From: Jayne
Date: 7 September 2014
Subject: Did it!
I did it. I surfed! :) Well, I sat on the board, fell off a few times then sat some more and just watched, but I’m sure that counts, doesn’t it? I really enjoyed myself. I’m so glad I made the decision to come here. It’s somewhere I’d love to come back to. I’m rambling, sorry. How has your day been?
J xx
I didn’t receive a reply that day and, although that itch to keep checking my laptop was still there, I made a point of taking a walk up to see Nora and Jim. With Dini on a lead, much to his disgust, we set off up the lane.
“Morning, Jayne. Bring him in,” I heard Nora call out.
The front door to the shop was open to allow the summer breeze to waft through; she had seen me looking for a suitable place to tie his lead to, I imagined.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, come on in. I’ll put the kettle on.”
The shop stocked everything from food to fuses—a complete general store. A few tourists were browsing the shelves and a couple of locals leaned against the counter chatting. I was introduced to them.
With a cup of tea in hand, I joined the conversation.
“Are you here on your holidays?” I was asked.
“I am. I used to come here all the time as a child. I love the place.”
“You’re staying at the Turner’s place? Shame that’s closed up so much,” another said.
I had been under the impression the locals were not overly fond of homes being bought up for holidays but I guessed if the cottages were used, they would be happier.
I stayed and chatted for a half hour, even helping an elderly lady pack her bag, before heading back to the cottage and then took another walk along the beach. Dini bounded ahead jumping in and out of the waves as they broke on the sand.
It was with trepidation that I entered the restaurant. I’d never eaten out alone and took a book to occupy myself in case I was sitting on my own. I needn’t have worried though. A table had been laid towards the back and I was waved over. Within minutes I fell in love with the place. The staff wore jeans and t-shirts, and there was casualness among the busyness. The restaurant was full of diners and I could appreciate the popularity. Two walls were glass and overlooked the beach. As I sat and the sun set, silhouettes of surfers could be seen.
“Hey, my favourite lady is here,” I heard.
Scott stopped at my side and handed me a menu. The restaurant served a wonderful selection of fresh, local fish and meats.
“What do you fancy?” Scott asked, taking our orders himself.
I chose the restaurants ‘famous’ crab bisque to start and then their equally famous salt baked bream to follow. How famous the dishes were, I wasn’t sure but that’s what it said on the menu. At first I listened to the boys, their banter and laughter reminded me of times when Ben would bring friends home. It hit me with a jolt that in latter years that had stopped. Neither Ben or Casey brought anyone to visit, and I wondered if the tension in the house had been that noticeable.
“Greg tells me you did good today,” Scott said when he’d returned with our drinks.
“Then I think he was being very kind,” I said with a laugh.
“No, seriously, most people can’t even sit on the board. At least you managed that for an hour,” Greg said with a wink.
I loved that they felt comfortable enough to tease, and I found it really easy to have a conversation with them. It seemed strange. I was twice their age and had only met them for a brief time but felt like I’d known them for ages.
We talked about everything; their lives back in Australia, my reason for being in Cornwall, my kids, my separation, the dog, their girlfriends (of which there were many), and life in general. We laughed, we drank beer and ate the wonderful food. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
With the evening over, I planned to make the walk back along the beach. Greg had other ideas.
“No way, it’s too dark,” he said. “I have the truck.”
We piled out and into the back of the red lifeguard’s truck, sitting on the metal floor and holding on as he roared back along the beach. I was sure it shouldn’t have been allowed and wondered if the misuse of the truck would land him in trouble. But with the wind whipping my hair across my face, the warm night air rushing around us, I felt wonderful. I felt young, I wanted to stand at the cab and have my ‘Titanic’ moment but my forty-five year old brain urged me to hold on to the sides of the truck tighter.
I was dropped off at the bottom of the cottage garden, and with a wave I climbed the steps to the back door.
“Tomorrow, eight o’clock,” Greg shouted as they drove away.
I shook my head and laughed. Opening the back door, I let Dini join me as I sat in the garden. I sent a text to Ben to tell him about the guys and how much he would love being here.
A wave of tiredness washed over me. I guessed the surfing, the sea air, the beer, and a stomach full of food had caught up with me. I made a cup of tea, took my book and laptop up to bed for an early night.
As I lay under the covers, I rested the laptop on my thighs and opened a blank document. I wanted to type up my thoughts and experiences so I could remember when I got home. I added some of the photographs I’d taken, creating a pictorial diary, and when I was done, I shut it down and turned off the bedside lamp.
Dini barking and a banging on the back door woke me the following morning. I threw on my shorts and a t-shirt before rushing downstairs. Greg was standing at the back door. He smiled when he saw me through the glass.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I opened the back door.
“No, I need your help. Can you spare a couple of hours? Trish has upped and left the shop. I need someone to cover while I’m teaching. Please? I’ll buy you lunch?” He held his hands together in prayer, tilted his head to one side and gave me a goofy grin.
“I’m not even dressed,” I said, laughing but panicking.
“You’ll do. Come on, I have coffee and cake.”
“I don’t know anything about surfing.”
“Neither does anyone who comes in, remember?”
I laughed. “Okay, let me get my bag at least.”
I grabbed my bag, phone and keys, a bowl and some food for Dini, and then we set off.
“What do I have to do?” I asked as we walked along the beach.
“Just answer the phone, book people in for lessons, that kind of stuff.”
“What if someone asks a question?”
“Tell them I’ll call them back or make it up,” he added with a laugh.
As we approached the surf school, which was an oversized beach hut, Tom was waiting with arms outstretched.
“Man, you’re late,” he said.
“I know. Jayne’s gonna step in. Trish has left.”
“Cool, now help me get this open.”
The guys unlocked the padlocks on either side of a large wooden shutter, which they then raised and propped open. I set down Dini’s bowl so he at least got breakfast. The door was pinned open and we walked inside. At one end was a counter; I stepped around it and placed my bag on a shelf underneath. I took a look around to familiarise myself. It was a mess of paperwork, pieces of equipment and food of a questionable date.
Immediately we had three people arrive for the first surf lesson of the day. I stood with Greg and listened, watched as he booked them in. It was simple enough; take their details and payment, size them up for a wetsuit if they didn’t have their own, then send them outside to wait. Greg would hand over their boards from a selection he’d lined up outside against the hut wall.
With the first group gone and Tom already surfing, I set about to tidy up and create some order. I found a couple of old box files and separated up the paperwork into receipts and invoices, filing them in date order. I cleaned the counter, the shelving, and then found a mop and bucket to wash the sandy floor.
“Wow, looks like a new place,” I heard.
I hadn’t realised the time I’d spent cleaning. Greg stepped back in, ignoring the scowl I gave as his wet sandy feet left a trail across the newly washed floor.
“No phone calls but, as you can see, I’ve tidied up.”
“Scott is bringing breakfast and coffee. We have a kitchen of sorts. I forgot to show you.”
“I found it. I have all the cups in soak at the moment. I don’t believe they’ve been washed up for a while.”
He laughed. “I’m gonna call you mum while you’re here.”
I showed him what I’d done with the paperwork, and he showed me how the till worked. Scott arrived with bacon rolls and cardboard cups of coffee. I sat with the guys outside in the rickety plastic chairs around a couple of tables desperately in need of a clean.
Before he’d finished his coffee, Greg was off again with the second class of the day. I carried on with the cleaning, took a couple of calls and quoted from a brochure I’d found before booking them in. I enjoyed myself; it was fun watching the guys come and go.
“Mum, want some lunch?” I heard. I was rehanging the wetsuits in size order, shorties on one rail and long on another.
“Yes, please. Let me grab my purse.”
“On me. Be back in a minute.”
I chuckled at the ‘mum’.
By the end of the day, all the guys were calling me mum, some of the customers were calling me mum and I was exhausted. I helped Greg cash out and as we locked up, he handed over some cash.
“Wages,” he said with a smile.
“I don’t want your money. I was just helping out.”
“Ah, but can you help out tomorrow?”
“I can but I don’t want paying. I’m enjoying myself.”
I walked back to the cottage, thinking. I had intended to just have a holiday not spend each day doing chores, but I realised I was doing something I actually enjoyed for people that appreciated it.
After a quick shower I settled at the kitchen table with a salad and opened my laptop. I’d received a couple of emails.
To: Jayne
From: Stefan
Date: 9 September 2014
Subject: Go you!
Way to go! You’ll be a surf dude, or should that be dudette, before you know it. I’m sorry I didn’t reply yesterday, been in meetings for two days. I’m exhausted and in need of a break.
S xx
To: Stefan
From: Jayne
Date: 9 September 2014
Subject: :(
Don’t apologise for not replying, I know you’re busy. I hope the meetings were productive but maybe you do need to think of having a day or so off. Take that bike out for a road trip. :)
J xx
The second email I opened spoilt my day.
To: Jayne
From: Michael
Date: 9 September 2014
Subject: Credit Card
I noticed that you were able to take a holiday. I trust you’ll make arrangements to pay the fee from the credit card.
Regards, Michael
“Prick!” I shouted to the screen.
He could more than afford the few hundred pounds I’d spent on the cottage rental. He thought nothing of spending twice that on a meal out with his friends once a month, playing the big ‘I am’. I slammed the laptop shut without responding. I’d pay that off. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d provided a holiday for me while he lived it up in Japan or London, or wherever the fuck he was.
The rest of the week passed by too quickly. I spent another day helping the boys, an afternoon chatting with Nora and even serving an elderly customer when Nora made yet more tea, and plenty of walks on the beach. My last night was spent having dinner at Life’s A Beach with them all.
I reluctantly packed the car up; Jim unpacked and repacked it to ensure everything was safely loaded. It was with sadness that I drove away with promises to return and a list of email addresses in my purse so we could keep in contact. Nora had offered to put me up and insisted I visit again. I felt like I’d made some firm friends in just that one week. The boys would be heading back to Australia at the end of the month, the season over, and I was looking forward to hearing of their adventures white water rafting back home.
The house felt empty and cold when I’d finally arrived back home. Although still September, the weather in Kent had taken a dramatic turn for the worse. Once I’d unpacked the car, I opened the fridge and smiled. Someone had stocked it for my return. I sent a text to both Ben and Carla, letting them know that I had arrived home safely and then decided to email Casey. It seemed to be the easiest way to contact her.
To: Casey
From: Mum
Date: 13 September 2014
Subject: I’m home
Hi, darling. I’m home from Cornwall. Had a lovely time and guess what? I learnt to surf, sort of! When you’re home next, I’d love for you to come back with me. It was a wonderful cottage and I spent most of my time with the surf instructors and an elderly couple who owned the local shop. I even manned the surf school for a couple of days. Let me know you’re okay. I miss talking to you.
Love, mum xx
I settled down with my phone and decided to call mum. Although we had chatted a couple of times during the week, our calls had always been brief. Once I’d managed to get past the gatekeeper that was Aunt Margie, I had a long conversation with mum. She chuckled when I explained that Margie seemed reluctant to hand the phone over.
“I think she’s probably bored of listening to me. I imagine she enjoyed a change of voice,” she said.
“I’d really love for you to come to Cornwall with me, the cottage was amazing. I have some great photographs to show you.”
“We’ll see. I’m not sure I can without your dad, but let me think on it.”
I hadn’t thought mum might struggle to revisit the place that held so many memories of dad for her. I’d felt closer to him during my time there, I had a sense of ‘approval’ from him. He’d be turning in his grave if he thought we’d stopped living just because he had.
Once our conversation was over, I headed to bed. It was as I climbed under the covers that the loneliness hit. I’d escaped for a week, been living a fantasy and now that I was home, reality hit. I needed to find work and make some decisions on my future. It was with a heavy heart that I fell asleep.
September turned into October and with it the weather became decidedly autumnal. Winds blew, rattling the windowpanes and brought heavy rain. Stefan and I emailed maybe once a week, and I missed the frequency of the previous months. He’d told me he was pitching for a really large project. It would take him out of the office a lot and if they got the contract, he’d be working seven days a week for a month or so. I didn’t want to keep disturbing him but I missed our chats.
I tried to call and email Casey a few times; I never received a reply. In the end I resorted to the one thing I didn’t want to do. I asked Ben to intervene. He sent her a text message, which resulted in a rather snotty reply.
Mother, I’m working 18 hours a day right now. I’m sorry I’m not able to keep answering your messages. Dad and I will be back in the UK mid November, and I’ll be sure to make some time to visit.
My heart broke a little at her message. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve that response. I’d only wanted to keep in contact with my daughter. As the winter drew in, so my moods started to fall. Ben was my godsend.
“Hi, Mum. Thought I’d pop in for a coffee,” he called out one morning as he walked through the front door.
“Hey, it’s great to see you. How’s Kerry?”
“Moaning that she’s getting fat,” he replied with a laugh.
I didn’t want to rely on my son and Carla for company all the time but they seemed to be all I had.
“We have a problem. Our landlord wants to increase the rent, and we can’t afford it.”
“That’s not fair. Can you appeal?”
“We tried, but according to the agent, what he’s
asking for is market value. We need to find somewhere to move to and pretty soon.”
“Why don’t you move back in here? I have all this space.”
“I was kind of hoping you’d suggest that,” he said with a laugh.
“Well why not just say in the first place. This is your home whenever you want it.”
“What do you think ‘he who must be obeyed’ will say?”
“I don’t care what he says. This is my house as much as his. If I want you to stay, then you will.”
“That’s brilliant, thanks, Mum. Kerry has been in pieces over it all.”
“Tell her not to worry. We can turn the small room into a nursery, you and Kerry can take the other one. It will be exciting,” I said.
“Here’s the other thing: we need to move next week.”
“Okay, we best get cracking then. What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing really. We have some friends who will help us move.”
We made plans for furniture storage and clearing out the bedrooms, getting ready for their things. Once Ben had left, I decided to email Michael.
To: Michael
From: Jayne
Date: 10 October 2014
Subject: Holiday and house
Just to let you know I saw your email. I didn’t respond because, quite frankly, I couldn’t be arsed to. Ben and Kerry are moving into the house. Not that I need your permission, just letting you know in case you wish to actually get in touch with him.
Jayne
I bit my nails after I’d pressed send. He’d be pissed off with my email but he hadn’t spoken to Ben in months and he never enquired about Kerry or his impending grandchild.
It was as I was about to close down my laptop that I received another email.
To: Jayne
From: Stefan
Date: 10 October 2014
Subject: Got the contract and a holiday!
Hey, J. Guess what? I got the contract. It took months of negotiations but it’s a huge deal for me. And I booked a holiday. I’ll have this project wrapped up end of November, or at least in a position where I can take a week off, so I booked a week in a wonderful cottage on a beach. ;) Say that you’ll join me…
A Virtual Affair Page 14
