Summer on the Little Cornish Isles

by Phillipa Ashley

  Fen chuckled. ‘Hmm. By the way that Tim – the Phantom Crocheter – was here and complained that Rowan’s latest bowl range was obscene, but I feigned all innocent, told him I’d no idea what he meant and asked him to explain. I thought he was going to have a heart attack trying to tell me why Rowan’s pot was so rude and then he started to back-pedal like the clappers. Maisie and Jess were here, and they were wetting themselves too and Tim made a sharp exit.’ Fen tutted loudly. ‘Some people are such old fogeys. The things they get worked up about – a few saucy pots – when there’s so much real horror in the world.’

  ‘I know,’ Poppy said, she could hardly speak for laughing. The Starfish Studio, she realised, made her smile. St Piran’s made her smile. For all its quirky and often frustrating ways, she missed it. ‘I wish I’d been there, Fen. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. I can’t thank you enough for holding the fort.’

  ‘I don’t mind, honestly. Now it’s not my responsibility and I can dip in and out when it suits me, I enjoy working in here. It’s like having a grandchild you can hand back at the end of the day. Not that I’ve had any, of course.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it and thanks again,’ said Poppy. She had a pang of sympathy for Fen. She didn’t know if Fen had ever wanted children of her own or not; it was wrong to assume that she had. However, judging by those drawings of Archie’s, she was convinced that she’d had at least one love affair and that it hadn’t ended happily. In that way, she and Fen were kindred spirits. There might be almost fifty years between her and Fen, but they had a lot in common. Fen had a young and generous spirit and Poppy hoped she was that open-minded and fun to be with when she was almost eighty.

  ‘How’s your man doing?’ said Fen. ‘It must be hard for him, on his own.’

  Poppy cringed. ‘Dan’s OK, I think, considering. I’m fine. I’m looking forward to coming home,’ she added, just in case Fen hadn’t got the message that Dan was definitely not ‘her man’.

  ‘Don’t worry about the studio. I’m managing and everyone’s chipping in.’

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll be able to too soon enough. We’re notching it up on your account, ready for when you come home.’

  After saying their goodbyes, Poppy put down the phone and looked around the sitting room. Her parents had redecorated after she’d gone to university but a few traces of her youth remained. A photo of her with her friends on graduation day and a watercolour of a Cornish harbour she’d bought while she was working in the craft centre. The room focused her mind on how much had changed since those days – before she’d even met Dan – but also on her ties to home, the love she had for her parents and how much she missed Zoey. Had she tried to take too many steps, too soon after Dan had left?

  In the space of a few minutes, her mood had switched from gloom to hope and back to gloom again. Fen’s reports of the studio and island life had briefly set her back on track: she’d been looking forward to returning to the Starfish and kick-starting her new life. Now, she didn’t know where home was any more.

  The Canalside Café was a cheerful sight with its brightly painted narrowboats chugging past the red-brick cottages and pub. She and Dan had cycled there many times from their Staffordshire home in happier days and Poppy felt it was a place that might lift Dan’s spirits and also one where they could find private space to talk.

  Lime and willow trees overhung the canal and she noticed that the leaves were tinged with yellow and a few were floating on the water canal. A slight hint of autumn was definitely in the air here in the Midlands, while it still seemed high summer on Scilly.

  When Dan turned up, they ordered a coffee and a cake each – although Poppy had little appetite – and managed to bag an outside table next to the towpath. With cyclists, dog walkers and families, the café and towpaths seemed packed to her. It was such a contrast to the studio, where half a dozen visitors constituted a crowd.

  They talked about the wake and even shared a few smiles at some of the off-colour jokes and dodgy anecdotes that Dan’s elderly uncle had related when he’d had one too many whiskies. Poppy didn’t mention that some of his relatives had asked if she and Dan were back together.

  ‘Mum’s invited me to fly over to Auckland in November to visit her. She said she’ll pay for my ticket,’ said Dan.

  ‘That sounds exciting. It’ll be a great experience,’ said Poppy, pleased that he sounded keen to take his mother up on the offer. With the distance between them, he hadn’t seen that much of her over the past few years.

  He nodded, then seemed distracted by a narrowboat idling alongside them and people shouting as it manoeuvred into the lock. Poppy gave him time, but the goose bumps were raised on her arms. She had a feeling something was coming … and that she might not like it.

  He turned back to look at her. ‘You could come with me, you know.’

  Chapter 30

  ‘Thanks for the lift, mate.’

  Jake jumped off Trevor’s boat and walked briskly up from St Piran’s harbour towards the Starfish Studio. He didn’t want to get into conversation with anyone before he reached it, so he kept his head down and barely grunted a ‘hi’ at the couple who ran the kiosk. Never mind, he had a reputation for being a taciturn, moody sod, so they wouldn’t be surprised. Thirty seconds later, he was stepping up onto the veranda to find the door …

  Locked.

  He tried it again and then realised that there was no stock on the decking. Come to think of it, he hadn’t noticed the advertising board at the end of the quay, but then he’d been homing in on his destination like Leo after a fresh dish of hare and badger.

  He smiled. He’d even missed Leo while he’d been on his travels, let alone Fen, his grandpa and his family. And as for Poppy … the nights had been agony. The days hadn’t been quite so bad, as long as he was totally engaged in his subject. However, in any spare moment, she had slipped into his thoughts with her smile and her wicked laugh and her arch comments and her lovely smell and her curvy bum and her toned, tanned legs. And now he was back to try to persuade her that he’d been a total twat and should never have left without telling her how he felt about her … but first he had to get her to answer the door.

  In fact, he thought, peering through the window, it looked as if there was no one in at all, yet it was half past ten; the ferry was about to arrive bringing the first visitors of the day. Maybe she was having a lie-in, although it was unlikely … unless she’d been out the night before, or unless … Jake groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Unless she was having a lie-in with someone else.

  ‘Oh, the wanderer returns!’ Jake turned around sharply as Minty skipped up the steps onto the veranda. ‘Are you looking for Poppy?’

  He managed to dredge up a brief smile. ‘Hi, Minty. Yes, I was wondering why the studio was closed.’

  ‘Hadn’t you heard? Poppy’s gone back home.’

  He frowned. ‘Home to the Midlands? For a break?’ He’d thought it was weird while it was still holiday season.

  Minty shrugged. ‘Um. A family crisis. I don’t know for absolute sure because I only heard it on the grapevine.’ She wagged her finger. ‘It’s naughty of me to speculate. I could be completely wrong.’

  ‘Wrong about what?’ Jake was riled, even though he suspected Minty was trying to wind him up – and succeeding.

  ‘No. I absolutely don’t want to cause trouble between you two.’ The glint in her eyes suggested otherwise.

  ‘I’m sure you don’t,’ he said smoothly, trying charm on Minty. ‘But if you have any clue why she’s gone, I’d really appreciate your insight.’

  Minty sighed. ‘We-ell. She did have a guy staying over. In fact, he answered the door to me a few days ago. I popped over with some new pieces for the studio as they’ve been selling so incredibly well, but the studio was locked, which is unusual it itself, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ said Jake, fighting the urge to shout Who was this man
? ‘Poppy isn’t used to leaving doors unlocked yet, being a city girl. You say some bloke answered the door …’

  ‘He did. He was in his boxers, you see, and it was almost ten o’clock in the morning.’ Minty virtually purred in delight at delivering the information. ‘I had quite a shock.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve seen it all before,’ said Jake.

  ‘Actually, not enough of it …’ She looked him up and down as if she wanted to lick him.

  Jake forced himself to stay calm. ‘So, this man? Do you happen to know who he is?’

  ‘He’s her ex, apparently. Although maybe not so “ex” any more from what he said to me. He referred to himself as “her partner”, although I know she’s meant to have split up with him months ago. He told me that Poppy was still in bed and he’d give the stock to her when she “surfaced”.’ Minty did a finger quoting gesture just in case Jake hadn’t got the message about the bed. He had, loud and clear.

  ‘And?’ said Jake, hating to let on to Minty that he cared so much about Poppy’s love life but eager to glean every tiny detail.

  ‘And when I asked him when the studio would be open, he told me he didn’t know as Poppy was getting a flight back to Newquay with him and then they were taking the train to Birmingham. He said that his father had passed away and Poppy was going home with him.’

  ‘Shit.’ The word slipped out before Jake could stop it. ‘Going home for good?’

  Minty laid her hand on his arm. ‘I honestly couldn’t say, but this guy – Dan, I think – said he didn’t think she would be back once she’d gone home. He did say that he’d like to try and make a go of things with her again.’

  ‘What?’ Jake couldn’t stop himself this time.

  ‘I’m sorry if it’s bad news, but ex-partners do often get back together. Once you’ve had that spark with someone, it’s hard to put it out.’

  ‘Seems like it,’ said Jake, realising a fraction of a second too late that Minty was hinting at their fling.

  Her eyes lit up in delight. ‘Do you want me to make you a coffee? You’ve had a long journey and a big shock. I presume you’re staying at Archie’s?’

  ‘Yes, I am and thanks, but no thanks, to the coffee. I’m knackered to be honest, Minty.’

  Her face fell. ‘Are you sure? I don’t like leaving you like this.’

  ‘Like what?’ Jake flashed her a smile. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me that a hot shower and a good kip won’t cure.’

  ‘Both of those things sound fabulous but would surely be better with a friend?’

  Well, you couldn’t blame her for trying, thought Jake, though he was desperate to be alone to process what Minty had shared about Dan and Poppy getting back together.

  ‘Thanks, but I need to be on my own. And thanks for the information. See you around.’

  ‘Hope so and you know where I am if you need me.’

  Jake smiled again even though it hurt his jaw, slung his pack on his back and left her on the veranda.

  His mind worked overtime while he let himself into the cottage. Only something major would persuade Poppy to close the studio in mid-season and her ex-partner losing his father was just such a thing. Poppy was a kind and loving person and she’d never turn away even a cheating louse like Dan in those circumstances … though why the guy had travelled all this way to see Poppy, when he had a new partner, was beyond Jake’s comprehension.

  Then again … Dan might have travelled all this way precisely because he must have left his new partner. He’d obviously woken up to the fact that he was an idiot to have left Poppy and headed out here to get her back. And Poppy had gone with him – which was understandable but also made Jake feel slightly sick. Why didn’t he say something before he’d left? Because it was way too soon, that’s why. As he suspected, Poppy clearly hadn’t got over Dan and who knew what might have happened if the man had flown out here grieving and vulnerable – and begging her to give him another try?

  Damn, damn and damn.

  He trusted Minty’s version of events about as much as he trusted Facebook news, but she wouldn’t have made up Dan being at the studio, or Poppy leaving the island with him. Nor would she lie outright about what the man had said about Poppy. He wandered from kitchen to sitting room, unable to rest even after his long journey.

  Dan and Poppy had only been separated a few months and they had been together for years and were obviously committed to each other enough at one time, to plan a new life on Scilly. God knows, after Harriet’s death, Jake would have given anything to have her back, no matter what had passed between them before her accident. Poppy might have thought she was over Dan, but he’d often wondered if she was putting on a brave face and was still hurting far more deeply than she’d ever let on to him.

  Despite their night together, he and Poppy had never really opened up to each other about their feelings. That was mostly his fault for shutting her out and blowing hot and cold, as his mum liked to put it. He didn’t want to pressure her because he’d been worried that she wasn’t ready for a new relationship, but after so long away from her, he now knew that it was he, Jake, who’d been afraid to start again. And, of course, if he admitted his real feelings, he’d have to stay on St Piran’s to be with her. These past weeks, so far from home and so far from Poppy, had made him realise that he did want to be with her and did have the courage to go for it. Now it looked as if he might be too late.

  He should call her – better still, he needed to see her face to face.

  First, he phoned his mum to let her know he was home.

  ‘Jake. Where are you?’

  ‘On Scilly. At Grandpa’s house.’

  ‘What? What are you doing there? I thought you were coming straight to us after you landed?’

  ‘I – needed to come here.’

  His mother let out an audible sigh. ‘OK. I won’t ask, but all’s well that ends well because it’s perfect you’re on St Piran’s. We’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages.’

  By ages his mum probably meant twenty minutes. ‘Why? What’s up.’

  ‘It’s your grandpa, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Grandpa?’ Jake sat up; his pulse rocketed. ‘Oh God, what’s happened to him now?’

  ‘Don’t panic. He’s fine.’ His mum sounded stressed out herself. ‘In fact, anyone would think he’d made a miraculous recovery overnight. He’s coming back to St Piran’s. He just decided this morning, booked a flight and demanded that your dad take him to the airport. We couldn’t get hold of you until now. He’s probably on his way across to St Piran’s as we speak.’

  Chapter 31

  Jake scanned the faces on the deck of the Islander ferry, hoping to spot his grandpa before he walked down the gangplank. It had berthed at the quay in St Mary’s a few minutes before and the staff had swung into action, tying her up and bringing forklifts ready to unload the freight and luggage she brought along with her passengers.

  Excited visitors chattered on the deck, pointing and taking pictures as they got their first close-up glimpse of St Mary’s – but there was no sign of Archie. It was just gone noon, and soon the visitors would pour off the boat and into the little Scilly capital or onto the smaller vessels waiting to take them to the ‘off-islands’.

  After his mum had called, Jake had tried to reach Fen via her sister’s landline, only for it to go straight to answerphone. In the end, he’d found Lisa from the Harbour Kiosk who told him that Fen had taken the helicopter the previous morning to attend a funeral on the mainland. Jake’s jaw had dropped. Fen hated the helicopter after one bad experience years before so he was astonished she’d set foot on one now. Lisa had no idea who the friend was but said Fen had been very upset and had left Leo in her care until she returned.

  Jake’s mind was whirling: with Poppy probably back with Dan, Fen grieving and out of contact and his grandpa about to arrive, he’d landed in the midst of total chaos. However, he had to pull himself together, as meeting Archie was his immediate priority.

&nb
sp; He’d booked a place on a private jetboat to St Piran’s, figuring it would be easier to have a ‘taxi’ than have to crowd onto one of the public services. When he couldn’t spot the old man from the quayside, he guessed he was already on a lower deck waiting to disembark. He still used a walking stick, so it was likely the crew would give him some assistance to get down from the deck and off the ship. They probably all knew his grandpa anyway. Archie had always loved the Islander ferry, preferring the leisurely three-hour cruise to the short flight.

  Jake hurried over to the gangway and, a minute later, Archie appeared. One of the crew was carrying his bags.

  He was waving away any attempts for assistance. ‘I’m fine. Don’t fuss. Thanks for carrying my bags, but I don’t need any more help,’ he told the crew member holding his elbow.

  Jake jogged over. ‘Welcome home, Grandpa!’ he said, hugging him warmly.

  Archie squeezed Jake’s back. ‘It’s good to be here.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Jake said to the crew member who held the ancient holdall and battered suitcase. ‘I’m sure Grandpa appreciates the help, even if it doesn’t act like it,’ he added quietly.

  ‘A pleasure. See you around, Archie,’ said the crewman with a grin and left the bags next to them before disappearing back into the ship.

  Archie peered at Jake. ‘You look thin, boy. What have you been eating in that jungle? Spiders?’

  ‘They’re very nutritious,’ said Jake, thinking that his grandpa had lost a bit of weight too but looked miles better than when he’d seen him at his parents’ house a few months previously.

  Jake slowed his pace while they made their way towards their water taxi, but his grandpa was doing remarkably well.

  ‘I’ve arranged transport over to St Piran’s,’ said Jake, ‘Look, the jetboat’s already here and waiting. Shall I give you a hand down the steps to it?’

  ‘The jetboat, eh?’ Archie’s eye twinkled. ‘I’m highly honoured. I can manage the steps if you’ll carry my bags.’