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

by Kitty Wilson

  ‘But—’

  ‘Nope, you promised you’d listen. I know you’re going to tell me what a sweet child he was, and I agree he was. The past tense being the important bit here. Just because he asks the right questions, promises Polly festival tickets, and talks to Pete about cars does not make him a decent human being. In fact, in this instance it makes him a manipulative rat who is well versed in what strings to pull to get people to do what he wants, and it has worked brilliantly. I know you think I’m being unreasonable but I have evidence for you although, quite frankly, the fact that I want nothing to do with him should be enough.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Nope! Now I’m going to be kind here, but I have a deep-seated feeling that your desire for this relationship has actually less to do with me and James personally and more to do with the fact that you want to be a grandparent with Karen. And I understand that, really I do. And if we lived in the seventeenth century then you probably could get away with bundling me up and marrying me off to your friend’s son, but we’re not, and these days I get to have a say and I am saying no. I want children and will have them, hopefully, one day, but with the partner of my choosing not yours. Have faith that the right person will come along and I will commit to them and raise a family with them. I have faith in it and beg that you do too. But James is not that person. Not by a long stretch. Now I know that you think I’m just being difficult…’

  It was as Pippa was rattling off her defence at full speed that she suddenly realised her plan wasn’t going to work. Her mother was so good, so loyal, that if she heard a snippet of what Pippa was about to tell her about James’ potentially illegal business practices and the fact that the FCA were on to him, then she wouldn’t hesitate to pick up the phone and warn Karen. And if Pippa managed to persuade her not to, but to come down on the side of right and understand that the hundreds of people disadvantaged by his behaviour deserved to have him in custody, the mere knowing and having to keep it from her best friend would tear Jan to bits. It may make Pippa’s life easier but it would stop her mother sleeping for weeks. She paused in her speech, giving her mother a chance to respond, as she worked out what the best thing to do was.

  It didn’t take long.

  She had no choice; she couldn’t risk the trust of Simone and Lottie or the upset of her mother. She would have to keep quiet, hope the Instagram screenshots were enough and pray the FCA got their man fairly bloody soon!

  ‘No, I don’t. It’s not that I think you’re being difficult. I just think you’re misjudging this situation.’

  The irony! Pippa took a deep breath, reluctantly shelved the information about his criminal dealings and tried again.

  ‘Mum, you may have to trust me on this, but I promise I’m not imagining things when I say this man is lower than low.’

  ‘He’s so devoted to you.’

  ‘A-ha, because that is what he wants you to believe, but he’s not. He makes a good pretence of being so, and has managed to fool his own family and ours with the exception of me, and I have proof that he is not sat in London spending every second pining for me.’ Pippa pulled her phone out of her pocket and waved it triumphantly in the air. ‘And I’m going to show you. Ready?’

  She really hoped this was going to be enough.

  ‘Okay, what are you going to show me exactly?’

  ‘I’m going to show you some images Lottie recently captured off social media from one of James’ friend’s accounts. It proves he’s never been interested in me for me; he is only interested in me because I don’t want anything to do with him, and it bothers his ego so much that he can’t bear it.’

  ‘You know I don’t understand social media. I don’t do that. But it seems to me, if it’s his friend’s—’

  ‘Shh, just look, here.’ And Pippa showed her mum the first image of James kissing a very young girl as he pressed her against a wall in some seedy club. ‘Look, if he was desperately in love with me, would he have his tongue rammed down that poor girl’s mouth?’

  ‘Oh no, are you sure it’s him? There will be a good explanation.’

  ‘Really, that’s what you have to say? Okay. I had hoped that would be enough. Ready?’

  ‘Oh no, I’m sure you’re mistak— oh, oh, that’s disgusting. Oh my goodness, okay, urggh.’ Pippa’s mother looked quite sick as Pippa flipped through images of James in the lap dance club with another rather young, but very generously endowed, woman writhing on his lap.

  The back door slammed and Pippa’s mother dropped the phone, looking as guilty as if she had been caught watching porn by her children.

  Pippa couldn’t help but laugh at the look of relief on Jan’s face as her husband walked in. Surely that will have done the trick, no mention of insider trading needed and no more talk of marriage! Result.

  ‘Oh my goodness, Jim. Come and look at this. you won’t believe what our Pippa has just shown me.’

  ‘Oh yes, what’s that then?’

  Jan passed her husband the phone.

  ‘Oh my goodness, he’s got his hand in her knickers. What sort of… oh, oh. Is that James? Our James? Oh Pippa love, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine, Dad. I don’t want anything to do with him anyway, never have. This was to show you and mum what he really is like when the mask slips.’

  ‘See Jim, I always told you he was a wrong’un. Ever since he was a boy. Disgusting behaviour. Fancy you wanting him to get involved with our Pips!’

  * * *

  As Pippa lay in her bed that night, she couldn’t get rid of the smile on her face, made even broader by her phone pinging. Once her mother had flipped sides and turned against James, a burden was lifted. What was more, she hadn’t needed to risk ruining the investigation, or make her mother decide between loyalty to her oldest friend or the right thing to do. She felt so much lighter she couldn’t believe it. It was if all the weight in the world had been lifted from her, weight she wasn’t aware had been so heavy.

  Hey, how did your day go?

  Good thanks, had a really nice time with my mum.

  Pippa started to type how she had managed to get her to see the truth of James but then deleted it. She tried again, and again. But no matter how she wrote it she heard her own voice in her head explaining to Hema that her relationship with James had nothing to do with Kam, and that even discussing it would blur the boundaries of their friendship. She knew that the underlying meaning was that she was too scared. That if she told Kam that James was out of her life and he didn’t immediately respond with ‘Great, let’s be together forever, build a future and make babies’, she would be bitterly disappointed.

  And if he did, she’d be terrified.

  The others were right, she was her own worst enemy. She left the sentence as it was.

  That’s good to hear. No need for gin then. Have you got your vintage thing tomorrow?

  Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.

  Do you want some help?

  Nah, my mum is excited about coming with me.

  Okay, fair dues. I’ve got to run my mum to Falmouth at some point and do dutiful-son stuff, but she is leaving on Thursday. Fancy some celebratory drinks on Friday? One last night of fun before we have to go back to being terribly responsible adults that go to work?

  Yes, please!

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The second bank holiday in May dawned and it tipped down. Rain battered at the windows of the car as Pippa drove to Portruthan Hotel perched up on the clifftops and looking out on a very grey sea – the sort that you wouldn’t be too surprised to see dotted with icebergs.

  It did mean, however, that the roads weren’t as jam-packed as they would usually be. People had obviously decided to make the most of the extra day off to have a lie-in rather than race to the beach, and Pippa didn’t blame them.

  Another advantage, though, was that the rain was so loud against the windscreen that Pippa could, without guilt, attempt to tune her mother out as she leant forward trying to see the road as cle
arly as she could. However, it would take a tempest to completely drown out Jan, who, after yesterday, had taken against James so vociferously that Pippa was almost – only almost – regretting showing her the screenshots.

  Polly had been furious as Jan had told her very firmly over dinner that she must not accept any freebies from that pervert. Ironically, Pippa had been forced to jump in to defend the man she had been trying to turn her mother against, by pointing out that pervert was a little harsh, seeing as, with the exception of constantly turning up on Pippa’s doorstep (and the financial illegalities that Jan didn’t know about), nothing James had been doing was non-consensual. Jan didn’t seem to care. So much for wedding outfits and Debenhams.

  They pulled into the hotel and dragged box after box in through the foyer to the big old ballroom, once filled with twinkling lights and empire-line dresses and these days playing host to high-end conferences, team building days and craft fairs like the one today. Pippa was glad to see she had a corner spot; it would give her slightly more room, and make her display more inviting, less two dimensional than had she been flat against the wall. She raised her hand to greet the familiar faces also present, who were busy unpacking their wares and making things as attractive as possible.

  ‘Hey Pippa, lovely to see you. Jan, what treats have you got today?’ asked Sally displaying her beautiful hand-made children clothes on the table one along from them.

  ‘Hello, lovely to see you. Mum, can I leave you here? I’m just going to get the mannequins from the car.’

  ‘Of course, love. Do you want a hand?’ As Pippa shook her head, her wet hair flicking droplets as she did so, Jan responded to Sally. ‘Little mini scones, clotted cream and passion fruit. I thought I’d go tropical for a change.’

  ‘Yum, anything you make is good for me. Really, you should be selling your cakes and scones at places like this. You’d make a killing.’ Pippa left the hall grinning as her friends crowded around Jan, making her mother blush with the compliments that were raining down (with the same ferocity of the deluge outside) as she peeled back the Tupperware lid. People were good. People also liked cake.

  It didn’t take long before they were all set up, and even Pippa was proud of how things were looking. She had an Edwardian bridal dress which she thought was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, taking pride of place on the first mannequin. Its intricate lacework and darling little pearl buttons were enough to make the most reluctant bride swoon and Pippa just loved it. In her more indulgent moments she would imagine the women who had worn this dress as they walked down the aisle for the happiest day of their lives. She had a feeling she may weep if she ever actually sold it.

  Her two ‘bridesmaids’ were dressed - one, in a cute Seventies tennis outfit, so sassy it hurt, and, the other, in a Nineties outfit complete with dungarees and rainbow spiral cropped T-shirt and whistle. Both looked fab and provided complete contrast to the wedding dress. Everything else was set out on her rail, and she had laminated cards, that showed every conceivable outfit she had, all over the walls and on the table mixed in with various accessories.

  Lunch had been and gone and the rain had eased slightly, less frenetic but still present, which meant the ballroom was rammed. It seemed as if everyone who had considered going out for the day had decided an indoor venue was definitely the best idea. Sally’s children’s clothes were flying out, as were Beth’s printed lampshades and Carrie’s silver jewellery. Pippa had managed to sell an awful lot of stock, far more than she had anticipated and it was proving her most successful craft fair yet, and her mother was more than content, having fed most of the hall and having had compliments shower down upon her all morning. She was currently sat next to two large empty Tupperware containers, looking like the cat who had got the cream.

  ‘Dear god, how is a man supposed to breathe in here? This is insane. Far too many people with far too much time on their hands. Pippa, where are you?’ A man’s voice cut through the crowd and made Pippa freeze on the spot. She had just been congratulating herself on the sale of the most beautiful smocked top complete with floral embroidery, when she heard him. What on earth was James doing here? She flashed a quick look at her mother to see if she too had heard the familiar voice, but no, it appeared not. It would only be a matter of time.

  James appeared at the table, designer sunglasses perched atop his head despite the sun being very distinctly absent.

  ‘I don’t have any more time for playing games, Pippa. This is it. Now. I need you to stop playing coy, leave this and come with me. I’ve got a helicopter waiting on the pad on the roof, and we need to go, now. Now! Come on. You’re going to love where we’re going. Quick!’ He looked around agitatedly and Pippa fixed him with her fiercest look. It bounced off. What was he doing here?

  Did he still seriously think she was going to go with him? Even worse, this looked like he thought she would flee the blooming country with him. Wow!

  James continued, oblivious to her death glare. ‘Really, we need to go now. Hello, Jan.’ He spotted Pippa’s mum, ‘Perhaps you could take over here whilst Pippa comes with me.’

  James was pushed up against the table as the crowd surged a little and put his hand out onto the table to steady himself. Then wiped it on his trousers, as if he could catch old-stuff germs.

  Pippa glanced at her mum, unsure, for the first time in her life, of what her mother’s reaction would be. So far, she was being remarkably quiet

  James followed her look and grinned back at her smugly. He obviously thought that if his number one supporter was here then Pippa would be forced into compliance. He reached across the table to try and grab Pippa’s arm but, as he did so, four men, not your usual craft and vintage sale types, appeared behind James, one forcefully laying a hand on James’ shoulder.

  ‘Mr Carpenter, if you’d like to come with us.’ His deep voice resonated through the hall.

  ‘No, I bloody wouldn’t.’ He shot a furious look at Pippa before dropping his body down low and twisting to try and get out of the man’s hold. ‘This is your fault. I should have just gone.’ With the room so packed he had no way of getting through the crowds of people, now far more excited by the drama playing out in front of Pippa’s stall than they were by any lampshade.

  James twisted and turned further in an attempt to escape, but the whole room could see he didn’t have a hope. Another man grabbed hold of him and twisted him around, catching hold of his arms and attempting to cuff him. There was a flurry of arms as James tried to fight the men off. None of them however were prepared for Jan, who had been eerily quiet so far, suddenly coming to life and flinging herself from her chair armed with a Tupperware box.

  As James writhed and wriggled and the men continued to try and cuff him, Jan launched herself at him, trying to wallop him with her container.

  ‘Ma’am, please, stop… ma’am, we’ll have to restrain you.’

  ‘Mum, you’re not helping.’

  James did not know what had hit him. And Pippa wasn’t entirely sure either.

  The crowd stepped back and made room for what was unfolding. The men managed to get one of James’ hands in a cuff as another man tried to hold back Pippa’s mother, retired nurse and volunteer hospice carer, queen of the cakes and one-time chair of the WI. Despite their interference, Jan was managing to take a few good hard whacks at James with her Tupperware as she punctuated her attack with the words ‘pervert’, ‘disgrace’ and ‘filthy’.

  One of the detectives managed to peel her away and return her to Pippa, warning her to keep her mother under control unless she wanted to be visiting the police station herself, whilst the other three managed to finally contain James and read his rights.

  He wouldn’t be using that helicopter now.

  Pippa still stood frozen to the spot in shock at everything that had happened in such a short space of time. She stayed like that as the crowd parted to make way for the plain clothes policemen to lead James away and as her mother shot the room a triumphant glanc
e before returning to her chair and resuming her normal demure expression.

  As James was led out, hurling curse words over his shoulder and blaming Pippa for all his ills, Pippa started to giggle, the laughter coming over her in waves and feeling out of her control. She wondered if this was what shock was.

  The room had just gone from silent to the beginnings of murmuring, when suddenly another voice, loud and bold, pierced the whispers.

  ‘Woo-hoo. Hello, darling. We thought we’d nip by and take a look.’ And there, standing on tiptoes, with all her adult children standing behind her, was Geeta. It was Hema who piped up next, a great big mischievous grin on her face. ‘So, does this mean you’re single now?’

  * * *

  I imagine it’s been a long day but do you think we should set our mothers up as a wrestling team?

  You’re so bad.

  But not as bad as your mother! Should I be terrified?

  She was awesome, wasn’t she? The police should consider asking her to join. Didn’t work out so well for James though.

  What did they arrest him for?

  Not entirely sure, but I think it was to do with his work. Insider trading and so on. I had heard a whisper that they were after him. I didn’t expect him, or them, to show up today though!

  It could be seen as romantic that he risked his escape by coming to get you first.