The Cornish Village School - Summer Love (Cornish Village School series Book 3)

by Kitty Wilson

  ‘Well, as you can see Mr Choudhury is busy teaching at the moment, but I believe Rosy is in her office. If I can’t help you, perhaps she can.’

  Marion pushed, actually pushed, Pippa to one side as she spoke, her words to the teaching assistant shot out of the corner of her mouth like a cartoon villain. ‘I think I know who it is I need to see, Miss Parkin.’ Then with her scary sexy crocodile grin on, she said, ‘Mr Choudhury, coo-ee dear, I wanted to come and introduce myself properly.’ She slinked across the room, a colossus of self-confidence and determined intent.

  Kam looked up, startled as her voice boomed around the room and some of the class began to giggle. They were more than used to Marion Marksharp’s frequent visits to the classroom.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Marksharp.’ Ellie, one of the classes most confident pupils, greeted her.

  ‘Hello, dear, do send my love to your delicious father.’ But she spoke without slowing her pace, quite a feat whilst perched atop four-inch heels on a floor scattered with stickle bricks, small plastic chairs and a plethora of young children. Kam stood up from where he was sitting on the floor to meet her.

  Pippa wasn’t sure what to do next. She didn’t want to undermine Kam’s authority by rushing over to protect him – it implied he couldn’t look after himself – but then again there were very few people in Penmenna who could deal with Marion. Pippa rejoined her small group of pupils no longer counting and ordering seeds as instructed but sitting agog to see what would unfold.

  Kam and Marion met midpoint in the classroom.

  ‘Mrs Marksharp, I understand. A pleasure to meet you.’

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your teaching, dear’ – Pippa was amazed the woman’s nose didn’t grow so long it hit a display board – ‘but I wanted to come and introduce myself. I’m Mrs Marksharp – do call me Marion – the head of the PTA and, in my husband’s absence, the acting Head of the Governors. And I’m afraid at the moment he is very absent.’ She giggled and held her hand out rather like the Queen, as if she expected Kam to kneel before her, take it and bestow a kiss of supplication.

  ‘How are you? I believe we met briefly before, when I came in for my interview.’ He took her hand, rather awkwardly, and shook it.

  ‘Quite. We absolutely did. I remember you very well, very well indeed. In fact, I told Rosy that I thought she should offer you the job.’

  ‘Oh well, in that case, thank you very much. I think I’m going to love it here.’

  ‘Well, I’m a great believer in having pretty things to look at and you my dear have quite the prettiest eyes I have ever seen. Pretty eyes in a very handsome face.’

  Pippa jumped to her feet. For goodness sake, clearly the #MeToo movement was not something Marion subscribed to.

  ‘Do sit down, Miss Parkin, I’m not going to eat him alive,’ Marion snapped. ‘At least not just yet,’ she followed up, the sharpness of her address to Pippa juxtaposed against the sultry tone her voice took on once she turned back to Kam. ‘I do like to get well acquainted with all the new teaching staff who come and join our wonderful community.’ That was news to Pippa. She was fairly sure Harmony Rivers had never been welcomed in such a manner, nor the far stricter Amanda Adams ‘So I thought I would just slip in and invite you to dinner. I’m child-free tonight so this evening would work very well.’

  Don’t say yes, don’t say yes, Pippa willed Kam. If he rocked up at the Marksharp house tonight she had a fairly firm idea of what might be on the menu.

  There had been a whisper that the Marksharps’ marriage may be in trouble, although, if anything was ever brought up in the staffroom, Rosy shut down all gossip fairly quickly, reminding people that no one knew what went on behind closed doors and the only sure thing was that rampant whispering and the dissemination of gossip could only make it worse. She also threw in her tuppence worth about how, as far as she was aware, the Marksharps’ marriage was more than strong and that Richard Marksharp was merely away with work. Pippa hoped for Kam’s sake that he came home pretty soon. The thought of a single Marion permanently on the prowl would be enough to drive any sensible man into his shed for the foreseeable future. School fayres and the like would become female-only affairs pretty quickly.

  ‘That’s a very kind offer, Mrs Marksharp, and I feel very welcomed by the Penmenna community but I’m afraid I’ll have to…’ – don’t say rain check, do not say rain check, Pippa willed him – ‘…have to pass for the time being. I’m picking up the keys to my new flat after work today in Treporth Bay.’ Kam named the next village over, somewhat chi-chi with its marina and high-end seafood eateries.

  Far from putting Marion off, the mere mention of Treporth Bay made her eyes brighten. There was very definitely a purring noise coming from somewhere and Pippa could virtually hear the cogs turning in her brain from where she was sat.

  ‘Treporth, oh how lovely, and how wonderful for us that you are moving so close. Very well then, I shall let you settle today, but I expect an invite to the housewarming. In fact, if you like, I could organise one for you.’

  ‘That’s very kind and I shall certainly bear it in mind closer to the time.’

  ‘You do that,’ she purred again, the leopard print was obviously having an effect. Pippa was quite surprised she managed not to rub up against his leg. ‘Now I shall leave you to get on with your teaching. I do hope Class One appreciate how very lucky they are to have such a talented new teacher. I shall be watching you with great interest, my dear.’

  ‘Ah, well, thank you very much.’

  ‘Oh, and one more thing: I’ll be organising the rota for mums to help you with the swimming classes this term. You should have a ratio of one to two and I can promise that I will make that happen. I expect they’ll all be very keen. Let me reassure you, though, that I shall be the one to go in the pool with you: I’m experienced, very fit and highly flexible, so I know we’re going to work so well together.’ Pippa wasn’t at the right angle to see if Marion winked but she wouldn’t have been surprised. Meantime, it was taking all of her self-control not to gag at the thought of Marion’s flexibility.

  ‘Sounds fabulous, and thank you for coming to say hello, but really I should—’

  ‘Of course, you must, dear. We shall have such fun in the pool. Such fun. And you can come to dinner next week when you’re all settled.’

  Chapter Nine

  The day had flown past and Kam couldn’t believe the speed with which it had done so. Small children really didn’t ever stop so he hadn’t had time to breathe from the minute they had come flying in in the morning to when the school bell rang out at three.

  He had handed the children over to their parents and carers at three o’clock, which had taken ages. Almost every parent stopped to introduce themselves and make friends, which was lovely and helped contribute to his picture of the children individually, but it did go on a bit and he was desperate for coffee.

  Now finally free, he went to look over the planning for the next day before heading to get himself a cup. He had hoped to have a quick catch up with Pippa before she headed off for the day, but she seemed to have disappeared. Teaching Assistants were paid by the hour so he didn’t blame her at all for fleeing the minute the bell rang.

  Just as he was staring at the plans on the wall, where they were placed so anyone accessing the classroom – parents, students, observers – could see how the day or week was going to shape up, he heard the door open and shut again.

  ‘Here, I thought you might need this.’ Pippa headed in with his cafetière, which he had stored in the staffroom. ‘That was a belter of a day – first day of term always is – and you smashed it. I thought Marion may overwhelm you. That outfit! But you did so well. I’ve seen other teachers cry over that woman.’

  ‘They cried over her inviting them to dinner?’

  ‘Oh, that was hilarious! Trust me when I say she doesn’t usually invite them over.’

  ‘Ah! Well, maybe they don’t have pretty, pretty eyes in a very handsome face.’<
br />
  ‘Hahaha, no I guess not. Sorry ’bout that. Anyway, coffee?’

  ‘Yes please, I thought you had gone home.’

  ‘Oh no, I always stay and just get everything tidied away before the cleaners come in a bit. I reckon that you should just sit, enjoy that and catch your breath, a first day survival treat. I’ll be done in a swizz.’

  Kam smiled up at her. He had known she would be amazing in the classroom, and had been proved right. She had such a high-energy attitude that it was impossible not to be captivated by her as she swooshed around all day, livening up the classroom, singing as she went and engaging the children in every activity they undertook. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like for someone so positively chirpy all day, and was rather envious. He wasn’t convinced he would have been able to maintain the level of happy that she achieved on a constant basis.

  He knocked back his coffee in four big gulps and went to help her wash all the paint trays and brushes.

  ‘Hey, you’re meant to be resting.’

  ‘This is restful.’ He answered as he stood next to her and filled the second sink with all the art paraphernalia.

  ‘Washing trays and brushes?’

  ‘Yeah, I like washing up. I’m a bit of a water babe so am quite happy. I spent a large part of my childhood washing up for my Mum. I come from a big family, and mum is food obsessed so I swear I spent as much time with my hands in the sink as she did constantly cooking.’

  ‘That sounds nice. Family is important.’

  ‘It is. Although mine are a little cross with me at the moment.’ Pippa turned to face him, her eyes alight with curiosity, but instead of prying into why his family may be cross she had another question on her mind.

  ‘Did I hear you tell Marion that you’re picking up your keys tonight? For a place in Treporth Bay?’

  ‘Yup. I’ve been staying with a friend in Newquay for the past few months. He runs a hostel so I’ve been helping out and living the surf dream but it’s such a trek from here and it was about time I got my own place. There wasn’t anywhere available in Penmenna, but I’ve got this place on a short-term let and it’s close enough. Walking distance if needs be.’

  ‘True. Is it dead swish? It’s not one of those flats on the marina, is it?’

  ‘It is. Do you know them?’

  ‘Of course, they’re the ultimate des res around here at the moment. I’ve always fancied seeing inside one of them. You’ll have to tell me all about it.’

  ‘Or you’ll have to come over one night. See for yourself.’ Pippa smiled in response to this, a smile that flooded her already happy face and lit up her eyes, which then developed a cheeky glint. That was cute.

  ‘Okay, I’m free tonight so I was considering asking if you wanted a hand. We could get you all moved in and then go for a drink later, either in Treporth or walk back over to Penmenna and I’ll induct you into village life in The Smuggler’s Curse. You’re not a proper local until you’ve had a pint of Rattler in there. Oh, or a soft drink, obviously, if you don’t drink. Lottie, my flatmate, she doesn’t but I like one now and again.’

  ‘No, it’s okay, I definitely appreciate the odd pint. That would be great but you said “considering asking”.’

  ‘I didn’t know if it was appropriate, plus you’ve been stuck with me all day so I figured you may want to escape.’

  ‘Hmmm, you are quite hard work…’ Kam watched as Pippa’s face fell. ‘Hey, where’s that smile gone that’s been beaming all day? I was only joking. I’ve really enjoyed working alongside you today; I think we’re going to have fun working together. It’s whether you can put up with me for any longer.’

  ‘It has been tricky but I’m a bit of a saint so I can probably cope with a little bit more. Just a little bit.’

  ‘In that case, Miss Parkin, if your offer is still open I would greatly appreciate your help. But I don’t have much to move so why don’t we just meet at The Smuggler’s Curse later tonight and you can fill me in on all the local gossip. And maybe give me tips to stop that PTA woman from devouring me alive in front of the children.’

  ‘I can’t promise anything.’

  ‘Not even a drink at eight o’clock this evening?’

  Pippa drained the sink, dried her hands and walked over to put trays and brushes back in the cupboard before turning around and flashing a great big smile at him.

  ‘That is a promise that’s far more achievable. That one I can make and keep. Eight tonight in The Curse. It’s a date.’

  Chapter Ten

  Pippa smiled as she approached The Smuggler’s Curse that evening. She had deliberately come a bit early so she would be there to welcome Kam when he turned up. Living in the village all her life meant she was under no illusions about the local pub but she did love the way it was a community hub with its interesting collection of regulars propping up the bar most evenings.

  There was Mickey, a music sensation of the nineties who had made enough money off the back of three very popular dance anthems that meant he could spend the rest of his life in happy obscurity, pint in hand, his hair still in his eyes and missing a fair chunk of his teeth, firm in the belief that there had never been a summer to match that of 1989, and hitting on any woman under seventy who dared enter the dark insides of The Curse.

  Then there was Andrew, in theory the village’s taxi driver, who could guarantee to be so inebriated by half past six on any evening that he wasn’t fit to walk anyone home, let alone drive them. He was, however, a good friend of her dad’s and always willing to put his hand, albeit only possessing three fingers and a thumb, in his pocket to buy Pippa a drink.

  Walking in was a bit like going home. If Roger liked you, there was a strong chance your drink of choice would have been poured by the time you got to the bar, alongside a packet of dry roasted thrown in for good measure.

  However, as friendly as the pub was to locals, out-of-towners were a different story. The pub would go silent when someone unknown walked in, every head turning to appraise the visitor. If conversations were resumed then it was fair to assume you had been accepted; if not, it was best to make a run for it and never return, in case the proverbial pitchforks were gathered and brandished.

  Somewhere back in the mists of time and at the height of Cornwall’s smuggling prowess, the regulars had run the Custom’s men out of Penmenna, forks, scythes and torches in hand, and the pub still rested on that reputation. In fact, Pippa suspected they were itching to do it again.

  Roger, the landlord, tall, wiry, having lost most of his hair and all of his manners several years ago, deliberately kept the outside run down so as not to attract any emmets – tourists named after ants because of the way they would scurry all over the county, bright red with sunburn, come high season. Indeed, the outside of the pub looked so ramshackle that holiday makers would walk straight past, unaware that The Curse regularly dished up the best roast in the county and had highly illegal lock-ins at every possible opportunity. However, with locals regularly filling it to bursting point and it being practically impossible to secure a table for Sunday lunch unless you were sixth generation Cornish and your family had had a table for years, it meant the brewery were reluctant to change the formula. Plus, everybody knew that Roger kept a twelve bore behind the bar and wouldn’t be afraid to use it.

  Pippa loved the pub because of all its idiosyncrasies, rather than in spite of them. It had a roaring fire all year long, and right now it had the additional advantage of not smelling like formaldehyde – unlike her flat. She had mentioned this to Lottie who had laughed off all Pippa’s concerns about toxicity, remarking that lemon juice was hardly likely to preserve the animals quite as effectively, although if she wanted to get her some arsenic she was happy to give that a go. Pippa really hoped she became a raving success soon and rented a workshop.

  She had even resorted to pointing out that the chemical stench and dead wildlife littering the flat could be the reason that none of Lottie’s dates ever came back. Lottie poi
nted out that if her dates couldn’t get past her hobby and see the joy in the dormouse scene on the mantlepiece, then they weren’t girlfriend material anyway.

  Pippa pushed the pub door open and saw all the regulars sitting at the bar.

  ‘Alright, darling? See you’ve been raiding my nan’s wardrobe again.’ Andrew greeted her. Pippa swirled a full circle for them in the cute little floral tea-dress she had decided to wear for tonight’s date. No, not date – professional meeting of two colleagues with the intention of one welcoming the other into the community. Anyway, it was still a super cute dress and she loved it almost as much as she did the red patent Mary-Janes she had paired it with.

  ‘Yup, she asked me to tell you to give her underwear back. Says she’s sick of asking and coral has never been your colour anyway,’ Pippa winked as she teased him, whilst Mickey flicked his hair out of his eyes as he laughed at his mate’s face.

  ‘You deserved that. You look fair ’ansum, little one. Come sit here and let me buy you a drink, and then you can tell us how come we’re blessed with your presence on a school night.’

  ‘I’m actually here for work.’

  ‘For work?!’ The two men chorused. ‘Does that mean that headteacher of yours will be in as well?’ Mickey’s eyes lit up at the thought of two young women in this evening.

  ‘Nah, a new colleague. I said I’d let him know all about the area and suggested he meet me here.’

  ‘He, is it? a man? Up at the school? Hoo hoo hooo, has anyone told Richard Marksharp?’

  ‘Stop it, Andrew.’

  ‘You know what she’s like. She’ll be prowling around like a lion after fresh meat if Richard don’t get e’self back here soon. And with a male teacher in school… well, that is just easy pickings!’

  ‘Oi! Maybe he wouldn’t be interested in Marion,’ Pippa sprang to Kam’s defence, after she had taken a huge glug of the gin Roger had wordlessly put in front of her.

  ‘No one is interested in Marion. She just pulls you in like a hurricane and there ain’t no choice about any of it! You know that!’