‘That’s a great idea …’
Pippa’s mention of being on holiday triggered off more ideas. Maybe Poppy could offer weekend breaks and holidays with courses. Perhaps she could set up deals with local B&Bs or the Petroc Resort. She could talk to the St Piran’s B&B owner, and the Hell Cove Cottages on Gull Island. In fact, she would email all the upmarket and boutique accommodation providers tomorrow. She could even phone Hugo … Or maybe not.
But the idea of the workshops and holidays had taken root. She’d speak to a couple of her ‘stable’ who might be interested in leading workshops. She was a bit late to the party now it was May, but there was still time to set something up for later in the summer and start spreading the word on the tourism and craft forums and websites.
Buzzing with inspiration, she was swept off by a couple she didn’t recognise. They turned out to be a retired headmistress and surgeon who ‘dabbled in their spare time’ and wanted to show her their work, saying it was ‘just like some of the pictures on the walls, only more upmarket’ and ‘aimed at a more discerning clientele’. Poppy’s heart sank like a stone when the headmistress proudly declared she’d won a prize in her local art group competition for her watercolour of a chihuahua. They showed her some shots on their phones and Poppy managed to cover her dismay by gently but firmly insisting she liked to have diversity in the gallery rather than too many similar artists.
To her immense relief, Jake must have spotted her trapped in the corner by the chihuahua couple. He made his way over and said she was needed urgently outside. The chihuahua artists left muttering, as Jake ushered her towards the work area.
When she was finally out of the melee, Poppy took a few breaths of air. ‘I think I’ve offended that couple,’ she said.
He shrugged. ‘I’m afraid it’s part of the job to disappoint people. You’ll get used to it. I have people showing me their shots all the time, sending me emails, and while some of them are great, most of the people simply think they’ll get rich quick from taking a few snaps with their fancy new camera.’
She laughed, then became serious. ‘I haven’t had chance to tell you yet, but the photos you took – they’re incredible.’
‘You like them?’ He sounded surprised. For someone so experienced, she found his lack of ego a big turn-on. Then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be turned on by him. But no matter what had happened between them, she did love his work.
‘They’re so – powerful. I feel as if I could walk straight into the different scenes.’
‘I hoped so. I didn’t want to dilute the impact by unveiling them before the day. I wanted to see your reaction as well as everyone else’s. Thank you for trusting me.’
He looked at her so intensely, she felt a physical spark of electricity between them. Hot and cold shivers ran down her body. This had to stop. Nothing could come of it.
‘Thank you for putting yourself out there for me. I know it can’t have been easy to revisit those places.’
‘I don’t mind admitting it was difficult at times, but it was something I needed to do …’ He paused. ‘Poppy. Now’s not a great time, with all these people around, but I’ve something I need to tell you,’ he said.
She smiled but her skin prickled with discomfort. ‘What? I’m a little worried now.’
‘Don’t be.’
Poppy’s mum tottered up, with a glass of Prosecco. ‘Oh hello, Jake. I have to tell you that I’m a massive fan of your work. Those prints are wonderful; they gave me the shivers. What a talent you have. I wish I could capture something so dramatic and eye-catching …’
Poppy winced at her mum’s gushing testimony, but Jake took it in good part. She was desperate to ask him what he’d been about to tell her, but he was swept off by a woman from the local news website and dragged into the mass of people again.
‘Jake is so lovely and so talented. I had no idea how well known he was.’ Her mum lowered her voice. ‘I’ve been dying to chat to him all day, but I also wanted to ask you something. Dad says I have a filthy mind and I don’t want to embarrass you … but are some of those bowls and pots meant to be …’ She lowered her voice. ‘You know …’
Poppy didn’t even need to look at Rowan’s display area to know exactly what her mum was referring to. She thought she’d carefully selected his more ‘abstract’ pieces, but if her mum had noticed, she obviously hadn’t curated them carefully enough. ‘Um … Rowan is inspired by the natural human form, but his work is very open to interpretation.’
‘Hmm. That one.’ Her mum pointed to a pale pink dish with crinkly edges. ‘Is it meant to be an ashtray or a trinket tray? Not that it would be easy to get your bits and bobs out of it, once you’d got them in …’
Her dad joined them. ‘I thought it was a piggy bank to be honest, only with a very large slot.’
‘Dad!’ Her cheeks heated up. Parents. What were they like?
Her dad grinned and her mum hit him on the arm. ‘Debbie, you’ll get us thrown out.’
Heads turned in their direction, including Jake’s. His eyes lit up with amusement when he spotted Poppy and her parents sharing the joke. Poppy was desperate to get back to him and find out what he had to say, but it was impossible.
Her mum linked her arm with Poppy’s. ‘You do know that Dad and I are very proud of you?’
Her dad smiled. ‘You’ve done very well. We were so worried about you taking this place on after Dan left.’
‘He made you so unhappy. I’ll never forgive him and he’s welcome to that awful Eve. I pity their poor offspring,’ said her mum.
Poppy wrestled with conflicting emotions. She felt pride and love for her parents, who, while a bit embarrassing, obviously loved her and she loved them. She was also sad that they had hidden their real fears from her. ‘You never told me you were that worried. You said I’d be fine and you’d help me in any way you could.’
‘We will. I wish we weren’t working full-time or we’d have come over to help you open the studio. Not that you wanted us to.’
‘Thanks, Mum, but like I said, there was no need for you to do that,’ she said. The truth was, she’d been afraid that if they’d come with her and seen the state of the place when she arrived, they’d have carted her straight back home. ‘And anyway, Fen and Jake have been brilliant.’
Her mum inclined her head towards Jake, who was deep in conversation with Kay and Minty. Probably keeping them apart, thought Poppy. ‘Jake’s single, is he?’
She winced, knowing what was coming. ‘Yes, he’s single, but he lost his fiancée tragically, so please don’t get any ideas in that direction.’
Her mum gasped. ‘I wasn’t suggesting anything of the kind. You know me.’
‘Yes, I do, Mum, and that’s why I’m warning you off Jake.’
‘I don’t need warning off him. Though he is pretty hot, if you don’t mind me saying,’ she said dreamily.
‘Mum!’ said Poppy, and then rolled her eyes at the glint in her mum’s eye. ‘I know you only want me to be happy.’
‘We don’t want you to be hurt again, that’s all, love,’ said her father, shooting a slightly less admiring look at Jake, just as Minty batted him on the arm.
‘I’ve had enough of men, so you can rest easy, and Jake will be off on his travels soon. Not that’s he ready for a relationship anyways – he hasn’t got over his fiancée, Harriet. She drowned in a yacht accident.’
‘Oh, how awful,’ said her mum, staring at Jake.
‘I’d no idea,’ said her father. ‘Poor lad.’
‘Yes, it was horrible for him, but please don’t mention it. Now, excuse me because I think that man there wants to buy something.’
Poppy whizzed off, relieved at not having to continue the conversation about Jake.
While Zoey helped behind the counter, wrapping purchases and taking money, Poppy circulated, chatting to artists, locals and tourists until she was almost hoarse. Her mum handed round the nibbles and her dad topped up people’s glasses. They�
�d insisted on paying for the Prosecco and food, despite Poppy’s protests, and she was grateful for all they’d done and to have them here.
Fen caught up with her. Her face was very pink and she was slightly wobbly. She waved her glass and some fizz splashed out onto the tiles.
‘Whoops!’ Fen giggled. ‘I never thought I’d see the time when the studio was buzzing like this. I wish Archie could be here to see it.’
She swayed again and Poppy took her elbow to steady her. ‘Jake’s treated me to the air tickets to visit Archie. If you’ll be all right without me for a week or so?’
‘Totally fine. I can help look after Leo, if you like.’
‘Would you? My mind would be at rest if you did, because Jake and Leo aren’t the best of friends. I wish they would be, but some people just aren’t cat people.’
‘Well … I don’t think of myself as a cat person either.’
‘Leo likes you and that’s what matters. Oh, excuse me. I can see your dad topping up people’s glasses.’
While Fen zoned in on Poppy’s father, Poppy scanned the room for Jake. She felt a little light-headed herself, having been up at dawn. She’d hardly eaten or drunk all day and had abandoned several glasses of Prosecco after just a few sips. The canapés had long gone and she was astonished when her parents started asking if they could start clearing up. It was half past three and, shortly after that, the ferry horn emptied the studio of the last remaining day visitors. Only a handful of stragglers remained, plus her parents and Zoey.
The launch party was over.
‘It’s gone really well,’ said Zoey. ‘The cash box is stuffed. You’ll be rich as the Saatchis soon.’
‘I wish! Don’t forget I have to pay the artists their commission and the rent for the studio and my food and living costs, which are higher than at home. I need to make the most of moments like today. There’ll be plenty of days when we have very few customers, and I’ll be shut most of the winter.’
‘Hmm. The winter. Do you think you’ll come home for some of the time?’
‘For Christmas and New Year, definitely, but beyond that, I don’t know. I had thought of making some of my own jewellery to sell in the gallery, if I practise and improve my skills. Or maybe I might have to take a temporary bar job back home and live with Mum and Dad. Or I might get some work on one of the flower farms here.’
Zoey let out a squeak. ‘A farm? You on a farm? You freak out if you have to cross a field of cows, and what about all that muck and having to wear wellies all the time?’
Poppy laughed. ‘Luckily, there would be no cows involved, only narcissi, and I don’t mind wellies if I have to. The farmers need the help picking the flowers and packing them up from October to Easter. I’ve also promised to help work on Fen’s allotment. If I leave St Piran’s for too long, I’d be letting her down.’
Zoey shook her head. ‘I think you should stick to the jewellery. I loved the bracelet you made me for my birthday.’
‘Thanks, Zoey. Do you think I could sell my pieces in here?’
‘Yes. I damn well do! I’ll be brutally honest and tell you what I think of them, if you want me to, but I know you can do it.’
Poppy beamed. Zoey had made her believe that she could make and sell her own stuff if she had the time. ‘It’s definitely something I’ll try over the off-season. I’ll build up some stock ready for next spring.’
Zoey shook her head, smiling broadly. ‘You’re amazing. If Dan could see this place now and hear your plans, he’d probably drop dead with shock.’
‘Oh, I hope so.’
Zoey sniggered.
Poppy sighed, remembering that ironically, making her own jewellery had once been one of Dan’s suggestions. ‘I don’t want actual harm to come to him, of course. Only lots of temporary agonies like treading on a plug or a nasty rash round the crotch from those awful football shorts he used to wear … and I’d like it if he got lots of fines for encroaching in bus lanes. If his car was wheel clamped and towed away that would be good too.’
‘I’d like to cut his lying balls off, personally.’ Zoey hugged her. ‘This is great to see, hun. You laughing and joking and running your own business. You’ve got your mojo back, and whatever or whoever it’s due to, I’m made up for you. You deserve it.’
‘Thanks. I’ve missed you though.’
‘Me too, but now I’ve seen that the place has Wi-Fi and a decent latte, I will be back, I promise you. Especially if the Spanish pirate is sticking around.’
‘Shhh. Don’t let him hear you,’ Poppy said, wising she hadn’t mentioned the rumours to Zoey in the pub the night before. ‘That Armada thing is only a local legend. Probably complete crap.’
‘Even so. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.’
Zoey went upstairs to get ready for the pub, while Poppy trotted down to the quayside to remove the advertising board. A new thought dawned on her. She hadn’t seen Jake for quite a while and, come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Minty either.
Half an hour later, Poppy had given up on Jake coming back to the studio. In the end, she sent Zoey ahead of her to meet her parents at the pub on the pretext of freshening up and changing into jeans and a top. Secretly she had hoped that Jake would turn up. She’d been desperate to get him on his own in the privacy of the studio to find out what he wanted to tell her.
There was no sign of him, however, and an anxious text from Zoey made up Poppy’s mind. She skipped down the steps into the gallery and came face to face with Minty.
‘Minty!’
Poppy’s pulse took off, but only because she hadn’t expected anyone to be downstairs. Minty was the last person she wanted to see.
Minty pouted. ‘Hope I didn’t startle you but the door was open.’
‘You surprised me … erm, can I help you?’
‘I think I might have left my sunglasses here. I thought you’d have gone to the pub by now.’
‘I’m on my way there now. Where do you think your glasses are?’
‘Maybe on the worktable?’ She glanced around her. ‘Oh yes, there they are.’ Minty picked up the dark glasses and smiled. ‘I knew I’d put them down somewhere.’
Poppy longed for Minty to get out of the studio. She was itching to get to the pub, relax – and hopefully find Jake.
Minty moved over to the photo display and gave a sigh of appreciation. ‘These are fabulous, aren’t they?’
‘Yes …’ Poppy’s tone was wary, the way you might approach a poisonous snake. She stifled a laugh at the thought of Minty with a forked tongue just in time.
Minty swung round. ‘Have you seen Jake since the party?’
‘No. He must have had other things to do. I guess he’s at the pub.’
‘Hmm.’ Minty smiled in a sympathetic way that made Poppy’s skin crawl. ‘Forgive me if I’m interfering, but I’m not sure Jake will be at the pub.’
‘Why not?’ Poppy blurted out.
‘He took an urgent call while he was at your launch. I happened to be at the cottage with him …’ she said coyly. ‘Did you know he’s going away on Monday?’
‘What? Where?’
Minty winced. ‘Ouch. I can’t believe he hasn’t told you yet.’
‘I haven’t had chance to talk to him,’ said Poppy, going cold all over. ‘Or I’m sure he would have.’ She couldn’t hide her shock, even though Minty was clearly revelling in delivering the news.
‘Oh dear. I hope you won’t be too disappointed, but I thought I should tell you.’
‘Where’s he going?’ said Poppy, mechanically. She was numb with shock even though she had no right to be.
‘Brazil. To the Amazon, in fact. I asked him for how long and he said it was “unspecified”. Whatever that means – ha, you know Jake. He hates to be tied down to details. I’m not sure when or if he plans on coming back here. I’m only amazed he’s even stayed this long. You look pale. Are you OK?’
Poppy forced a smile. ‘I’m fine and I expect he’ll tell me all about
it soon. It sounds very exciting. Now …’ she stepped forward, ushering Minty towards the door as if she was sweeping out a particularly large spider ‘… I must leave. Everyone will be waiting for me.’
Minty took the hint – not risking being pushed out of the door. ‘I’m sorry I can’t come, but I’m meeting a gallery owner for dinner at the Crab and Lobster at the Petroc Resort. He’s flown in from London specially to see me.’
‘Great,’ said Poppy with a smile as Minty practically fell onto the veranda. ‘Maybe he’ll sweep you off there too, though that would be a terrible loss to the islands. Still, we’ll have to cope somehow. Glad you found your glasses. Byeeeeee!’
Minty scuttled off and Poppy locked the door behind her. She took a deep breath, willing herself to get a grip. Jake was leaving on a photography assignment as he had every right to do and as she’d fully expected he would one day soon anyway. She’d only known him a few weeks and she had no right to be upset or hurt or even surprised. So why did she feel as if a dirty great cloud had chased away the sunny skies of her fabulous day and unleashed a deluge of icy rain on her?
Chapter 22
Damn. He was too late.
Jake tried the handle of the Starfish Studio door but it was locked. The windows were dark and there wasn’t a sound from inside. Poppy had probably locked up because of all the takings from the launch and, judging by the silence, she and her friend and family must have already gone to the pub to celebrate.
The launch party had been winding down when he’d had to rush back to the cottage to take an urgent phone call. By the time he’d dealt with the fallout from that conversation, over an hour had passed. He’d been about to return to the party when Minty had knocked on his door.
It was now almost seven o’clock.
Deciding it was easier to explain his hasty departure from the party face to face, Jake jogged up the road and was soon walking onto the terrace of the Moor’s Head. The place was heaving with locals, off-islanders and tourists, all out in the warm sunshine. Everyone was in T-shirts and shorts or summer dresses, chattering and admiring the jaw-dropping view of tiny green fields falling away sharply to the sea shimmering in the evening sun. Poppy’s parents were enjoying a pint and a G&T at one of the tables. Her friend, Zoey, was chatting to Rowan Pentire and the two seemed to be getting on very well.
Summer on the Little Cornish Isles Page 19
