The Frenemies

by Cathy Bramley

  I told her about the lifeboat house and how important it was to the community and Jude’s plans to save it from being developed.

  ‘And worryingly, it’s also the reason Campion’s here.’

  ‘What would he want with that?’ she pondered aloud, her focus sharpening on the little boat house.

  ‘No idea,’ I shrugged, ‘but whatever his reason, it was important enough for him to make a last-minute booking and hotfoot it to Devon.’

  ‘I’ll invite him in for another nightcap later and see if I can wheedle it out of him.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘That is, if I can stay awake until then.’

  ‘That would be brilliant.’

  I needed to let Jude know as soon as possible. Firstly because of the impact it might have on his plans, secondly because … well, any excuse to talk to him, really.

  I collected up the wrappers from our lunch and popped them in the bin at the side of Big Dave’s shack. ‘And you?’ I asked. ‘Why was your booking suddenly brought forward?’

  ‘At the risk of getting sand in my shoes,’ she said, ‘let’s walk and talk on the beach.’

  I followed her down the slipway to the beach. And for a couple of minutes, the only sound was the push and pull of the tide on the shingle along the harbour.

  ‘The ratings were good last night for your cliffhanger episode,’ she said finally.

  ‘Phew! So you don’t think my leak did any damage?’

  She shook her head. ‘Viewing figures are up again. Which is why …’ She glanced over her shoulder before continuing. ‘Well, I’m leaving the show. Leave on a high, eh? Isn’t that what they say?’

  I gaped at her. The thought of Victory Road without Maxine at the helm was unimaginable.

  ‘But Victory Road is your baby!’

  ‘And I’m proud of it; the show has been far more successful than any of us imagined. I’m riding the crest of a wave on to something even bigger. Whoops, literally!’

  We both laughed as an ambitious wave rolled up the beach and we had to scamper out of its reach. Or rather, I scampered; she tottered on her ridiculous heels.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve been offered an opportunity to join a brand-new TV production company, SparkTV. I’d be able to hand-pick my own team, and they’ve already taken TV rights out on some really juicy novels. Hence the huge reading pile. It’s a big jump and a lot of location work, so I’ll have to get used to being out of London, but I’m excited for the future. I’ve come a long way from being that runner at Elstree Studios in the Seventies.’

  ‘Congratulations!’ I hugged her, hoping I had as much drive and ambition when I was her age.

  ‘Always push yourself, Nina,’ she said, as if reading my mind. ‘Acknowledge your limits but never stop challenging them.’

  I nibbled my lip. ‘I need to sort my life out. Being away from London has helped clear my head. Now I feel ready to take on something new.’ I raked a hand through my wind-knotted hair. ‘I need to start calling agents, update my résumé. I might not get another role as good as Nurse Elsie, but I need to act in something.’

  ‘Oh, get a grip!’ she huffed. ‘With that attitude you’ll be back to playing corpses on Silent Witness.’

  My insides quivered at the thought. ‘Don’t say that. Holding my stomach in for hours on end was murder.’

  I’d never forget that part. I’d told Archie that I was in the show, but omitted to tell him that I’d be nude for the whole scene. He’d been so proud that he’d invited his mates round to watch me and had been horrified at the first glimpse of his sister’s privates. He’d spent the entire time in front of the screen trying to cover me from the lads’ prying eyes.

  ‘Well, honestly,’ she said, lobbing pebbles into the waves. ‘Yesterday you said you didn’t think you had star quality. What a load of baloney. What do you think makes a great actor? Hmm?’

  I thought carefully, wanting to get it right. ‘Imagination, empathy, creativity, not being afraid of hard work?’

  ‘Exactly!’ she boomed. ‘Even what you’ve told me over lunch shows me that you have all these things.’

  Talk about a boost to the ego.

  ‘Day made,’ I said with a grin. ‘I guess if no one has ever told you you’re good, then …’

  ‘Then tell yourself.’ She rounded on me sternly, her dark eyes blinking behind her glasses. ‘Have you ever heard Meryl Streep speak about how she was turned down for the female lead in King Kong?’

  I nodded. ‘Didn’t the Italian director call her ugly?’

  ‘Exactly! I mean, how bloody dare he? But did she let that knockback ruin her confidence? No. Did that make her think she wasn’t worthy of major roles? It did not. She went on to be one of the most respected actresses in the world. I love her,’ she finished with a heartfelt sigh.

  We reached the bottom of the steps that led up to Driftwood Lodge.

  ‘From now on my mantra will be: Be more Meryl,’ I promised with a smile.

  ‘Excellent. Now I’m going back to put the finishing touches to the cast list for my island vicarage drama,’ she said and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

  ‘Right. Oh,’ I said, realizing she was waiting for me to comment. ‘Do you think there might be a part in it for me?’

  She patted my cheek. ‘That’s more like it.’

  I felt a wave of admiration for her as I watched her trot up the steps towards her cottage.

  And it was only when I got back to the Mermaid Gift and Gallery that I realized something: she hadn’t actually answered the question.

  Chapter 28

  The wind blew fiercely that night. I lay awake in bed listening to the thick thatch creaking above my head, the garden gate rattling against the latch and the distant crashing of waves on the rocks. I felt as restless as the sea. I’d been content just pootling along in Brightside Cove. Theo was good company now that he’d decided to grasp the future with both hands and I was enjoying running the cottages with him, seeing to the guests’ requests and assisting with marketing plans. But now that Maxine was here, acting as a reminder of my other life, I felt as if I should be focusing on my own future and I couldn’t stop wondering about that new drama and whether she would let me audition for it.

  It was time for me to take some action. And I would, I told myself, just as soon as I’d fulfilled my promise to Jude to help him take action of his own.

  Be more Meryl, I chanted softly, pulling the duvet up to my chin. Be more Meryl.

  I must have drifted off at some point because I woke up at five o’clock from a vivid dream. Meryl Streep and I, dressed as mermaids, had emerged from the lifeboat house holding golden Oscars to a round of spontaneous applause from a grinning audience. All except Campion Carmichael, who stood at the back of the crowd booing us both and shouting that we weren’t wanted until Jude threw him in the sea and everyone cheered.

  Ah well, a girl can dream …

  At five thirty I got up and made coffee. I’d come up with a plan and there was no time to waste lying in bed. The wind was still blustery but the clouds had cleared and the skies were streaked in a palette of silvery lavender, pink and powder blue as the sun prepared to make its appearance over the headland.

  I showered and dressed and managed to wait until six o’clock to call Jude. Unfortunately, I only had the number of Deliciously Devon so it took me several attempts to get him to answer the phone.

  ‘Morning! Fancy walking Mabel on the beach before breakfast?’

  ‘Nina?’ His voice was still thick with sleep.

  ‘Correct,’ I said, pleased that he’d recognized me. ‘Come on, I’m bursting with ideas and you need to hear them.’

  He chuckled softly. ‘Can’t you tell me over the phone?’

  I imagined him stretching his muscles, rubbing a hand through the bouncy bit at the front of his hair, blinking those lovely eyes awake. I bet he was all toasty and warm. Perhaps I should offer to go round and take him breakfast in bed.

 
; ‘Well, I could—’

  ‘I’m kidding. Give me twenty minutes,’ he said, sounding more awake. ‘Meet you at the slipway.’

  Jude was waiting in his van behind the lifeboat house when I got there.

  ‘I know you said before breakfast,’ he said, ‘but an army can’t march on an empty stomach.’

  He handed me a polystyrene takeaway cup with a tiny plume of steam escaping from a hole in the lid and then produced a paper bag from his pocket containing two warm almond croissants.

  I bit into one immediately. It was delicious: sweet and flaky. Mabel sat at my feet and gazed at me imploringly.

  ‘Almost as good as breakfast in bed,’ I said, breaking off a tiny piece for her.

  Jude caught my eye and then smiled into his coffee. ‘Almost.’

  Heat flooded my face. ‘No idea why I said that.’

  He brushed a crumb from my chin, Mabel snapped it up and we both laughed.

  As it turned out the beach was a no-go zone due to the high tide and big waves. Instead, Jude steered me towards the steep path that led up and over the headland. We were both bundled up in our windproof jackets and boots, and we needed to be: the breeze swirled around our faces and we had to press close to each other to prevent our words getting swept away. They weren’t the ideal conditions to hold a conversation but I gathered he’d been in touch with the council, begging them to hear his proposals, and I managed to convey that Eliza needed somewhere for her mermaids to get changed near the beach, which was another use for it to add to the list.

  After about ten minutes of shouting to each other, I was beginning to regret choosing an outdoor venue for this conversation. We rounded a bend to find a bench set a short way down the cliff, sheltered by rocks and thorny bushes. I pointed to it and Jude nodded. Mabel loved the wind, she danced and jumped in and out of the rocks, snapping at swirling leaves, ears flying and tail swishing left and right, but we were both glad to be out of it.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ I said once we were sitting down, ‘we need to attract the biggest audience possible to save the lifeboat house. We need to tug at heart strings, ramp up the drama, capture the imagination.’

  ‘Sounds like one of your TV shows.’ He nodded. ‘How do we do that?’

  I smiled. I liked the way he said shows as if I was never off the telly. I also liked how cosy we were; sitting here sheltered from the weather, cocooned from the world, our own private escape. I turned my body towards him so that our knees were touching.

  ‘Firstly, to use your army analogy, we have to mobilize the troops. All the groups you think would benefit from saving the boat house – get them involved.’

  He nodded. ‘Easily done. I can run up some leaflets. Get a couple of lads to post them through doors.’

  ‘Good idea,’ I agreed. ‘We can put them in the pub, and Jethro and Eliza’s shops. Molly can WhatsApp the football mums. I can use Twitter to target some groups: the local history society, the big new lifeboat station, sailing groups, sea fishing clubs … And I can put a call in to the local radio if there is one?’

  ‘Yes, Devon Sounds. And then what?’

  ‘We get them all to come to a public meeting at the lifeboat house. The bigger the crowd, the better the impact. And we invite the council too. We get them to hear your proposal right there where it matters, and we show them how important this is to Brightside Cove.’

  ‘I like it.’ Jude’s eyes glimmered. ‘At the moment they think I’m a bit of a crackpot who just wants to hold back the tide of progress. This would prove I’m not on my own.’

  You’re not on your own, I wanted to say. I wanted to take his hands and bat my eyelashes at him and hope he got the message that I’d quite like us to be more than pals. But although he was at ease with me, friendly and relaxed, the flirty edge to his body language wasn’t there today and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

  ‘We need to move fast, though,’ he continued. ‘Do you think Friday is too soon?’

  I laughed, pleased he liked my idea. ‘It doesn’t give us much time but Eliza is going to be on national TV later this morning, we can text her now and get her to give our campaign a mention.’

  ‘Whoa. Definitely not,’ Jude said at once. ‘That’s what I want to avoid. We have to do this ourselves, as a community.’

  ‘But surely, the bigger the audience—’

  ‘The more interest we attract from outsiders,’ he finished off. ‘And we don’t want that. The ideal scenario would be that the lifeboat house attracts zero bids at auction. But that’s never going to happen; it’s one of Brightside Cove’s most prized possessions. But we can try to keep the auction on the low. Which means no unwanted attention to the area. Can you imagine if we get people from London down here waving fistfuls of notes at the South Devon council? They’d probably cancel the auction and hand over the keys immediately.’

  People like Campion Carmichael.

  I swallowed down a wave of fear. ‘Then we might already have a problem.’

  Jude’s brow furrowed. ‘Oh?’

  I told him what I knew about Mr Carmichael, which wasn’t a lot other than he’d said he was down here on business and he’d been on a mission to find the lifeboat house.

  ‘This is exactly what I was worried about when I saw that piece in the paper,’ he groaned. ‘An artist, you say?’

  ‘Of landscapes,’ I said weakly.

  ‘So what would he want a derelict boat house for?’ he said, puzzled.

  I cleared my throat. ‘I don’t know. I have history with his daughter. I thought at first it might be something to do with that, but he denied it.’

  ‘Whatever he’s here for, we need to keep him out of this public meeting,’ Jude muttered. ‘He mustn’t know what we’re up to.’

  ‘Leave that with me,’ I said, anxious to redeem myself. I’d think of something …

  It was time to be heading back ready to open Eliza’s shop at nine. I stood up and looked towards the cove. Its beauty took my breath away. ‘Look at that view.’

  ‘You should see it from out there.’ Jude nodded towards the sea. ‘The curve of the bay, the boat house at one end, the cottages at the other, the fields rising from the cliffs and the boats in the harbour just smudges of colour as they bob on the waves.’

  The thought of someone spoiling it brought a lump to my throat.

  My throat tightened. ‘Jude, I’m so sorry about Mr Carmichael. I brought the Maidens of Mayfair here. Without them there’d have been no photograph of the boat house in the national press. I feel responsible.’

  ‘Hey.’ He leaned against me. ‘Do not blame yourself. You weren’t to know.’

  ‘But what if the council won’t listen?’

  ‘Then we will fight them on the beaches,’ said Jude, deadpan.

  I snorted. ‘Was that your Winston Churchill impression?’

  He pretended to puff on a cigar. ‘Never give in, never, never, never.’

  ‘And also,’ I said, grinning, ‘never give up your day job.’

  He took my hand and we retraced our steps back down the cliff, entertaining each other with funny voices. Brightside Cove was very lucky to have a man like Jude on its side. If I had to make a list of things I’d miss when I went back to London, Jude Trevone might very well be at the top.

  ‘Hey, beauty!’

  It was late in the afternoon when the taxi dropped Eliza off outside the shop door. She pushed her way in, weighed down with bags, her dungarees hanging off her shoulder as usual.

  ‘It’s Brightside Cove’s newest celebrity mermaid!’ I jumped up from behind the counter. ‘Welcome home.’

  I’d only had one customer this afternoon: a tourist who’d wanted stamps, which we didn’t sell, but he’d already tried Jethro who’d shouted at him and told him to “go home” and then he wouldn’t need to send a postcard at all, would he? On the plus side, Jude and I had managed over email to get leaflets and posters designed and printed, I’d discovered at least ten communit
y groups who said they’d attend our public meeting and I’d given a radio interview to Devon Sounds about playing a nurse in a Second World War drama and how important it was to remember local history, and by the way, I was spearheading a campaign to save the lifeboat house if anyone was free to attend our event on Friday …

  ‘Oh home,’ Eliza sighed, trailing a hand over a display of hand-painted stones. ‘London is just brilliant, but loud. How do you stand all that noise?’ She clamped her hands to the side of her face, doing a mean impression of Edvard Munch’s The Scream. ‘The cars and sirens, music blaring out of every shop. People yacking and yelling at each other all the time.’

  She paused for a second to kiss my cheek.

  ‘I’m sure you gave as good as you got,’ I said with a grin. ‘Sit and tell me everything.’

  I made her a cup of herbal tea while she peeled off her shoes, rubbed her swollen feet and told me all about the hotel, which had mood lighting depending on whether she wanted to feel energized or relaxed. She chose somewhere in the middle – aqua, which made her feel like she was underwater.

  ‘Obviously,’ I said, handing her a mug.

  ‘The whole experience was immense,’ she said, inhaling the steam from the tea. ‘It was so brilliant to get the positive message out there that we should celebrate our body diversity, and that being a mermaid is about feeling free and confident. But the crazy bit was afterwards. Five people called into the show begging me to open a mermaid school in their seaside towns. And then this researcher woman asked me if I’d consider going on Dragons’ Den. I said why would I do that, and she looked at me like I’d got a screw loose and explained that I was sitting on a goldmine and that with the right investment I could go national. But enough about me. What have you been up to?’

  I gawped at her. ‘Eliza, that’s incredible. You must be blown away.’

  She blinked rapidly. ‘It’s all going so fast. I’m out of my depth.’

  ‘You’re a mermaid, remember,’ I said firmly. ‘You can swim to the surface any time you like.’

  ‘You’re good.’ She grinned and then her face fell. ‘But what do I tell them? And more to the point, do I even want all this?’