob’s hand on my shoulder a few moments later and fight back tears. The surfers shimmer and blur as I fail, and then anger takes over. ‘What the fuck am I going to do, Rob? All my writing dreams are wrecked, just when I had a feeling that things were about to take off. I’ll have to try to get my job back at the library. How could Adam have been so stupid? Not only do I have to try to live without him, I have to scrape by while I do it!’
‘Hey, he was doing it for the both of you. There was no way he knew he was going to die… He wanted it all to be a lovely–’
‘Surprise. Yes, you said.’ I close my eyes, take a few breaths. Of course he didn’t know he was going to land me in it, but he had, nevertheless. There is only so much I can cope with. What a hellish seven months this has been.
Rob takes his hand away and heaves a sigh. ‘It could be so much worse – at least you still have this place. You could sell it. Must be worth at least £800,000.’
The idea of leaving ‘this place’ fills me with dread. I adore it. It’s all I have left of my life with Adam. Yes, I’m lonely and rattle around this big house like a pea in a drum… but sometimes, just sometimes, I think I see Adam from the corner of my eye watching TV like he used to; feet up, beer in hand. And other times I hear his laughter, his voice. Of course it’s all in my imagination, but if I left this place, bought somewhere new, I’m scared that the memories and imaginings would disappear quicker than dew on summer roses.
‘I don’t want to do that. I couldn’t bear it. The upheaval, the–’ I throw up my hands. What’s the use in going through it all with Robert?
‘It would be hard, but it might be your best option.’
‘No. I’ll get a job – forget all this fanciful writer lark. It was a nice dream while it lasted.’
Robert is silent for a moment. ‘You could still write in the evening, weekends?’
‘Yes, I could, though it won’t be the same…’ I notice Robert’s mouth twitch into an almost sneer, which he hides just too late behind a sympathetic smile. How must I sound? Robert just said it could be so much worse and it could. There are thousands more worse off. Millions. ‘Hey, I’m
just being a prima donna. Don’t worry about me, Robert. And it couldn’t have been easy coming round here to tell me this news.’ I pat him on the shoulder and lead the way to the door. I need to be alone.
Robert stands on the doorstep and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. ‘If there’s anything I can help you with, night or day, you know where I am, okay?’
‘I do. You have been a good friend, Robert, and I’m very grateful.’
Half a bottle of wine by three in the afternoon on an empty stomach is not one of my better ideas. All I want to do is sleep, and I’ve to be at Helena’s at five for tea. They eat really early because of little Adam. What on earth will he think of a half-cut grandma? Coffee. I need coffee. There would be no mention of Robert’s news to Helena either. That would only worry her. I’ll get a job before I tell her, then there’ll be no need to worry at all, will there?
One cup of coffee down, another to go. Already I’m feeling more positive. If I get my old job back, a long shot, but you never know, there would be lots of people to take snippets from for future characters in my novels. Working full-time wouldn’t be bad at all, in fact… Was that my phone? I find it under a cushion and thumb the screen. I don’t recognise the number. ‘Hello?’
‘Sam, it’s Dan. How you doing?’
I sit on the arm of the sofa. What the hell does he want? So much for thinking that they wouldn’t get in contact again. ‘I’m good, but then it’s only been a few days or so since I saw you…’
‘And with any luck we’ll see you again next week!’
‘You will?’
‘Yes. I said that we hoped to get a holiday cottage down your neck of the woods at the reunion, remember?’ I did. ‘The money’s come through from Penny’s parents’ sale, and so we’re going to come down and house hunt!’
No. Bloody hell, that’s all I need. ‘Oh… right. That will be lovely.’
‘Jeez, don’t sound too enthusiastic.’
‘Er… I am, just not feeling too well. Touch of the flu, I think.’
‘Oh, poor love. Hope you’re well by next Wednesday. I’ll give you a bell when we’re down and we’ll meet up, or we could pop over to yours?’
I force a smile into my voice. ‘Great, yeah.’
I press the end call button and slump backwards onto the sofa. The positive feeling has drained into the coffee dregs; why wasn’t I more assertive with him? I should have just said I was busy or told the truth. The truth is that I don’t want to see them. They are my past, and I only went up north to put that to bed and show them I’m not the girl they’d dumped on back then. Right now, however, the confident writer, the woman in control I’d been last week has gone. My world has fallen apart. Again. The sixteen-year-old girl I thought I’d left behind is right here and sitting on the sofa.
5
A fish out of water. Penny looks like she doesn’t belong. Even though she’s left the fast-paced bustle and noise of the city behind, she’s brought its essence with her, wears it like a second skin. I hide a smile. Who wears high heels to come to Cornwall? Who wears high heels, full make-up and a tight skirt to come to Cornwall? Is she mad? Penny looks odd; misplaced. Is this her armour? Her defence against my perceived threat to her glad-eyed husband? Perhaps. There’s no other explanation I can think of for her inappropriate dress. The problem is, she just looks bizarre.
Against my better judgement, I’ve allowed myself to be taken to lunch at The Harbour Fish and Grill restaurant in Newquay. I’ve been here a few times before and have never been disappointed, but today, mainly because of Penny’s appearance and Dan’s overly cheerful attitude to everything, I feel a bit fish out of watery too. Once again, my ability to be assertive and honest deserted me yesterday when Dan called to arrange this lunch. It was as if my resolve just melted as soon as I had the phone in my hand. Two people live inside my head and the assertive one, ironically, it seems is the weaker.
‘I might have the crab salad,’ Penny says, running a red nail down the menu, a pout on her mouth – also red – matching lipstick.
‘I have had that before here and it was delicious,’ I say, pouring some water for all of us and apologising as some of the lemon slices plop out into Penny’s glass, causing the water to splash onto her skirt. Penny’s glare doesn’t sit with her “no probs” light response. Does she think I’ve done it on purpose, for goodness’ sake?
‘I’m more of a meat man, myself,’ Dan says as if this is a reflection on his masculinity somehow.
‘You like something to get your teeth into don’t you, love?’ Penny’s lascivious wink and a cursory sweep of my slim figure nearly puts me off eating anything at all. Coming here had been a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Dan ignores his wife, which earns him one of her glares, and says, ‘So, you say your house overlooks a beach, Sam?’
‘Yeah. Mawgan Porth, about fifteen minutes from here.’
‘We’d love a nosey later, wouldn’t we, Pen?’
‘Er… yes, if we aren’t imposing too much.’
Penny sounds as enthusiastic about seeing my home as she would be if invited to pull her brain down her nostrils with a rusty nail. I don’t want them there anyhow. I need to ring my old boss about getting a new job. I’d meant to do it every day this week, but each time I’d put it off. ‘I do have a few things planned, I’m afraid…’
‘Aw, really? I was so looking forward to seeing your house, we both were, weren’t we, Pen?’ Dan’s unsubtle eye-flash at his wife elicits a lukewarm response.
‘But you heard Sam. She’s busy… perhaps another time.’
Something in her tone rankles me. Penny used to be my closest friend, and apart from her genuine concern at the reunion over Adam’s death, she has treated me as if I was something unpleasant on her shoe. I was the person who had been in the right all those years ago. Anyone would think it was the other way around. Then I sigh. Is it any wonder after what I did? I do feel ashamed, and hate the person they made me become back then. But part of me can’t help but feel that my revenge was justified. And if she is insecure about her husband, then tough. I wonder if Penny’s fears are based on evidence. Once a cheater, always a cheater, don’t they say?
‘I can put it off until tomorrow if you both want to come so much.’ I direct this at Penny with a winning smile. Cruel, perhaps… but so what?
‘That’s great! We won’t stay ages, just would like to see the house. At the reunion, you said you adored it as it was so special. And me being a property developer, I love to look at stunning structures.’ Dan’s slow smile and prolonged eye contact draws a flame up along my neck and into my cheeks.
I smile, avert my eyes, take a long drink of water and pretend to brush something off my jeans. I don’t like how he’s making me feel. Or I do… I can’t decide.
The cool mood Penny was in before I said they could visit my house is now bone-chillingly arctic. I stop trying to make conversation with her and turn all my efforts to Dan. We are getting on really well and I can’t remember laughing so much for ages. He’s just as funny as he was as a kid, and we still share the same offbeat sense of humour. All the while, Penny just picks at her crab salad and drinks more wine than she ought to at this time of day. She’s got that hangdog expression on her face. The same one she had when she’d walked into that cubicle all those years back. I was behind the door smoking and I grabbed her arm and slapped her hard across the face. She’d started crying, begged me to forgive her for sleeping with Dan, but I wasn’t having any of it. The red mist descended, and I spun her round and jabbed the toe of my shoe in the hollow of her knee. She went down fast on both knees and banged her head on the edge of the toilet seat. I lunged forward, grabbed her long hair and forced her head into the pan and pulled the flush.
Unexpectedly, she’d just gone limp, rested her head on the seat and sobbed her apology over and over. That had made me even more furious. I wanted her to fight back so I could really hurt her. And then before I knew what I was doing, I yanked up her top a
nd stubbed my cigarette out on her back. Penny had screamed and screamed. It was an awful sound – pain mixed with disbelief and horror. I can almost hear it again now and I try to focus on what Dan’s saying, try to blot out that awful memory.
‘Don’t get me wrong. I like the sea as much as the next person, but I can’t see the fun in living by it, miles from anywhere,’ Penny drawls and points a chip at me. ‘I mean, how do you cope without a big mall or shopping centre on your doorstep? Where do you get your clothes from?’ She looks at my jeans and flowery blue cotton top as if they offend her.
I’ve shaken the memory, but the anger remains. ‘I normally go through the bins.’ I point at my jeans. ‘Sometimes I nick stuff from scarecrows. It’s amazing what a bit of washing powder can do though.’ I wink at Dan and he guffaws.
‘Oh, I didn’t mean…’ Penny says and has the grace to blush.
Yeah you did. ‘Never mind. I’m not bothered about designer this or that. I just wear what I think suits me.’
‘Very sensible too.’ Dan nods at my shirt. ‘That top looks stunning on you, brings out the colour of your eyes.’
Penny looks ready to choke on her chip and downs more wine.
‘Thanks, Dan. So, Penny, where are you looking for the cottage? Round here, or further afield?’
‘God knows,’ Penny mumbles into her glass. ‘It’s Dan’s domain… truth be told, I’m not really that bothered about getting one.’
‘You say that now, Pen, but you’ll love it. Just think, on a Friday afternoon when I’ve finished work in the summer, we can get a plane down here and be in the cottage before last orders.’
‘Hmm. It sounds like it will take a big chunk of my parents’ money though. Not sure it will be worth it… and the weather down here isn’t exactly Mediterranean, is it?’
‘You like holidays in the sun, Penny?’ I finish my steak and push the plate aside.
