The Frenemies

by Cathy Bramley

  ‘You’re close to your father?’ Jude asked after a while.

  ‘I was once, but he’s forgotten all about us, probably wouldn’t even remember the colour of my eyes now. He left us when I was small. I’m over it now.’ I flapped a hand, dismissing the absolute heartbreak of my childhood with a casual flick of my wrist; I didn’t want to spoil our walk with talk of my past. ‘So tell me about you, your family. You aren’t from here originally, Danny said, but your accent is local.’

  He frowned slightly as if unconvinced by my flippant reference to my father.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘let’s walk and you can talk.’

  He took my hand and tucked it through his arm and while Mabel leapt and danced around us we set off again towards the harbour, weaving as we walked to keep our feet out of the surf.

  ‘Okay, but you’ve been warned; it’s not a happy tale. My dad didn’t leave me. But I spent every waking hour wishing he would. He was violent and erratic and earned a living selling drugs, although we never seemed to have much money. We lived on an estate so rough that the postman refused to deliver to us.’

  ‘That’s awful. Why didn’t your parents move?’

  ‘My parents,’ he said drily, ‘were part of the problem. There were people on the estate who petitioned to get our sort evicted. We had messages posted through our door all the time. Not by the postman, obviously.’

  ‘What sort of messages?’

  ‘Well.’ He took a sharp breath. ‘On my ninth birthday, I heard the letter box clatter and ran downstairs amazed that someone had remembered me. Only to find that someone had shovelled dog mess through the flap and a note that read, “Scum out.” I knew it was aimed at my dad, but all the same, I was devastated.’

  The thought of a nine-year-old boy daring to hope that he might have a birthday present only to have those hopes so brutally dashed made my heart ache for him.

  ‘Oh Jude, and on your birthday. My mum might have been a cold fish towards my brother Archie and me, but we always got presents. No parties because she didn’t like letting strangers in to the house, but even so, compared to your upbringing, mine was idyllic. What did your mum think about it?’

  ‘Huh. She idolized my old man, wouldn’t hear a word against him.’

  Unlike my mum, who wouldn’t even mention my father’s name. The word Dad was strictly taboo after he left. Most confusing for Archie and me when we were little. I was still confused now.

  ‘Other people’s relationships are a mystery to me,’ I said, frowning. ‘You never really know what goes on between two people behind closed doors: what makes it work; what causes it to break.’

  The hairs on my spine stood up as I thought about Mum and Dad, who couldn’t have been suited for them to fall out so catastrophically, and then Theo and Kate, who I still believed did have a chance.

  I’d have to be getting back to Driftwood Lodge soon; I couldn’t leave things as they were, I needed to do something to salvage the situation between them before anyone did anything silly. But not yet, not while Jude was sharing such an intimate part of himself. I pressed closer to him as we ambled along, a subtle sign that I understood and cared.

  ‘Mum chose Dad over me every time. Whenever he beat me, she’d say I had it coming.’ He shook his head sadly.

  ‘Did your dad do that?’ I flicked my eyes to the silvery scar above his ear.

  ‘Yeah. I was showing Mum a painting I’d done at school. Dad said I was no Van Gogh but maybe cutting my ear off would help. He grabbed the tip of my ear and pretended to slice it with his knife. I fought him off and the knife slipped and cut me. It poured with blood. They laughed about it for the rest of the night.’

  My eyes pricked with tears. ‘How can someone be so unspeakably cruel to a child?’

  ‘It happens,’ he said dully. ‘I’m afraid to say I’ve seen all sorts of cases of neglect and abuse.’

  How brave he was to pursue a career in social work after the childhood he’d endured.

  ‘Did social services intervene?’

  ‘Not before I ran away when I was twelve. I thought the longer I stayed, the more likely it was that I’d end up like my father. I wanted to forget my dad, get all traces of him out of my system.’

  Whereas I’d spent my whole life wondering why my dad had forgotten me.

  I looked at him. The man who’d stepped in to help out at my dinner last night even though he clearly couldn’t cook, who’d stayed to clear up, who’d humoured the hen party girls, helped cook breakfast, not to mention kissed me so amazingly this morning … No, he’d never end up like his dad. Besides, Mabel loved him and dogs were very astute at picking out good humans.

  ‘I’m sure you were never in danger of ending up like him,’ I said fiercely.

  His face softened. ‘Thanks. Never saw them again. I later found out that they hadn’t even bothered reporting my absence. I escaped to Devon. I’d heard other kids at school talking about their holidays by the seaside and it always sounded so perfect: the buckets and spades, the paddling, fish-and-chip suppers and ice creams on the beach.’

  We stopped and Jude turned to face the sea. The tide was getting higher and the boats in the harbour were beginning to shift on the sand. Soon they would be afloat, ready for the sailors who appeared in the little harbour car park at the weekend, ready for the healing power of the salty air and the roll of the sea. In the distance, Big Dave was throwing lobster cages on to his boat and behind his shack I could just about make out Eliza washing the windows of the Mermaid Gift and Gallery.

  It was perfect.

  Jude had done the right thing, as had I, I thought, and Big Dave, and Theo and Kate: we’d all been on the run from something when we’d first arrived in Devon, all been drawn to the restorative powers of Brightside Cove.

  He turned to me and smiled and my heart melted. He’d endured so much and yet here he was to tell the tale – and still smiling.

  ‘You were just a child; how did you survive?’

  ‘A café owner in Exeter noticed me stealing food from his bins and sleeping rough and reported me to social services. And so began the next adventure.’ He shrugged as if it was nothing.

  ‘You must have been terrified,’ I said, my voice thick with emotion. And how unloved and alone too. For all Mum’s faults – and there were a few – at least Archie and I knew we were safe and would always have a roof over our heads.

  ‘When home is a scary place, you have a skewed sense of risk. The big wide world seemed a safer bet than home.’

  Jude blotted a tear from my face with his thumb which I hadn’t even realised I’d shed. It was all I could do not to throw my arms around him and weep for the lost little boy he had been.

  He whistled for the dog and when she came charging towards us, we both bent down to fuss her. I took Jude’s hand and squeezed it. ‘And what was the next adventure?’

  ‘Shall we head back and I’ll tell you the rest?’

  We turned back towards the van and I listened as he described how he’d been taken into care, put into a children’s home, which he’d hated so much that he kept trying to escape, terrified that he’d be sent back home. He’d fallen in with a gang, copied their dialect to fit in and started to go off the rails: getting involved with vandalism, dabbling in arson, the odd bit of shoplifting. Hating himself for becoming like his father, but not having the maturity to escape. And then, finally, when he was fifteen, his luck changed and he was introduced to Angie, a woman whose own children had already flown the nest.

  ‘Officially Angie was my foster mum.’ He grinned. ‘But she did more than mother me, she saved me, persuaded me to go back to school and study for a career. She’s still the most important woman in my life.’

  Mabel barked loudly and bounced up at Jude.

  ‘Yes, you’re important too,’ he said, ruffling the fur around her ears, and we both laughed.

  He gave me a boyish grin and my heart stalled; he was lovely and I wondered why there was no other important wo
man in his life.

  ‘You’re incredible,’ I said simply. ‘And your story is an inspiration.’

  Jude shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t go quite that far, I’m no angel. But now I’m a social worker with a decent job, I like to think I can be a role model to some of the kids I come across in my work, not to mention do my bit to support people who can’t stand up for themselves.’

  Danny had said Jude was never happier than when he had a campaign to fight. That made sense now.

  ‘And Deliciously Devon is Angie’s business?’

  He nodded. ‘Mainly buffets for weddings and anniversaries, that sort of thing. Although at the moment, it’s on hold.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘Angie’s daughter Sophie has just had triplets and is suffering from post-natal depression. Angie is staying with her until she can cope by herself, so I’m answering enquiries and taking bookings for later in the summer.’

  Mabel, having run and swum continuously for the last twenty minutes, was now panting at Jude’s side, her pink tongue lolling. She stopped suddenly, ears pricked and gave a low warning woof.

  ‘She’s seen something,’ he said.

  Mabel broke into a run, flying across the sand towards the lifeboat house, barking loudly.

  ‘It’s that guy who was asleep in the car,’ I said, recognizing him.

  ‘Oh yeah, the surfer who forgot his board.’ Jude grinned.

  In the distance we could just make out that the man was standing on the slipway, alternately looking up at the building and then down at something in his hands.

  ‘He seems more interested in the lifeboat house than the sea,’ I pointed out.

  ‘You might be right.’ Jude swore under his breath and held a hand out to me. ‘Come on, I’ve got to say something.’

  We hurried over but Mabel had already stopped barking. Instead, she was rolling on her back and letting him tickle her tummy.

  ‘Look at that,’ he tutted. ‘Such a flirt. She’s supposed to be on my side.’

  ‘Which is what?’ I said breathlessly, tugging his arm to make him stop. ‘You never got the chance to tell me last night. Why are you against the lifeboat house being auctioned off?’

  He planted his feet in the sand and ran a hand through his hair angrily.

  ‘Although I wasn’t born here I feel like I belong. Brightside Cove is a special place and it’s our duty to keep it that way for future generations.’

  ‘I get that,’ I said. ‘But there’s a new lifeboat station around the other side of the headland. This one is derelict. Surely it’s best to let someone breathe new life into it?’

  Theo had shown me the new lifeboat station on one of our walks. It was a state-of-the-art glass building with a visitors’ centre and a café. This pretty little lifeboat house at the edge of Brightside Cove was far more charming, but its days of being useful to the community were long gone.

  ‘Agreed,’ Jude said grimly. ‘It’s the someone I’ve got a problem with. And that’ll be whoever’s got the biggest wallet.’

  I looked back to where the young man was now throwing sticks for Mabel. His car was a beaten-up old VW with a dent in the door. He didn’t strike me as a man with a big wallet.

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ I said, still not really sure why he was getting so het up. ‘Anyone who wants to invest in Brightside Cove gets the thumbs-up from me.’

  His eyes shifted from me to the man. ‘But then we’ll get another boutique or bistro or beachside apartment block. I’ve been hoping the council would do something with this place for years, instead of letting it crumble away. But I wanted them to repair it, not get rid of it.’

  ‘So what’s your plan,’ I asked, ‘other than setting your dog on any prospective buyer?’

  His mouth attempted a smile. ‘Recently I offered to start a campaign to buy it from the council, so we can be the ones to renovate and restore it, keep it in the hands of the village. And I thought they were considering my proposal. But …’ He nodded towards the building. ‘It seems not.’

  ‘And auctioning it means that a buyer will be found quickly,’ I finished for him, finally understanding his disappointment. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He shrugged hopelessly. ‘It’s all about money. They’re only interested in budgets and cost-cutting exercises and releasing capital to fund new housing that most of us can’t afford. They want cash, and time isn’t on my side.’

  ‘But I’m on your side. If I can help, just shout.’

  ‘Really?’ His eyes lit up.

  I nodded. There was something compelling about Jude: his sincerity, his passion, his dogged determination to fight the system, not to mention the fact that he was devastatingly handsome.

  ‘Thanks. With a bit of money spent on it, it could be a great space for lots of different groups to use: youth clubs, dancing, sport, even …’

  ‘Dog training? I said, nodding at Mabel, who’d abandoned stick-chasing and was now humping the man’s leg. I didn’t even know female dogs did that. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head: ‘Disgusting behaviour; look away, children.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ yelled the young man. ‘Can you sort your dog out, she’s not my type.’

  We covered the last few yards towards the slipway and, much to the man’s relief, Mabel released his leg and bounded up to Jude.

  ‘And what type are you?’ Jude bristled.

  ‘A journalist.’ He thrust his card at us. Robin Barker, News Thirst Media Agency.

  ‘And you’re …’ He clicked his fingers three times. ‘Nina Penhaligon, the actress who chucked ice on Cecily Carmichael.’

  I cringed. How long would it be before I was remembered for something I did on screen rather than off?

  He scrabbled in his pocket for his phone. ‘Can I take a picture?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said flatly, knowing he’d take it with or without my consent. I raked my fingers through my hair in a vague attempt at looking groomed, but a gust of wind from behind reversed my efforts. Robin glanced at the pictures and shrugged.

  ‘Never mind, I’m actually looking for the Mermaids of Mayfair. Don’t suppose you know where I can find them? The pic in the Daily News must have been taken from about here.’

  ‘You mean Maidens of Mayfair.’

  ‘Nope.’ He handed me a newspaper. The photo Ruby had posted on Facebook took up half the page with the headline: Mermaids of Mayfair: Sexy Sapphire Spencer and her fellow maidens swap skin for scales at mystery seaside location.

  No mention of Sapphire’s sister, Ruby; she’d be livid about that.

  ‘Took me ages to work out where they were. The lifeboat house gave it away in the end: I zoomed in on the auctioneer’s sign, googled the auction site, found the location and drove through the night.’

  ‘Why are you here?’ Jude folded his arms across his chest.

  ‘For an exclusive. I’m on a month’s trial with News Thirst. Come on, guys, I need a story. This could be my big break. I was at the Derbyshire Bugle before that, covering village shows, although I did once interview actress Lucinda Miller in a swimsuit.’ He winked at Jude who stared blankly back, none the wiser.

  ‘There’s been an embargo until now on Sapphire Spencer’s wedding,’ Robin continued, ‘but now My Dream Day has pulled out, there’ll be a scrabble to be the first newspaper to print proper details. I want it to be my byline.’

  ‘A wedding isn’t news. I can give you a better story,’ Jude scoffed.

  ‘Really?’ Robin’s eyes widened. He looked over his shoulder and took a step closer to Jude. ‘I’m all ears.’

  ‘Look behind you,’ Jude said in a low voice. ‘The Brightside Cove lifeboat house. The council is throwing away our heritage. Selling out to tourism. What about the people who live here twelve months a year? What about the legacy of our fishing communities? We must save it from falling into the wrong hands and you, Mr Barker, could be our champion.’

  Robin looked quite taken with the idea of being a champion but then he scratched his head. ‘The thing is, I
need a story with national interest.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Jude nodded irritably. ‘And a group of posh girls having a party ticks that box, does it?’

  ‘Sorry, mate, in my world,’ said Robin, scratching his head sheepishly, ‘yes.’

  Jude made a growling noise. ‘Then your world is full of—’

  ‘They’re getting ready to depart as we speak,’ I said, interrupting Jude before steam started billowing from his ears.

  Robin blinked. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Look up there.’ I gestured up to the clifftops where two white limousines were gliding towards Driftwood Lodge. The girls would be frantically packing by now. I’d have loved to say goodbye myself; we’d had such a great weekend.

  ‘Arrgghh, I’m too late!’ Robin thrust his hands into his bed-head hair. ‘Disaster.’

  ‘You’re telling me,’ I muttered under my breath. ‘I should be there saying goodbye. Not down here skulking in the shadows, waiting until the coast is clear.’

  Jude smirked. ‘That’s more like it.’

  I stared at him. ‘You think I should have stayed at Driftwood Lodge instead of running off?’

  His eyes sparkled. ‘And miss the hours we’ve spent together this morning? No way. But from the little I know of you, you seem feisty enough to fight your corner.’

  I felt a glow of pride at his confidence in me. ‘I guess I panicked and … Well, let’s just say I’m not Theo’s wife’s favourite person. I thought it might be easier if I simply removed myself from the situation.’

  ‘And now you’ve changed your mind?’ Jude asked.

  I took a deep breath. ‘It’s time to sort things out once and for all.’

  Maybe I couldn’t save Theo and Kate’s marriage, maybe too much water had gone under the bridge for them ever to get back to where they were, but I would not stand by and be the reason for a divorce.