Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
CORNWALL FOR CHRISTMAS
By
Ruth Saberton
A Polwenna Bay novella
Polwenna Bay 5
Copyright
All characters, organisations and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The opinions expressed in this book are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and / or legal right to publish all materials in this book.
Copyright © 2016 Ruth Saberton
Editor: Jane Griffiths
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the publisher. If you wish to share this book please do so through the proper channels.
www.ruthsaberton.com
Chapter 1
The train was at bursting point. Every aisle was filled with people lurching along in search of seat reservations, tripping over the stray bags that spilled out from beneath tables. Even the spaces between the carriages were crammed with suitcases. As the pace increased and inner-city terraces blurred into the semis of suburbia, Kat James curled her hands around the polystyrene coffee cup and sent up a silent prayer of gratitude that she’d managed to find a seat. She really didn’t fancy standing all the way from London to Cornwall.
Maybe this was an indication that her luck was on the change. Kat certainly hoped so. If grabbing the last empty seat on a train packed with excited travellers all heading to the West Country for Christmas was a sign from the universe that things were on the up, then it was one she was more than happy to acknowledge. Besides, it was hard to be gloomy when you were surrounded by people brimming with festive cheer. In spite of the overcrowding and a signal failure just outside Reading, nobody was complaining – if anything there was a party atmosphere in the carriage because the Christmas holidays had begun. Outside it was a bright winter’s day, all cold sunshine and iced spiders’ webs, and as the train snaked across England on the journey westwards, the excitement seemed to increase with every mile.
Although she was exhausted from a long and gruelling term’s teaching, topped off by the sadistic arrival of Ofsted just at the very point where she was ready to collapse in a heap, Kat felt a little tingle of anticipation. She might be travelling on her own – no noisy family reunions for her – but the thought of some peace and quiet in a pretty fishing village made her heart lift. Sipping mulled wine by an open fire or walking alone across the frosty cliff tops was exactly what she needed. There would be head space, mental elbow room and, most of all, time to get over Ed and move on.
Not that she was going to dwell on her ex this week, Kat decided firmly. Ed had taken up far too much thinking time over the past few months and there was no way she was going to let him ruin this break – or rather, she wouldn’t allow him to ruin it any more than he already had. She had the latest bestseller loaded onto her Kindle, a Pret sandwich in a paper bag and a pile of coursework marking to distract her on the journey to Cornwall. The last thing she needed to do was think about what could have been. What did it matter that today she and Ed should have been travelling down together for a romantic Christmas break, when all this amazing scenery was whizzing past and Polwenna Bay waited for her? Having watched numerous episodes of Poldark and Doc Martin, Kat had fallen head over heels in love with the rugged land and restless seas that hemmed this furthest tip of Britain. She’d dreamed of visiting Cornwall for so long that now she was finally on her way she had no intention of letting anything – anyone – spoil this trip.
Her best friend, Tom Elliot, had been right, Kat decided as she pulled out her phone and scrolled through the pictures he’d sent her along with her booking information. This break was exactly what she needed – with or without Ed. By the looks of it the Polwenna Bay Hotel was absolutely beautiful, and the pretty room she’d be staying in boasted the most breathtaking views across sweeping lawns and out to sea. And judging from the photographs, Polwenna Bay’s village was everything that Cornwall was supposed to be: a cluster of whitewashed cottages perched on the steep hillside, each crumpled building clinging on for dear life as the land fell away to the small harbour and sparkling sea below. In between the cottages were gardens and hedges and crumbling stone walls, threading through the village and tying it together like laces on a lady’s corset. Lichen speckled the rooftops and a silver ribbon river wound its way to the harbour, where trawlers hugged the high stone walls and a sickle of yellow beach stretched beyond. There was a picturesque pub too (where she imagined eating crab rolls by an open fire), as well as a quaint church which Kat thought she might visit on Christmas morning if the mood took her. There was even a Michelin-starred restaurant where she’d planned on eating dinner with Ed…
Arrah! Kat could have screamed. There she went again, thinking about Ed when she’d sworn she was going to put him out of her mind once and for all. Annoyed with herself for this lapse, Kat turned her attention back to the pictures on the phone, swiping through each one and imagining herself alone this time as she explored the streets or strode over the cliffs. How lucky was she to have time to herself? Her sister, Beth, had been beyond jealous.
“You lucky cow!” was Beth’s reaction when Kat announced that she was still going to Cornwall alone rather than hurling herself into the James family Christmas free-for-all where the alcohol flowed, kids grew high on E-numbers and everyone inevitably fell out by the time the Queen’s speech came on. “What I wouldn’t give to have five whole days to myself! God, if I had my time again I’d stay single, sis. Look at my roots and my nails. I’m a wreck. Take it from me – you’ve had a lucky escape!”
Since Beth was married to her childhood sweetheart (blond, smiley Sam) and had three children under six, she had no chance of alone time. She was constantly wiping noses/bottoms/kitchen surfaces or cooking dinners for her brood – and when she wasn’t doing this she was tidying up after Sam, who tended to make even more mess than the children. Being worked off his feet as a junior doctor, Sam was usually to be found asleep on the sofa or buried under a pile of Lego as soon as he managed to get a moment at home. It was true that Beth didn’t have much time to herself and generally looked as though she’d slept in a car, but her house was happy and filled with love and laughter, and Kat knew that her sister wouldn’t have it any other way. All the tidy flats, glossy hair and career development in the world didn’t equate to what Beth had, but Kat appreciated her sister’s efforts to make her feel better.
What did you say to somebody who’d been dumped by their long-term boyfriend? Kat suspected that when they were alone Beth and Sam secretly pitied her and were already trying to work out which relatively sane single friend they could set her up with. The thought made Kat shudder. The same went for her parents. They’d probably been sizing up potential suitors before Ed had even packed his bags. There was no way Kat could face a Christmas dinner sitting next to a suitable young man who’d just so happened to pop by; she couldn
’t cope with the thought of listening to her mother tell her how Nigel/Simon/Neil had a lovely singing voice/worked for Oxfam/was training to be a pastor (delete as appropriate). It didn’t require the psychoanalytical skills of Freud to work out why Kat had a dreadful habit of going for bad boys who ended up letting her down and breaking her heart. Ed now, and of course Alex Evans when she was eighteen…
Kat gave herself a mental shake at this point and the man sitting opposite her looked rather alarmed. Oh. Maybe that shake hadn’t been quite as mental as she’d thought. Blushing, Kat tucked strands of her dark brown curls behind her ears and resumed looking at her phone.
Honestly, what was the matter with her today? Kat didn’t want to think about Alex. The pain he’d caused her eighteen-year-old self made the breakup with Ed look like a small scratch. It had changed her forever, in the way that only first heartbreaks can. Sometimes Kat still caught a glimpse of raven-dark hair curling over the neck of a leather jacket and felt her heart leap before she stopped herself just in the nick of time. Even now the merest whiff of Lynx could take her whizzing back to those days. Somewhere at her parents’ house all his letters were hidden away in a battered old Quality Street tin, along with the song lyrics he’d written about Kat.
She made a mental note to dig all that lot out the next time she braved the parental pad, and bin it. She’d add the bits and pieces from Ed too. Not that he’d gone for such things quite as much; he’d certainly never written a song about her. Unlike musician Alex, the teen cliché with his guitar and hopes of being a rock star, science teacher Ed hadn’t been big on writing love songs or giving romantic gifts. No, Ed hadn’t been into sweeping gestures at all. With his attention to detail, structured career plan and smart suits he was the opposite of her teenage boyfriend in every possible way – which was probably one of the things that had first attracted Kat to him. How ironic that he’d turned out to be just as unreliable as Alex. It had been left to Kat to make the romantic gestures in their relationship, hence the booking of the pretty room in the Polwenna Bay Hotel for their perfect Christmas getaway.
The idea of a Christmas break had come to Kat quite by chance, as these ideas often do, and while she was supposed to be marking A-level coursework. Needing a respite from her students’ slaughtering of great literature, she’d been trawling the Internet when an email from her friend Tom had pinged through. Just seeing his name in her inbox had made Kat smile.
Tom, who was totally camp, was the much-liked ray of sunshine who’d been best friends with her and Alex at school. It was hard to imagine a more unlikely trio than the swot, the wannabe rocker and the comp’s answer to Alan Carr, but they’d stuck together right the way through to their GCSEs and beyond, until Alex had finished with Kat shortly before her A-level exams. After that, Alex was off Kat’s Christmas card list for life, but she’d kept in touch with Tom even though their paths had diverged over the years. University had followed for Kat, while Tom had pursued a travel and tourism diploma and then a succession of jobs in hotels. Sporadically Kat would receive a postcard from an exotic location where her old friend was working, and when they met up for a drink she’d hear all about the latest Caribbean hotel and be reduced to hopeless giggles with Tom’s stories about demanding guests. Every tale was told with high drama and, she was sure, great exaggeration – but it was fun to travel the world vicariously with him while she stayed in London and was ground down by the British education system. Tom never spoke of Alex, and Kat never asked, but she did hear on the grapevine that he’d followed his dream of working in the USA and was doing well out there. Apparently he was writing songs for some big names and was in great demand. He must feel that he’d made the right decision…
Kat had stopped her thoughts right there. After all, Alex was the past and that was where he ought to stay. She’d returned her attention to her email; she knew Tom was due home after a stint working in St Tropez, and she was looking forward to seeing him again. His message was probably to tell her what glamorous London hotel was lucky enough to employ him now. Kat had abandoned her marking, opened Tom’s email and discovered to her surprise that her old friend had taken a job at a boutique hotel in Cornwall. The name of the place sounded familiar. Hadn’t he worked there previously on a temporary contract? Evidently it had made quite an impression on Tom, as he’d now accepted a permanent position there.
Darling, you simply have to see this place!! It’s to die for. The rooms are divine, we have the most incredible chef and my boss, Ella, is fantastic – if a total slave driver! She’s given me the responsibility I’ve been looking for and I’m assistant manager now. The men here are simply gorgeous too – there are surfers and fishermen everywhere. I hardly know where to look, so many handsome guys in rubber!
Kat had smiled at this. She could almost hear Tom and picture the expression on his face. She knew that all this talk was just Tom playing to an audience though. The truth was that he was looking for love rather than casual encounters; if one of those wetsuited surfer dudes actually made a move, Tom would probably run a mile!
I know you’re with the Ed but even so, you’d still like the views! I mean the scenery, darling! What else? Please come and stay. I’d love you to see Polwenna Bay for yourself and it’s not as far to go as the Caribbean. I’ll do you a deal too – how about a romantic getaway for Christmas? Escape your ma’s dreadful cooking (don’t tell her I said that). Come and see this place for yourself!
Laughing, because her mother truly was a dreadful cook, Kat had scanned the rest of the email before clicking on the attached brochure. The pictures of the Polwenna Bay Hotel and the stunning coastline had been enough to undo her, and before she could stop herself Kat had been calling Tom and reserving the room. Ed had been so quiet – owing to work stress, Kat had been convinced – and a romantic break was exactly what they needed.
Except it wasn’t. As things turned out, Ed had been quiet because he’d been contemplating dumping Kat, not because he’d been busy at work or even (as she’d secretly suspected) planning a big surprise engagement on their third anniversary. Alas, the thought of spending Christmas in Cornwall with Kat was enough to prompt him to do the evil deed. One rainy Tuesday evening she’d come home from a meeting to find Ed’s belongings gone and a cold little note propped up against the kettle.
Even three months on and in the middle of an overcrowded train, Kat’s eyes now prickled dangerously at the memory.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Beth had said the last time they’d managed to sink a bottle of wine together and have a chat – which had been easier said than done in between the kids needing lengthy bedtime stories or toilet trips.
Kat had stared at her sister. “Err, because Ed’s my boyfriend? The man I love?”
“Bollocks,” Beth had snorted. “Don’t get me wrong: I don’t have anything against Ed. Who could? The guy’s so bland he makes natural yoghurt look like a vindaloo.”
“He’s not bland,” Kat had protested.
“So he liked the scarlet walls in your flat? And staying in on a Saturday night to clean is normal?”
“I think my flat looks great painted magnolia,” Kat had huffed, although her sister did have a point. Ed hadn’t appreciated her interior design experiments. “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to keep the place neat.”
Beth had raised an eyebrow. “Neat? Sis, at Elsie’s fifth birthday party I had to tell him to step away from the Wendy house when he said it was messy – and I thought he was going to have a meltdown when Olly dropped his jelly on the floor.”
Actually Kat had thought the same, but there was no way she was admitting this.
“It’s just the scientist in him, that’s all.”
“Oh, right! He only wanted to turn your home into a nice clean Petri dish, silly old me,” said Beth, and Kat had laughed in spite of herself. It was true: Ed was a bit of a neat freak, and Kat’s messy habits and cushion collection had driven him demented. He was fond of minimalism and clean line
s, whereas she was all chaos and clutter. Kat had liked to think that opposites attracted but unfortunately in this case it seemed they’d eventually repelled one another like the magnets in Ed’s science lab.
“Anyway,” Beth had added, “nice as Ed undoubtedly was in many ways, he’s hardly Alex, is he?”
And this was where the conversation had ended, because Kat had no intention of dredging up such ancient history. Besides, comparing Ed and Alex was totally unfair. The two men were complete opposites. Whereas Alex had been full of passion and danger and pure heart-stopping excitement, Ed was about pension plans and a secure and safe future. Or so she’d thought until he’d called it off.
All this introspection wasn’t doing much for her festive spirit. Kat caught sight of her reflection in the train’s window. A pale, heart-shaped face framed with thick brown hair stared sadly back at her. She did miss Ed: after three years together as colleagues, friends and lovers his absence had left a big gap in her life and in her hopes and dreams for the future. What this future now held, Kat had no idea – which was why the opportunity to have some time alone over the festive period was so welcome. Maybe she’d figure a few things out while she was in Cornwall?
That said, at one point she’d nearly backed out of coming. The thought of arriving at the hotel by herself and spending Christmas surrounded by loved-up couples had seemed so horrific that Kat had phoned Tom to cancel – but her old friend wasn’t having this.
“Come anyway,” he’d insisted. “What is it the feminists say? Women need men like fish need bicycles? There’s more to life than relationships, you know!”
This was rich coming from Tom, who fell in and out of love constantly, but unfortunately Kat had been unable to find a convincing enough feminist argument for saying no to the break. Besides, the idea of spa treatments and time out from the James family Christmas was very tempting. In the end she’d given in and booked herself a train ticket from Paddington to Cornwall. If it turned out to be a mistake to spend a solitary Christmas in Polwenna Bay, then at least she’d only have five days to feel sorry for herself. And who knew, if it was really so awful she might even get some coursework marking done.
Cornwall for Christmas: A Polwenna Bay novella Page 1
