by Jenny Kane
He and Dora were obviously happy and comfortable together. And why shouldn’t they be? Abi knew she minded, and she was cross with herself for minding. She was half looking forward to having the chance to talk to Max about it, and half dreading him thinking that she begrudged Stan’s happiness. Which she didn’t. Not for a second.
And yet…
‘Oh, Sadie, I’m being silly aren’t I!’ Abi gave the golden retriever a big hug. ‘Is it because I’ve got used to having Stan all to myself? That I’ve never had to share him before?’ She peered into the dog’s big brown eyes. ‘Is this how you felt when I came and disturbed your quiet life with Stan?’
Getting nothing but a half-hearted wag of the tail from Sadie, Abi sighed. ‘It isn’t that I don’t like Dora. I’m not sure how much of what she said about her life was true, but I still like her, and I can see why Stan does too. There’s so much life in her compared to most of the residents in the flats. You’d never guess she was eighty-five. And to see him so happy and settled is certainly a weight off my mind. I’ve never really forgiven myself for interrupting your lives here and…’
Abi broke off mid-sentence as she heard a sound behind her, and Max appeared via the kitchen doorway. ‘So this is where you’re hiding.’
‘Max!’ Abi got to her feet and ran into her boyfriend’s arms, becoming enveloped in his much larger frame. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘I’m not surprised; you were deep in conversation with this wise old girl here.’ Sadie was already on her feet, wagging her tail wholeheartedly at the arrival of the man who took her on the most interesting walks, and always gave her plenty of tasty snacks which were well off the list of sensible foods for dogs.
‘You don’t have to give me those puppy eyes, Sadie.’ Max dug a hand into his overall pocket and pulled out a doggy chew. ‘I’d never leave you out.’
‘Sadie gets a chew, what do I get?’ Abi fluttered her eyelashes at Max, who answered her question by re-engulfing her in one of his bear hugs, instantly making her feel safe as she shuffled her petite frame against his bulky one.
‘Better?’
‘I’d like to stay here a bit longer actually.’
Kissing the top of her head, Max said, ‘So, what’s been happening? What was the shock you mentioned? I was worried.’
Abi held him tight as she explained, ‘Shocks plural, I’m afraid. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you, Max. So much has happened so fast, and I guess I’ve got used to talking things out with you. I’ve missed you not being around.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it.’ A flicker of hope arose in Max’s chest. Perhaps he wasn’t so mad to consider asking Abi if she wanted them to live together. Keeping hold of her, he sat Abi on his lap on the garden bench and stroked her blonde ponytail through his fingers. ‘Tell me.’
‘The first thing is Stan.’
‘Oh God, he’s not ill is he?’
‘Not at all. In fact, I’ve never seen him look fitter or happier.’
Max frowned. ‘So what’s the problem then?’
Abi took a deep breath and, twisting around so she could see the reaction on Max’s face, said, ‘He’s getting married.’
‘What?’ Max couldn’t believe it. Was everyone out to steal his thunder? First Beth and Jacob had unwittingly gatecrashed his idea to celebrate the anniversary of Abi’s arrival, and now Stan had asked some old biddy to marry him, when he was sure everyone was expecting him to be asking Abi any minute now. Whether they were ready to or not…
‘Max? Are you with me?’ Abi was looking at him with concern.
‘Sorry…yes. I think I might be in shock as well. Are you serious, Abi?’
‘Very much so. I went over to St Buryan for my usual fortnightly dinner with Stan last night, but it wasn’t only me and Sadie with Stan. At first I thought Dora was just one of his new friends, but the way they looked at each other…it gave them away before they told me they were a couple. I hadn’t even got my head around that idea before they dropped the wedding bombshell.’
‘So, who is she, this Dora?’
‘Stan’s bridge partner.’
‘Did you like her?’
‘Yes, I did. She’s a lot of fun. But, Max…I know it sounds mean-spirited of me… and I am pleased Stan’s happy…but he’s eighty-nine!’
Max held her closer. ‘And I have no doubt you said all the right things, and made Stan feel OK about it?’
‘I hope so. He’s so thrilled by it all. I tried hard to keep the concern out of my eyes, and obviously I’d never want to spoil his joy. But…’
Max thought about Stan, and not for the first time was impressed by the old man’s zest for life. He sat up straighter and took Abi’s hand. ‘Tell me about Dora. I assume you asked her a lot of questions about herself?’
‘I didn’t ask much, to be honest. I was sort of stunned. I must have come across as a bit manic with my fixed smile by the end. I was like a rabbit in headlights.’
Moving so she was sat against Max’s side, Abi stretched her legs out along the bench while attempting to describe Stan’s girlfriend. ‘I got the impression Dora was a bit of a player in her day. You know I said she was Stan’s bridge partner? Well, she’s also something of a poker whizz. Stan called her a card shark.’
‘He probably didn’t mean that literally though.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
‘Stan’s not daft, Abi. His body may not be tip-top any more, but his brain is as sharp as ever. He wouldn’t be easily taken in.’ Max thought for a moment. His natural inclination was not to be negative about a person he’d never met, yet his protectiveness towards Stan made him say, ‘Although I suppose being good at cards would mean she’d be good at bluffing, then?’
‘That’s what’s bothering me.’ Abi couldn’t stop fidgeting and swung her leg back onto the floor, turning to face Max again. ‘You don’t think she’s conning Stan, do you?’
Max frowned, making the freckles on his face bunch into little lines across his forehead. ‘No. Well, I don’t think so. I haven’t met her though, have I, love, so I can’t be sure. But what would be the point of hurting him? If she’s as old as Stan, then she isn’t going to have that long to enjoy his money if she is out to steal it. Unless she has impoverished kids she wants to leave it to?’
‘She hasn’t got children, and for that matter, Stan hasn’t got much money. And what he has got is in trust for his daughter and grandchildren in Australia. He’d never change that arrangement, would he?’
‘No, he wouldn’t.’ Max shrugged. ‘It feels wrong even speculating like this. We don’t know Dora. And you say Stan is happy, which is the main thing, right?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘What did Beth say when you told her?’
Abi sighed. ‘I haven’t told her. I know I usually phone her the instant there’s any news, but this feels so big I wanted to talk to you first. Oh, Max, am I a horrible person?’
‘You’re a concerned friend. Stan has been so good to both of us, it’s natural you want to look out for him.’
‘Thanks.’ Abi kissed him. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘You too.’ Max traced a finger around his girlfriend’s face. ‘I want to hear lots more about Dora, and I am desperate for a vast mug of tea, but there is something I want even more than all that.’
Abi smiled knowingly. ‘And what would that be?’
‘I haven’t seen you for a fortnight, woman! My curiosity, and my desire for a decent cuppa, come a lot further down the list than seeing if you are as beautiful as I remember – from top to toe.’
Abi placed a mug of tea next to Max’s side of the bed, and climbed back in next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. ‘Dora told me quite a story. I suspect it was true – mostly – although I’m sure she did get a bit carried away on occasions.’
Lifting his tea to his lips, Max let Abi cuddle into his side. ‘Tell me as much as you can. We’ll worry about if it’s true later.’
Co
mfortable and safe against Max’s side, Abi told him Dora’s story. A tale that had made Abi sad at the time, and even as she retold it to Max now, she felt a lump form in her throat.
Dora had explained to Abi how she had married her first love, Gordon Henry, in 1950, when she was only eighteen years old. A Flight Lieutenant in the RAF, Gordon’s plane had been shot down during the Korean War. And so by the time she was twenty-one she was already a widow.
It had taken Dora many years to get over the shock, and when she had, she’d explained to Abi, she hadn’t seen any point in anything any more, so she’d taken on various dangerous jobs. The sort of jobs that, at the time, would never normally have been given to a woman. Just before she was twenty-five, she was picked for special training, and did secret work for government departments which, Dora had claimed, she wasn’t supposed to talk about.
‘No wonder she had no children. Poor woman.’ Max put his empty mug down. ‘She never got remarried?’
‘She said she’d never found anyone who was a patch on Gordon until she met Stan. I have to say, they were really sweet together.’
‘Do you buy all that “secret work” stuff?’
‘That’s the bit I suspect is embellished. I’ve heard people do that sort of thing when they experience grief young. They invent a means of escapism in their lives.’
‘Really? How do you –’
‘After Luke died I was given more unwanted advice than anyone ever has the right to receive, and…’
Max put his hand up. ‘I’m sorry. That was tactless of me.’
Abi kissed him softly. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing at all. But I love you for being sorry anyway.’
‘I love you too.’ Max’s stomach gave a loud rumble, making them both laugh, ‘My belly always did have a well-honed sense of timing! Very sexy, I don’t think!’
Abi, stroked his belly affectionately. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve been eating more than pub snacks for ages.’
‘True.’
‘Come on, let’s cook.’
Ten minutes later, as he peeled some potatoes for dinner, Max said, ‘I think I’d like to meet Dora myself, just to put my mind at rest.’
‘Well, that isn’t going to be a problem.’
‘It won’t?’
‘As I left Stan, I was called into the new care manager’s office; have you met Dan yet? He’s nice.’
‘Briefly, the last time I went. Sadie liked him, so that’s good enough for me. What did Dan want?’
‘I think he wanted to reassure me. He told me that Stan and Dora will be able to live together without any problems as far as the home was concerned. There are already some couples in residence, although most of them arrived together. I have to say, Dan did seem genuinely pleased for Stan and Dora. It’s good to know they have someone so kind keeping an eye out for them.’
‘And?’
‘And he wondered if you’d give him a hand helping with moving Dora’s stuff into Stan’s place. Some of her furniture is antique and quite heavy apparently.’
‘I thought you were joking! Seriously? They’re going to live together?’
Abi couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Why does that shock you? You look more put out by that than the idea of them getting married!’
‘Well, I guess I didn’t think it would actually happen. I mean, these things take years to arrange and they don’t exactly have time on their side.’
Abi smiled. ‘Then I think you should prepare yourself for another shock, Max.’
‘Go on.’
‘The wedding is next month.’
Chapter Five
Cassandra could barely contain her frustration and disappointment as she climbed into the taxi that had drawn up outside number two Miners Row.
Half an hour earlier, dressed far too provocatively to have been anything other than freezing cold in the thick-walled cottage, she had rushed to answer her doorbell. Expecting to see a suggestively grinning Justin, she had instead been confronted by an initially beaming, then blushing, delivery man. In one hand, he had the holdall of her clothes which Justin had promised he’d bring with him, and in the other, a huge bunch of flowers.
Muttering her thanks, Cassandra had hastily signed the proffered electronic device, closed the door again, and with her back pressed against the chilly hall wall, she’d read the card attached to the bouquet. Justin hadn’t even written it himself, but had got the florist – or worse, his secretary – to type it for him.
My Darling Cassandra, please forgive me. I was so looking forward to our first Cornish night together, but my new job demands me this weekend. I will see you soon, I promise. J xx
Flying upstairs to the room she’d spent a fairly sleepless night in, and determined not to cry, Cassandra had pulled on her only set of already unpacked casual clothes before running into the back garden so she could get a phone signal to call a cab. Then, sitting at the kitchen table while she waited the half an hour until the car was due to arrive, her heart thumping harder than it ever had, she fought the urge to scream.
Despite contacting every hotel and bed and breakfast in Sennen and nearby, she hadn’t been able to find an available room for the night in any of them, and had ended up staying in the house after all. Wishing she’d been less hostile to her neighbour, and had accepted the woman’s offer of clean linen, Cassandra angrily brushed away the tears that pricked at the corner of her eyes. If she didn’t get a grip then she was in danger of feeling sorry for herself.
‘But what am I supposed to do? I can’t keep myself locked away in here,’ she muttered as she stared down at the end of the garden, which she knew could be beautiful if she could be bothered to do anything about it – or, more realistically, if she could be bothered to employ a gardener to do anything about it.
She’d only come to Sennen in the first place because Justin had been so excited about their new start together. Cassandra had never imagined that start would begin with her hundreds of miles away from her lover, in a clapped-out house with none of the comforts and amenities she took for granted in London.
Hating how lonely and out of routine she felt, Cassandra abruptly stood up and began to visit each room in the house. The sooner she pulled herself together and got this place habitable, the sooner Justin would put it up for rent, and they could plan a proper future together.
Telling herself to be realistic, and that it wasn’t that unreasonable that Justin was required to work a weekend so soon after his promotion, Cassandra started to make a list of everything that had to be bought for the house. Quickly feeling better for being productive, she soon realised it was going to be a lengthy list despite the fact there were only two tiny bedrooms, one bathroom, a lounge-diner and a kitchen. Top of the list, she wrote, bed linen.
An hour later, blindly staring at the Cornish scenery as it disappeared and reappeared between the high hedges that sporadically lined the roads the taxi travelled the long miles to Truro, Cassandra made another list. A private one for her own sanity.
1. Call Justin
2. Rent a car
3. Find a hairdresser
‘Are you sure you haven’t taken a wrong turn?’ Cassandra addressed the cabbie as she glared at her watch accusingly. ‘This journey seems to be taking for ever.’
With the patience of someone used to ferrying unrealistic tourists around, the driver replied with steady practicality, ‘I’ve been driving this route for longer than you’ve been on this earth, me ’andsome. It always takes over an hour to drive to Truro. I’m sure they’d ’ave told ’ee that when ’ee booked the ride.’
‘I thought they were joking.’
‘This is Cornwall. This is how it is, me ’andsome.’
Cassandra bit her lip, refraining from sharing her own opinion about Cornwall with a man whose relaxed acceptance was more annoying than if he’d got cross with her for being impatient.
Resting against the car seat, resigning herself to at least another twenty minutes, Cassandra took her note
book from her bag and re-read the list of things that needed doing to the house, and added Find a cleaner/decorator/gardener to the top.
It never ceased to amaze Cassandra how a haircut could make her feel better about life. Her previously long blonde hair was now a neat bob, its ends feathered to take away the severity of the cut.
Relaxed with a perfectly crafted latte outside a small Italian coffee shop, with the June sunshine playing around the skin of her newly revealed neck and shoulders, Cassandra let out a slow, and utterly unexpected, mutter of contentment. Perhaps, if she could schedule time here in Truro, then her temporary exile to the foot of England would be much more bearable.
Passing a hand through her hair, getting used to the fact that it stopped six inches shorter than it used to, she wondered what Justin would think of it. For the past six years as his mistress she’d had hair that hung halfway down her back. Would he like her new style? She hoped so; she loved how soft it felt, and so Justin should as well.
Gazing up at the cloudless blue sky, listening to the comforting bustle of shoppers as they passed by, Cassandra found herself smiling for the first time since her arrival. She wouldn’t tell him about her hair; it would be a nice surprise for next weekend.
A new optimism took hold. If she could find the help she required to get the house decorated, then she could book into a hotel in Truro, or perhaps Penzance, which wasn’t such a distance from Sennen, and leave the house keys with the workmen. Picturing the terrace, mentally scanning the rooms, Cassandra found herself unexpectedly taking pleasure in visualising how each space could look after she’d imposed her will upon it.
Checking her watch and judging that Justin would be having his usual gastropub lunch about now, Cassandra picked up her mobile and dialled his number.
‘Darling! Did you like your flowers?’
Justin sounded so delighted to hear from her that any lingering doubts that Cassandra had about him not coming to see her were instantly extinguished. ‘I loved them, although I’d rather it had been you holding them, and not some sweaty courier.’
