‘He can’t help it. Fen says he’s been neutered, but some cats can still spray,’ she said as Leo pummelled her favourite hoodie with his claws.
‘Well, I hope he has been,’ said Jake, adding in a loud voice, ‘If not, it would do him good to have his bits removed.’
‘I can think of someone else who’d benefit from having his balls cut off,’ Poppy muttered while Jake fetched the Dettol.
‘What?’ Jake looked up sharply from the kitchen cupboard.
She groaned. ‘Not you. Absolutely not you.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He smiled and came over and squirted the table with Dettol. ‘Are you referring to your ex?’
‘How did you guess?’ Wrinkling her nose, Poppy wiped the table furiously. ‘Actually, I’d just heard that his new woman is pregnant when you came in.’
‘Oh. Shit.’
‘They posted it on Facebook. With pictures.’
Jake rolled his eyes. ‘He probably has no idea you’ve seen it.’
He had now, thought Poppy in dismay. He’d get a notification that she’d had Liked it, even though she’d now Unliked it. Too late. She should have unfriended him, she thought. Dan hadn’t unfriended her either though …
‘I don’t know,’ she said, not wanting to let Jake know about Leo’s blunder. She replaced the laptop on the table and Jake nodded at the screen.
‘He hasn’t been with this woman very long, has he?’
‘He moved in with Eve just over a month ago on the day he told me he’d been having an affair,’ said Poppy, still cringing. ‘He’d already moved out a lot of his stuff while I was at work because I think he was worried I might burn all his things or throw them at him … Now it turns out that Eve’s five months pregnant, so he must have been having the affair for a while before then. It could have been years for all I know.’
Jake pulled a face. ‘That’s tough. I’m so sorry.’
She shrugged, fighting back tears as she threw the dirty kitchen roll in the bin. She didn’t want Jake to see her face, but she had to get a grip. ‘It’s life. I’m here now and I’m determined to make a go of things.’
Jake winced and caught sight of the screen. He took a closer look at the offending post. ‘Expecting a little miracle? Immaculate conception, is it?’
He was so deadpan, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing. ‘Who knows with Dan. He always did think he was clever.’ A thought occurred that didn’t make her feel any better. ‘He might have wanted me to see that post, of course. I’m sure Eve would.’
‘From what you’ve told me, and what I’ve seen, I’d go with the “clueless” angle, rather than a cunning plan,’ said Jake.
Poppy laughed again.
‘At least you’re smiling. That’s progress.’
She caught her breath in surprise. ‘It is, I suppose.’
‘Because I’m guessing, where Dan is concerned, you’ve felt like crying far more often.’
Poppy looked at him. She was momentarily lost for words by his gentle tone and his insight into her feelings. But then … Jake must know more about loss than she could ever imagine.
‘It’s OK to be angry and hurt sometimes, you know. Most of the time, in fact.’ He smiled. ‘You don’t have to put on a front, Poppy. It’s exhausting.’
She couldn’t possibly have discussed such emotive issues with any other guy, or even her parents, but Jake had given her permission to be herself.
‘Thanks, and you’re right. Eve being pregnant is a nasty shock.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘Dan seemed keen on us having kids initially and I thought that was one of the main reasons he wanted to move here. I must admit that since Christmas, whenever it came up, he changed the subject. I just thought that once we’d got the stress of moving over, we’d think about it seriously again.’
‘And what about you?’
‘I’d like one – or two – one day, but my one day was probably sooner than Dan was planning. Or not, judging by that post.’ She couldn’t help thinking about the post again. How long had they actually been having an affair? How long had she been duped? If Eve was five months gone, Dan must have been sleeping with her for months before he told Poppy he was leaving. That thought cut deep, but she tried to put it aside.
‘It’s not easy, finding someone who shares the things that really matter, or loves you enough to set aside or change their dreams to help you have yours.’ Jake’s tone was soft as if he was treading on eggshells.
Leo appeared by his side, rubbing his fur along his legs, but Jake didn’t seem to have even noticed.
‘It’s a miracle that we even find one person, let alone that some people find two,’ she said.
‘Not a miracle. Impossible,’ said Jake.
She could tell he was struggling with memories. Should she ask him more about Harriet? Was it selfish to only focus on herself? Or was it best to wait for him to tell her about his fiancée if and when he wanted to?
Not that there was much time left for that kind of discussion. Once again, she felt a shiver of sadness that Jake would be leaving soon, even though she’d only known him a few days. Then again, she was probably relying on him too much already, like a baby bird needing feeding. Even as she thought about it, she had to stifle a giggle at the image.
‘Something funny?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘Only Dan’s silly moustache. He looks like an extra from Ripper Street,’ she said, hoping her fib had fooled Jake and he didn’t think she’d been making light of his own worries.
He nodded and a smile crept onto his lips. ‘I must admit that ’tache is extremely sad. Now, enough of these gloomy thoughts. You might be wondering about the reason I came over. I need to ask you two favours. One, I was wondering if you fancied coming to the pub for dinner? I thought you might be knackered after all that work and not feel like cooking. You must have been up very early and, frankly, I’m so hungry, I could eat Leo. Which will make a change from him trying to eat me.’
She laughed again, while Leo let out a yawn. ‘I was up early, and you’re right, the pub sounds great.’ In fact, it sounded perfect. She was much too tired to cook and would probably have resorted to a bowl of cereal. Strangely, though, she had enough energy to walk to the pub.
‘I also thought it would be a good opportunity to meet some of the locals, if you can face it.’ He grinned. ‘It’s Darts Night. You should catch a bunch of them all at once. Call it a baptism of fire.’
‘That sounds nerve-racking, but I do want to get to know everyone. I can’t play darts, though.’
Jake nodded. ‘In that case, you’ll be a massive hit.’ He paused and his tone became more serious. ‘But, first, there’s something else I wanted to ask you.’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you mind loaning me that key? I think I need to have a better look at what’s in Grandpa’s drawer. I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a pint after that.’
Chapter 11
Jake pushed the key into the lock.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to do this alone?’ Poppy asked him.
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s fine.’ He tried a smile, because he guessed he might need a sense of humour as well as a pint. ‘The studio is technically your place now and I can’t believe Grandpa had anything to hide but … wait until you see for yourself.’
Plus, he reasoned, now that Poppy had seen his reaction when he’d opened the drawer the previous day, there wasn’t much point in hiding away what he’d glimpsed. It would have seemed a bit underhand. Also, strangely enough, he felt that if there was one person with whom he could share the secrets that might be inside, Poppy might be it. She was a stranger with no ties or baggage linked to anyone on St Piran’s and instinct told him he could trust her. She was certainly one of the very few people he’d felt he might ever be able to open up to about the loss of Harriet … About the terrible moments before she’d been knocked unconscious and fallen into the sea and about the guilt that raged in his mind that he’d neve
r come to terms with – not only surrounding the circumstances of the accident but their whole lives together.
Jake and Harriet. Harriet and Jake. The perfect couple, crazily in love, made for each other: perfect candidates for the kind of smug and thoughtless social media post that he knew had upset Poppy far more than she was letting on. That ‘Instagrammable’ image was the one that everyone around them bought into, even Fen and Grandpa Archie. Except it wasn’t quite true, was it? The impression that outsiders got wasn’t the complete picture, just a version that Jake and Harriet had shown to the world while they battled with problems that were too personal to share with anyone else.
But he’d be leaving St Piran’s soon, unsure if and when he’d ever return, so those thoughts would thankfully stay buried unless he decided to open up completely to Poppy, but now wasn’t the time for that. He had other secrets to uncover first.
He found the drawer easier to open than previously. Poppy stood on the other side of the table, where Fen had watched them the day before. He took out the bundles of invoices and paperwork and laid them on the table. Finally, he pulled out the sketches.
Each was exquisite in its own way and each had his grandfather’s trademark style and his passion for the subject shone through every line.
Jake pushed the sketch pad towards Poppy. ‘I wasn’t imagining it.’
She rested her fingers on the edge of it. ‘Oh.’
‘Yeah. That’s what I thought.’
‘It is her, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. It can’t be anyone else. Grandpa is too good an artist not to have captured her perfectly.’ Inside and out, thought Jake, seeing the joyous light in the model’s eyes and the uninhibited, almost hedonistic, pose.
‘It’s a beautiful drawing. Your grandpa was – is – a wonderful artist. Even in this sketch, he’s captured Fen perfectly.’
‘Yes, he has … all of her.’
She let out a giggle, then held her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. I don’t find it funny, really. Fen’s a lovely person and she’s beautiful in this sketch. She still is beautiful, but it’s hard to see her like this.’
‘You mean naked? How do you think I feel? She’s practically my surrogate grandmother.’ A horrible realisation hit Jake in the guts. ‘My God. How old do you think Fen is in this picture?’
‘I don’t know.’ Poppy pulled the drawing towards her. ‘Fifty, maybe? Possibly a little younger?’
‘That’s what I thought.’ He let out a sigh of relief. ‘So, these must have been done years ago, but after my Grandma Ellie passed away.’
‘When was that?’ Poppy asked.
‘Nineteen seventy-three. She had a brain haemorrhage.’
‘Your poor grandpa!’
‘I know. Her sudden death must have almost broken him and been terrible for Dad because he was only thirteen when he lost his mum. Wait a minute …’ Jake went back to the drawer. He’d always thought his grandfather and Fen were more than ‘just good friends’ and this pointed to the kind of close relationship he’d suspected. On the other hand, artists and their models didn’t have to be in a romantic or sexual relationship of any kind, even when the model was nude. In fact, all artists had to know how to depict the human form.
He’d been commissioned to take photos of women of all ages himself – although always or most often clothed. He could honestly say that he’d seen them only as subjects for his camera. It was his job and he’d always separated his appreciation for them from the way he’d felt about Harriet or previous girlfriends.
He risked a glance at Poppy as she studied the drawing of Fen. He liked the way her hazel brown hair curled onto her shoulders, he loved her eyes and her body, of course – and not in a strictly professional way, he had to admit. He liked her tendency to speak first and think later and the way she had tried and failed not to laugh at the drawing. He couldn’t stop looking at her when he was with her or thinking about her when he was alone. Like first thing this morning.
He’d told himself these were all normal, natural feelings for a single guy who hadn’t felt this way – or allowed himself to feel this way – about another woman for almost three years. Nothing pervy or weird about them, but somehow, because he was leaving soon, they felt wrong, like a betrayal or a voyeurism, and he felt ashamed.
Dragging his eyes from Poppy, he pulled a few more bits of paperwork from the drawer and at the rear found several more sketches. His heart beat faster as he brought them into the light.
‘Oh f-f …’
They were all of Fen, and all nudes. Two seemed to be studio-based, but one was drawn outdoors, Jake guessed. At first, he hadn’t been quite sure it was Fen, but a date and an inscription on the reverse left no doubt.
‘What?’ Poppy asked.
‘I’m not sure. I wish I’d never seen these. Any of them.’ He pushed the sketches away and they slid along the table.
‘May I?’ she said quietly.
‘I – why not? It’s too late to put the demon back in the box now.’
Poppy glanced at the first two sketches showing Fen sitting on a chair in the studio and lying face down on a couch draped with a cloth. Archie hadn’t romanticised her. You could tell it was the body of a middle-aged woman, and there were lines on the face.
‘They’re still beautiful pictures, even if it’s a bit of a shock that they’re of Fen,’ she said. ‘I think they’re quite moving. You can see the tenderness in every line … but these …’ Poppy’s voice trailed off. ‘Oh, I see what you mean.’ She’d picked up the last sketch of Fen lying naked in the dunes, with one hand flung behind her head.
It was the one that had shocked Jake the most. His grandfather had clearly spent more time on it, adding in details such as wild agapanthus growing in the dunes behind his model’s hair, which was spread out like a mermaid’s. In her other hand, she held a shell. Archie had even sketched in a palette, a few inches from her curled fingers, as if he wanted to hint at his closeness to his model. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes suffused with – God, he dare not even think it …
‘She looks blissfully happy,’ said Poppy.
‘And young,’ said Jake. ‘Have you read the back of the sketch yet?’
‘No.’ She turned it over. ‘Hmm. I did wonder about the date. She can only be in her twenties …’
‘That date confirms it. And there’s the title in his own writing. “The Siren Fen, in Petroc Dunes. 1966.” Grandpa was married to my grandma, then. She’d only just had my dad. He and Fen must have been having an affair.’
Jake felt slightly sick. His grandpa had always been his idol, even though Jake knew he wasn’t perfect. He could be blunt, he liked a drink, to say the least, and he put his painting before almost everything else – not to mention cutting himself off from his own son after Grandma Ellie had died. Now, he knew why. Archie had felt guilty. Guilty about having it away with Fen – God knows how long that had gone on. Oh Christ, had his grandma known about the affair? Was it better or worse if she had?
‘This doesn’t mean anything, Jake.’ Poppy’s voice sliced into his unspoken thoughts. ‘Fen might only have been his model. His muse.’
‘Then why did he write that she was a siren? You know what the sirens did?’
‘Weren’t they the beautiful women who lured sailors to their doom on the rocks with their singing? You’re reading too much into these drawings. The sirens were mythical and I can’t imagine Fen ever wanting to cause your family pain. I haven’t known her long, but she seems far too kind and considerate.’
‘You’ve no idea what people can be like in this bloody place. You’ve no idea what some are hiding behind the perfect veneers. No one’s ever what they seem!’ The violence of his own words startled him. ‘Ignore me. That was well out of order.’
‘It’s OK. I can understand why you’re upset by seeing these drawings.’ She spoke softly as if she was stepping on hot coals.
He was ashamed of his outburst. ‘I shouldn’t have react
ed like that. Grandpa and Fen are only human and it’s their business what they did. Oh God. Should I tell her about these? They are of her and rightfully, perhaps, I should give them to her.’
‘Won’t she be embarrassed? Especially if … you know …’ Poppy pointed at the ‘Siren Fen’ ‘… they actually were in a secret relationship.’
‘Yeah. That’s true. I’d probably be better off taking them and locking them away in Grandpa’s cottage. I don’t even know if Fen knows he kept them.’
‘Maybe you could ask her?’ said Poppy.
‘No! I wouldn’t dare.’
‘Hmm. True. I don’t think I could ask my grandma if she’d been having an affair with her neighbour and posed for nude pictures,’ Poppy said it deadpan. Jake opened his mouth. He saw her smiling wryly. ‘Maybe you’re right. I had absolutely no suspicions that Dan was shagging Eve.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I hope to God he’s not painting her in the nude and going to post it on Facebook.’
Jake pulled a face, then had to smile. ‘I’m probably being prudish, which is ironic considering it’s the twenty-first century and I’m meant to be tolerant and liberal. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m worried Grandpa and Fen might have hurt my grandma, I’d say good for him.’
She handed him the sketches. ‘I think you’re right to lock them away for now and see what happens or what Archie says in the meantime. He might mention them at some point and then you won’t have to ask.’
He nodded and put the sketches inside an old folder, wondering if he’d ever dare ask his grandpa about them or even if he should. Archie probably never expected anyone to find them, and might even have forgotten they existed, although judging by the pleasure on Fen’s face, that might also be unlikely.
‘And after you’ve put them safely away, shall we go to the pub?’ Poppy’s eyes sparkled. Actually, Grandpa would have called them ‘Caspian blue’, but they reminded Jake of the deep ocean on the wild Atlantic side of St Piran’s. The sea where he’d lost Harriet …
Jake shook himself out of his memories. ‘Best idea I’ve heard all day.’
Summer on the Little Cornish Isles Page 12
