by Amanda James
It’s 1.30pm and I’m still faffing about in the retreat. I have put out the candles in various places three times and I’m now about to pick them all up again when Helena and Adam come in. ‘There you are! We’ve been wandering around the house, yelling for five minutes, haven’t we Adam?’
Adam laughs and holds his arms out to me, a much-chewed Minion toy I bought him for his birthday in his hand. ‘Mandma!’ he says and my heart melts. Nearly fourteen months old, wilful and into everything, he’s too adorable for words. Helena sets him down and he toddles towards me on stout little legs giggling all the time. I scoop him up and shower him with kisses until he thrusts the soggy Minion in my face. ‘Kiss Minion?’
I pretend to kiss it and say, ‘I’d rather kiss you. You’re so much cuter.’
‘’Uter. Me,’ he says as if he understands. For all I know he might.
I laugh and say, ‘Yes, you. Very cute indeed.’
Helena’s about to say something when the front door opens and in walks Dan and three strangers. Obviously the guests – they’re early. Two women and a man all around my age at a guess. I know their names and that one of the women has had a short story published, but that’s all. Helena stands to one side and ushers them through, and as the man passes, she inclines her head at him, gives me a wink and mouths something I can’t make out. She’s obviously passing comment on the guy’s looks. He’s incredibly handsome in anyone’s book. Very tall, bright blue eyes, blond curly hair and a wide smile. Helena’s mouthing something else so I look away as she’s making the colour rush to my cheeks.
‘Sorry we’re a bit early,’ Dan says. He sweeps his arm to one of the women. She’s black, plump, has intelligent dark brown eyes and a warm smile. ‘Sam, this is Lydia, she’s from London and can you believe has never set foot in this fair county before?’
Lydia laughs and holds her hand out to me. ‘I know. Scandalous. But what I’ve seen so far is stunning, even at this time of year.’
I shake her hand. ‘It is. In fact, I do like it in winter more than summer sometimes. The crowds in summer mean that so many places are out of bounds. I’m not complaining though – everyone should visit Cornwall.’
Dan introduces the other woman, a red-haired pale-faced lady by the name of Emily from Nottingham who looks a bit timid. Her eyes are flitting about the place like a pair of butterflies and she gives a nervous laugh when I shake her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Sam. I read your book on the train. Really enjoyed it.’ She ends with the nervous laugh again.
‘You did? Well, that’s certainly nice to know. Thanks so much.’
Before I can say more, Dan introduces the man, a little flippantly, I feel. Perhaps he’s intimidated by his height, though Dan’s not exactly short. ‘And this giant is Harry, from Bristol.’
Harry takes my hand in his enormous one and gives me a lovely smile that lights up his face. ‘So delighted to meet you, Sam. I’ve yet to read your book, but it’s on my Kindle.’ To Dan he says, ‘And at six foot four, I’m hardly a giant.’ His smile stays put but I think Dan’s comment has irritated him.
Lydia raises her hand. ‘Just to let you know I’m not the odd one out. I’ve downloaded one of your books too,’ she says with a cheeky wink. I immediately warm to her and can tell we’ll get on.
‘Reading my book’s not a compulsory requirement for your stay here, you know,’ I say with a laugh.
I introduce Helena and Adam, and Harry comments that I don’t look old enough to be a grandma, which brings my colour up again. Dan swiftly changes the subject and suggests he show them around the retreat while I make tea. After they’ve gone from the living area Helena whispers in my ear, ‘Someone’s got an admirer, Mum.’
‘Me? Who’d you mean?’
‘Hot Harry, of course,’ she says, a giggle in her voice.
‘Oh please.’ I flap my hand at her. ‘And what were you mouthing at me when they came in?’
‘You were just saying how cute Adam was and I was saying that another cutie had just walked in.’
I shake my head and give her a withering look. ‘You need to behave, or you’ll end up embarrassing me in front of him.’ I straighten the already-straight candles again.
Helena widens her big blue eyes and does her pouty look. ‘Don’t see why. I was only saying to Carl the other night that if you found someone else I wouldn’t be sad. Dad’s gone and you’re not an old lady… well, not yet.’ A twinkle in her eye belies the serious tone.
I point a candle at her. ‘That’s enough, young lady. Now why don’t you run along while I swan about being an important author, hmm?’
Helena laughs, gives me a hug and picks up Adam. He thrusts the Minion in my face again and waves a chubby hand as his mum carries him out through the door.
I put the candle down and clasp my hands behind my back to prevent them from fiddling with anything else and stick the kettle on just as Dan leads the guests back in. Lydia comes over, leans against the big rustic kitchen table and shoots me a big smile.
‘My gosh, Sam, this place is perfect! I knew we were close to the sea, but just not how close. I think I’ll come again when the pool and hot tub are built in the summer. I can just imagine how wonderful it would be, sitting in a spa, a glass of fizz in hand looking out over the ocean.’ She turns and gazes wistfully out of the patio doors to the place where a tarpaulin now covers the hole that used to house the hot tub.
I smile, say it will be wonderful and take cups out of the cupboard. I’m careful to avoid Dan’s eye. I wonder if he’s got the same mental image as I have – of Penny swimming in a sea of her own blood.
Emily and Harry are equally complimentary about the retreat and I begin to feel more relaxed as we chat in general terms about writing. We sit on the large L-shaped sofa arrangement in the living area, Dan lights the wood burner and the room takes on a rosy glow. I sit back and realise I’m pleased that I decided to go with Dan’s crazy idea of this place. Even though the last few months have been hell, I really hope everything is starting to come together now. I daren’t count my chickens, of course. Chickens have a habit of getting their necks wrung.
Dan’s now explaining that the three of them will be expected to get their own breakfast from the well-stocked fridge and cupboards, but a light lunch and dinner will be provided each day by a professional caterer.
‘Proper luxury,’ Emily says. ‘And a whole five days to do nothing but write. Heaven.’ She takes a sip of coffee and flushes. It’s as if she’s not used to speaking in front of people much.
I try to encourage her with a smile and ask, ‘Always great to have head space to write. Do you work full-time?’
‘You could say that.’ Emily’s eyes moisten and my heart sinks. ‘I look after my aged parents who both have dementia. I’m an only child so…’ She ends on a shrug and sighs. ‘Still, I have managed to get respite and I’m going to bloody well make the most of it.’ She does the nervous laugh again. ‘Pardon my French.’
‘Oh, bugger your French,’ Lydia says, her eyes glinting with passion. ‘You have a right to be fed up. I know you love your parents, but it must be so hard to give so much of your time. This sodding government needs to put more money into helping people like you instead of pouring it into bombs for Syria and…’ She throws her hands up. ‘Sorry, it doesn’t take much for me to get my dander up nowadays.’
‘I totally agree with you, Lydia,’ I hear myself say. I’m so indignant on behalf of poor Emily and see her life in bold relief now I know something of her background. She’s been stifled and trapped all her life – a little songbird in a cage unable to truly sing and unlikely to be released anytime soon. Or that might just be my writer’s imagination taking over. I do feel for her though. ‘Never mind, Emily. I’ll do all I can to make your stay here a good one.’
Emily gives me a shy smile and Harry says, ‘We all will. And Sam, will you be doing a tutorial in the next few days?’ His expectant blue eyes search my face.
‘I will, certainly.
Although I thought I’d wait a couple of days until you decide what subject you think would be most beneficial. For instance, would you prefer one on structure, plotting, what makes a good opening, ending et cetera, or would you prefer open questions?’
‘Perhaps a combination of all of that?’ Harry answers, looking to the others for confirmation.
Dan stands up and collects the cups. ‘Might be as well to settle in for a day or two like Sam suggested before you decide. And talking of settling in, it might be an idea to go to your rooms and get your bearings… or take a walk to the beach, just suit yourselves.’ To me he says, ‘Come on, Sam. Let our guests have some of that head space, eh?’
I say goodbye and follow him out, slightly irked at the way he took over just then. Outside on the path to my house I say, ‘Who appointed you leader of the gang?’
‘Eh?’
‘One moment we were all chatting and the next you cut it dead, whisk us out of there. Why?’
Dan rolls his eyes at me. ‘Better me being leader than Harry. I can see he wants to rule the roost, so I thought I’d make sure everyone knows he can’t. The last thing poor Emily needs is someone else controlling her life. Right, I’m off to make sure that Debbie Preston, the caterer, is all set for this evening. Actually, think I’ll pop down to her café instead of phoning.’ He gives me a brief smile and then strides off to the house.
As I watch his ramrod straight form go inside, it suddenly hits me. He’s jealous of Harry. But why? Because he’s incredibly handsome, tall, funny? What? Dan’s a good-looking man too and when he feels like it, disarmingly charming… so is it because of me? Does Dan imagine that Harry fancies me, poses a threat? My heart says yes. On the one hand, I find that endearing and on the other, very irritating.
Inside he’s pacing while talking on the phone. I flop down on the sofa and think about a possible tutorial for the guests. I’d quite like just a Q&A session to begin with. It would help me to ease into it and find out more about their writing backgrounds. Dan ends his call and flops down opposite in an armchair. ‘Catering’s all sorted.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be going to the café?’
‘Can’t be bothered. I feel like I’ve been running around like a headless chicken for days making sure this venture runs smoothly.’
The tone of his words implies he’s fed up with it already. I cross my legs and say, ‘Don’t forget this “venture” was all your idea, Dan.’
My short shrift has his brow furrowing and shifty eye movements. ‘Not complaining, just tired.’
And the rest. I want to say, but don’t. A mischievous impulse surfaces, and I pretend to flick through a magazine while dropping a casual, ‘The guests seem nice, don’t they? I’m looking forward to the tutorial… I think Harry has already got a short story published, if I remember rightly.’
Dan’s expression becomes stormier. ‘No. That’s Lydia. He’s had nothing published. Thinks he will though. On the way back from the station he was telling us all that he’s chucked in a twenty-year teaching post to do supply, just so he can have time to write more. Can you imagine? Hardly the most sensible thing to do, is it? Must have a big ego.’
A giggle builds in my chest and I suck the inside of my cheek to stop its release. I knew it wasn’t Harry that’d been published but one of the women, but it was worth it to get Dan’s ridiculous reaction.
‘On the contrary, I think it is sensible. You only get one life after all – why waste it doing things you hate?’
‘“On the contrary”, is it? Gosh, darling, you’re really getting into the hammy writer’s role now.’ Dan smirks and I don’t like the look in his eyes. He can piss right off, actually. I’ve had enough of him today.
‘I am indeed. And if you’re tired I won’t keep you. I’m sure I can handle it from here. Besides, this isn’t the only venture you have on your books, is it? Thought you were involved in building some houses up north.’ I stand and lead the way out.
At the front door, he turns and frowns so hard his eyebrows knit together. ‘Yes, I have a few things on the go, but I like helping round here too. I’ll be up north tomorrow but will be back the day after and I’ll pop over to see how things are.’
I give him what I hope is a sweet smile and say, ‘There’s really no need. I’m looking forward to spending time with them all and getting to know them better. You’d just be in the way – you know, not knowing anything about writing.’
His eyes flash and he makes a noise in his throat that’s a cross between a growl and a cough. ‘I’ll come anyway. I take care of the practical stuff and I need to make sure all is well.’
I laugh and mock in an upper-class accent, ‘“All is well, don’t you know?” Now who’s hamming it up?’
Dan gives me a withering look and leaves.
I bang the door behind him and march down the hallway. Serves him right. I won’t be bossed about in my own home and I certainly won’t put up with jealous little boys who think their favourite toy is under threat of being stolen. How bloody dare he? From the study, I get one of my books and some notes on my latest work in progress and set off for the retreat with a spring in my step. A few days of writing talk with like-minded people, bliss. Something tells me I’m going to enjoy this new venture.
19
I’ve decided that even when the three guests have gone I’ll keep in touch on social media and email. The last few days have been so rewarding. I’ve realised my teaching dream in a way, because of the tutorials, and the confidence building inside me because of this new challenge has given me a very much-needed boost. I haven’t even considered having a drink in the mornings and I’m excited to start each new day. Penny’s been the last thing on my mind, thankfully. Dan phoned to say he’d been delayed on another project and he would be here the day before the guests leave instead. That suits me. He’d only spoil everything.
Harry has been very attentive, so I think Helena and Dan, though he never actually said anything, are right about him being attracted to me. It’s nice to have male attention other than Dan and all the baggage that goes with him. Harry’s a lovely guy and we get on well. Nothing will come of it though, how could it? He lives and works three hours away. Not at the ends of the earth, but it is in terms of making a relationship. Besides, I’m not sure if I want that type of commitment.
As I walk across to the retreat this morning, I laugh at my ponderings. There’s been no mention of a relationship so far. Just my wild imagination running away with me.
Lydia, Emily and Harry are laughing at something while having boiled eggs and toast as I walk in. They have gelled as a group and promised to keep in touch with each other afterwards, as well as with me.
‘Sam, come and join us!’ Lydia says, jumping up. ‘Would you like tea? There’s plenty in the pot.’
Lydia, I’ve discovered, works for the Labour Party in admin and publicity – hence the swipe at the government the other day. She’s such a grounded and genuine person and when I think of the three, I’ll miss her company most of all. Emily has come out of her shell too, and her writing shows real promise. They are all very different writers, but I’m convinced each of them could do well with a bit more experience and practice.
We sip our tea and I tell them my suggestion for the morning’s activity. Walking on the beach, listening to the sounds, smelling the air, seeing the colours and shapes and then doing some free writing when we get back. We won’t talk or discuss our feelings, just let the environment speak to us and hopefully pull some stories out of our hearts.
Harry leans back in his chair and does his big disarming grin. ‘I think that’s a bloody great idea. How much does where you live influence your writing, Sam?’
‘Only about ninety-nine per cent, Harry,’ I say with a laugh. ‘The ocean speaks to me, calms my spirit, soothes my troubles. Well, most of the time.’
I see the sympathy in all their eyes and wish I’d not said the last bit. They know about my loss, not about Penny of course, tha
t might make them run for the hills. But they do know about Adam. I shared a bit about my background on the first evening, and of course Adam is a huge part of it.
For December it’s quite mild, just a little breeze, and a cold but not unpleasant one greets us as we step onto Mawgan Porth beach. The tide’s way out and a few white horses gallop along the shoreline. The horizon draws itself a line of sea green under the grey sky and a few seagulls yell at each other from the dunes. I suck in a big breath of ozone and suggest that we set off at a brisk pace. I also remind them that we shouldn’t talk if we can help it – just listen to the sounds and look at the beauty of the place.
At first, we walk in single file quite far apart, then I notice Harry is hanging back a bit from the two women and soon he’s by my side. He gives me a big smile and his bright blue eyes reflect the clear patch of sky breaking free of the heavy cloud. I smile back and then look towards the ocean as the breeze picks up and blows my hair across my eyes. Harry’s still close by – too close. Then his hand brushes mine, on purpose? I’ve no idea, but I think yes, so I move away a bit and walk faster. He speeds up too and then he says, ‘I know we’re not supposed to talk, but we’re observing the beauty of nature, and well… you are so beautiful, Sam.’
My breath catches in my throat and I cover my shock with a laugh. I say, ‘Is your next line, “do you come here often?”’ I glance up at him and see that his eyes are serious.
‘Sam, I mean it. You are beautiful inside and out and I’d like to get to know you better. We’ve only a few days left so–’
‘So it might be better to leave it at that.’ I look back to the ocean. ‘You live in Bristol remember?’
‘It’s not on the moon. And I feel like we’ve made a connection already. How about you?’ He puts his hand on my elbow, slows my pace.
I stop, look up at him, study his face. He shoves a hand through his tousled blond hair. His cheeks are pink. Bless him, he’s self-conscious. And do I think we’ve made a connection? Probably, but it can’t work… can it? ‘Um… in a way. I do like you, Harry. You’re funny and intelligent, we share a love of writing, so yes, a connection.’
