‘Of course, Grandpa. Did you know that Fen’s gone to the mainland? Has she spoken to you about it?’
Archie frowned. ‘No. Not a word.’
‘Lisa says she took the helicopter.’
‘That thing? Why?’
‘She rushed off to a funeral, apparently. Lisa said it was a family friend.’
‘A friend? Oh.’ Archie sighed. ‘Oh dear. Poor bird. My poor Fen.’
‘What do you mean? Do you know whose funeral it was?’
‘Not for definite, but I can guess if Fen took the helicopter. Poor poor girl.’
‘Who is it?’
Archie shook his head. He seemed downcast.
‘Grandpa. What are you not telling me?’
He patted Jake’s hand. ‘Nothing, boy. I only feel deeply sorry for Fen, losing her friend. I’ll call her when I get into the cottage. Now, let’s get home.’
Jake decided not to push the topic: his grandpa would tell him more in his own good time and it was obvious Archie was desperate to be back in his own space.
Despite his insistence that he was OK to climb down the steep stone steps, the jetboat skipper kept a close eye on him – much to Archie’s disapproval – and helped him on board, citing ‘health and safety’. Jake kept a watch at the rear, trying not to fuss but wary of his grandpa’s still-fragile condition. His doctors had said he was healing well, but Jake wasn’t prepared to take any risks.
On the short voyage to St Piran’s, Archie didn’t miss a thing, commenting on the restored tripper boat in the harbour, how high the tide was, and noticing that the jetboat had a new skipper at the helm. He drank in every feature, the rocky skerries, the sandbanks glistening with weed, the seals basking in the sun and the seabirds wheeling overhead. Every now and then, he made a remark, but as they neared the St Piran’s jetty, Jake noticed him fall silent.
On the quayside, a small throng of people was waiting.
‘What’s this?’ Archie said, pointing to the little crowd who were waving at him. Jake broke into a grin as he spotted Lisa and Ben, plus the landlady from the Moor’s Head and Maisie – and wow, with a baby buggy. Jess Godrevy was also there, holding a large bunch of flowers from her farm.
‘Welcome home, Archie!’ they chorused as the skipper cut the engine.
He shook his head. ‘I said I didn’t want a fuss,’ he muttered, glaring at Jake.
He held up his hands. ‘I might have mentioned you were coming back to a few people, but the welcome party is nothing to do with me. They’ve turned up of their own accord.’
Archie grunted and the crewman opened the gangway door so they could disembark. He agreed to be helped off the boat as the jetty steps were steep and slippery with seaweed.
‘Welcome back!’ everyone chanted again once he was safely on the stone quay.
‘You soft devils,’ he said, then saw the baby buggy and his face lit up. ‘Is that the little one? Fen told me she’d been born.’
Maisie pushed the buggy forward and lifted a tiny baby out of it, which promptly let out a piercing wail. ‘Meet Eloise Jonquil Samson. The newest and –’ Maisie winced ‘– loudest inhabitant of Gull Island.’
‘She’s very bonny. Like her mother,’ said Archie, as the baby grasped his thumb. Jake was sure there was a glint in his grandpa’s eye. ‘I’ve missed a lot,’ he said.
‘You can catch up now. Hope we’ll be seeing you in the Driftwood soon?’
‘And the Moor’s Head,’ said the landlady. ‘We’ve a pint of Challenger waiting for you when you’re ready.’
‘Thanks,’ said Archie, smacking his lips at the mention of his favourite local ale. ‘You won’t keep me away from the Driftwood or the Moor’s Head. The beer in those mainland pubs is like gnats’ piss. I’m dying for a proper drink.’
Everyone laughed, including Jake. His grandpa sounded far more like his old self than he had for months.
Jess held out the bouquet. ‘Great to have you home.’
He kissed her cheek. ‘You shouldn’t have, but thank you.’
‘Shall I drop it at the cottage for you?’ she said, nodding at Archie’s stick. She’d obviously realised he didn’t have a free hand to carry the large bunch of pinks.
‘That’d be grand,’ said Archie, then shook his head. ‘I hear you’re back with Adam Pengelly. I don’t know why you two ever split up. I could have knocked your heads together.’
Jake cringed, but Jess clearly took the advice on her love life in good spirit and laughed. ‘Actually, we’re engaged,’ she said, holding out her left hand.
Archie looked at the ring and blew out a breath. ‘Postmen must be paid well these days. Congratulations. Adam’s a lucky man.’
Lisa from the Harbour Kiosk stepped forward and gave Archie a brief hug. ‘There’s a cream tea waiting in your cottage. Sorry, I have to get back to work now, but we’re here any time you need anything.’
‘I don’t deserve all this fuss,’ said Archie. ‘But I’ve also missed a proper cream tea, so that’ll be grand.’
‘Thanks, everyone,’ said Jake. ‘Maybe we can get together for a drink when Grandpa’s settled in?’
‘Definitely,’ said Maisie. ‘There’s the christening to look forward to and I’m sure we’ll see you all at the Driftwood to wet the baby’s head.’
‘Try keeping me away,’ said Archie. ‘See you all later and thank you for the welcome party. Now bugger off back to work.’
Laughter echoed off the stone as people dispersed to go about their business. Maisie and Jess pushed the baby in the direction of the beach, while the landlady walked back towards the pub at the other end of the island. Lisa was already at the kiosk, putting on her apron ready to serve ice creams to the visitors lounging at the outside tables.
‘How’s business been at the studio?’ Archie asked Jake as they made their way steadily to the cottage. They were almost level with the studio.
‘OK, I think. I haven’t had chance to ask since I’ve been back.’
‘Your mother said you didn’t get in touch with her for a week. She was beside herself.’
Jake winced at his grandpa’s admonishment, because it was well deserved. ‘I was totally out of contact in a tribal village in the middle of the jungle. The satellite phone stopped working, the radio packed it in and there was no internet.’
‘Sounds like the old days on St Piran’s,’ Archie said tartly. He slowed down and then stopped in front of the studio. ‘My … the studio looks smart.’
Jake smiled to himself. He’d been a little nervous of his grandpa’s reaction to the revamped building. ‘You approve?’
Archie stepped forward. ‘If it looks as good on the inside as the out, I do. Is that a new roof on the veranda? And it’s been repainted.’
‘The Gull Island Trust came to help with the roof repairs and exterior paintwork and I helped Poppy with the interior painting. There’s more work been done inside … a lot more …’
Archie tutted. ‘I shouldn’t have let it go downhill. If my bloody hip hadn’t let me down, I’d have helped you do the place up myself. What a silly old fool, I am, slipping over like that. It half killed me to have to leave all the work to you, Jake. I know you hate coming back here.’
‘I didn’t mind the work. I was at a loose end after my last job in the spring, so I needed something to keep me occupied. I’d been travelling a long time and I don’t hate St Piran’s. Not now.’
Archie gave him a searching look. ‘Don’t hate it. My, that’s progress. What’s changed your mind, boy?’
‘I don’t know. Time and …’ Jake shrugged. ‘I just had to get on with things. Shall we go to the cottage and get settled in?’ He clammed up and changed the subject. His falling back in love with St Piran’s was rapidly turning into a falling back out now Poppy had left.
‘I’d like to see around the studio. I was planning to get back in there and start painting again,’ said Archie. ‘Why is it closed? Where is the new woman – Poppy? I’d have thought she’d h
ave been keen to show the place off.’
It was the question Jake had been dreading and he was only surprised his grandpa had waited until now.
‘She’s not here.’
Archie raised a bushy white eyebrow. ‘Where’s she got to?’
‘I don’t know exactly …’
Archie peered at him.
‘I think she’s gone home,’ said Jake.
‘Why? Does Fen know what’s going on?’
‘She probably does but I haven’t had chance to speak to her.’ Jake cursed himself for being a coward.
‘I’ll call her as soon as I’m settled in and I’ll ask her what’s happening.’ He gave Jake the gimlet eye. ‘Don’t you have young Poppy’s phone number yourself? Or her internet? You seem to be on your phones and computers all the time, so can’t you contact her?’
Jake squirmed under the interrogation. ‘Yes, I do have her number but I only found out today she’d gone and then Mum phoned and said you’d be here. And it’s not that simple. I don’t want to interfere, Grandpa.’
‘I thought you and she were friendly. Fen said as much and you never stopped mentioning her name on the phone.’
Jake smiled to himself. He might have guessed that he couldn’t pull the wool over his grandpa’s eyes.
‘Well, I don’t know where she is and I haven’t asked her and I don’t want to, so can we leave it at that? Please? I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough. Let’s get your stuff into the cottage.’
Archie shook his head. ‘I really do despair of you youngsters sometimes. Whatever happened to seizing the day and just getting on with things?’ He sighed. ‘Come on, let me get home …’ His face suddenly changed to dismay. ‘More importantly, if you’ve all been off flying your kites, who’s been looking after Leo?’
Jake reassured Archie that Lisa from the kiosk had been looking after him. Lisa had also mentioned that Poppy had gone to the mainland to attend a funeral with her ex when he’d bumped into her on his way to meet his grandfather on St Mary’s. It seemed increasingly likely that Poppy might have decided to give up on the Starfish, but until Jake could ask Fen if she’d heard anything – or swallowed his pride and spoke to Poppy directly – he was going to be left in self-inflicted agony.
How arrogant and bloody stupid it seemed now, to simply think he could turn up on her doorstep and declare undying love without even telling her he was coming or giving a hint of his feelings in his messages to her.
OK, he’d only summoned up the courage to admit them to himself a week ago, and as for deciding to tell Poppy – that had only happened on the flight to the UK. He’d booked an onward flight from Newquay to Scilly while he was in the departure lounge at Heathrow. Everything seemed to be dovetailing – coming together in a perfect way – but not once had he considered Poppy not being there when he came home.
Jake settled Archie in and made a cup of tea while his grandpa rang Fen, but when he came back he found Archie shaking his head at the phone.
‘I still can’t get hold of Fen. Her sister said she went for a walk a couple of hours ago. She’d expected her back by now.’
‘I don’t know why she won’t have a mobile,’ said Jake.
‘She says she’s managed without one this long and doesn’t want to be bothered now. You can’t blame her. Though I wouldn’t be without my iPhone.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be back soon; she probably bumped into someone she knows.’ Hiding his unease, Jake handed over the tea and sat opposite Archie. He had to confess one of his big secrets now before his grandpa made his way upstairs to the bedroom. ‘Grandpa. I need to tell you something.’
Archie frowned. ‘This sounds serious.’
‘I found the crate of paintings in the studio and the letter.’
Archie slurped his tea before muttering. ‘Oh?’
‘I moved the crate into the spare room.’
‘I suppose you opened it and the letter?’
Jake reached out and touched his hand. ‘I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself.’
‘I guessed you might, but when you didn’t mention it all this time, I wasn’t sure you’d opened it. It was meant for you after I’m gone. It’s all right, boy, don’t fret about it.’ He patted Jake’s arm.
Jake was flooded with relief. ‘You didn’t really think something might happen to you, did you?’ he asked, pleased to have the burden of the crate lifted from his mind.
‘I was just being prepared. It seemed the sensible thing to do while I was able. I didn’t know at the time I wrote the letter and packed up the paintings that I’d end up in hospital.’
‘I was worried about you.’
He patted Jake’s arm again. ‘Turns out it takes a lot to finish me off, though I’ll admit when the accident first happened, I was in a lot of pain, but worse than that, I felt helpless. I had to rely on the nurses to do everything for me and then on your mum and dad. I hated it and I know some people have to accept the help, and it might be wrong of me, but having my independence taken from me was like a bereavement.’
‘We wanted to help you. We all want to see you better and no one minded doing what they could.’
‘I did,’ said Archie fiercely. ‘I thought I’d be stuck in a wheelchair or immobile. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to come back home and live in my cottage, or paint where I want to in the open air or sail my boat. I still don’t know if I can sail her, but at least I’m here.’
‘I thought you didn’t want to come home …’
‘I did but my confidence took a knock and, well, I haven’t seen as much of your mum and dad as I ought to, so once I’d stopped feeling so sorry for myself, I decided to make the best of a bad job and spend some time with them. I missed Fen and Leo and the isles like a limb, but the plus side of being away – being with your mum and dad – dawned on me too.’
‘They enjoyed having you, especially once you were on the mend.’
‘Yes, well it was good to see them and catch up. Besides, I don’t heal so fast these days and it didn’t take much to set me back … I was glad of the company and the support, no matter how much I grumbled. Once you started mentioning Poppy and working with her on the studio, you seemed more like your old self too.’
Jake caught his breath. He knew that something else might have behind his grandpa’s extended ‘recuperation’ but hadn’t been quite sure …
‘Really?’
‘At first I was only grateful you were here to help her. I felt so guilty, but I knew I was in no fit state to paint, let alone redecorate the studio. Then I detected more. You sounded happy, Jake. You stopped talking about the place like it was a hell on earth that you wanted to bury or pretend never existed. You mentioned the photographs and I knew that you were on the mend too.’
‘I – I think that coming back helped. Seeing it through fresh eyes. Through your eyes, Grandpa.’
‘And through hers?’
‘Yes. Through Poppy’s eyes. She saw things I hadn’t noticed or made me look at them in a new way.’ He hesitated, only now voicing a feeling he’d had for months. ‘She hasn’t only made me see the landscapes through fresh eyes but myself as well.’
‘And love?’
‘Maybe.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Does she?’
‘What?’
‘Know how you feel? Know what you’ve just told me?’
‘I doubt it. I haven’t told her. In fact –’ he took a deep breath ‘– the reason I headed straight here from Heathrow, rather than calling in at Mum and Dad’s, was because I wanted to tell her how I feel before I lose my nerve again. The months I’ve spent apart from her have made me realise that. Call it perspective … But now she’s gone too.’
‘And you won’t phone her to find out what’s going on?’
‘No. I don’t think it’s right to intrude.’
‘You mean you’re too scared?’
‘Yes. I suppose do. She might want to make a go of things with her ex
again.’
‘Her ex?’ Archie snorted. ‘From what I saw of him, the man is a total prat.’
Jake laughed, recalling Dan’s brusque brush-off when he thought Jake was trying to sell him something. ‘I only met him once, but I have to agree.’
‘He kept me talking in the studio and was a know-all. He seemed to like putting Poppy down too. Treats people like they’re some kind of business deal he has to win. She won’t go back to him, Jake.’
‘I hope not, but she’s been lonely here, however much she’s tried to hide it. I’m not sure she’d made up her mind to stay.’
‘So, what are you going to do about it?’ said Archie.
‘Call Poppy.’ Jake surprised himself with the forcefulness of his response.
‘Then get on with it before it is too late.’
Jake was about to reply when there a rattle from the front door.
‘Leo!’
The cat trotted in and jumped deftly onto the sofa and then onto Archie’s lap.
Archie rubbed his head and Leo purred like a drill. ‘I thought I’d never see you again, matey,’ he said, his eyes bright with moisture. ‘But I’m back now and I’m never going away again.’
After a late lunch, Jake left his grandpa to have a nap and went for walk, taking his camera with him. It was a lovely day and he thought he might capture some images while he summoned up the nerve to call Poppy. To his surprise, he realised he wanted to take photos; it wasn’t a burden: he’d rediscovered his love of St Piran’s since he’d produced Poppy’s prints.
He took a narrow track behind the cottage, which led through the modest garden and up through the gorse and bracken onto the small stretch of heathland that covered the central plateau of St Piran’s. The island was only a mile by a mile and a half and barely a hundred feet above sea level.
Half a dozen hardy red cattle grazed the heathland and were milked at the small farm. Their milk was made into butter, frozen yoghurt and the ice cream sold at the Harbour Kiosk. They lifted their heads and looked at Jake as he walked past but went back to their grazing. He climbed up to a small cairn, which marked the highest point of St Piran’s. A mile across the inky deep-water channel, he could see the low green island of St Mary’s and make out the Islander ferry at the quayside. Beyond St Mary’s, the smaller islands of Gull and St Saviour’s were hazy outcrops.
Summer on the Little Cornish Isles Page 27
