Cornwall for Christmas: A Polwenna Bay novella

by Ruth Saberton

  Lord. She was actually contemplating spending her Christmas marking? Should she hurl herself from the train now? This was hardly getting in the festive holiday spirit, Kat thought wryly. Maybe she should elbow her way to the buffet car to grab a glass of wine and a mince pie? Or join in with the children sitting opposite who were chatting excitedly about what Santa was going to bring them. Nintendo Wiis and iPads, apparently. Santa had certainly upped his game since the Sindy dolls and satsumas that Kat recalled finding in her stocking. Well, while he was on the case, maybe this year Santa would bring her some happiness? Or at the very least mend her broken heart? Christmas was a time for miracles and magic, after all.

  Soon the green of the Home Counties smudged into brick-red earth, and the accents of the people joining the train became richer than clotted cream. Kat felt her spirits lift. Even the Cornish tourist board couldn’t have devised a better advert than the scenery passing by the window now. Short of a few pasties and maybe a bare-chested Ross Poldark, there wasn’t much more this county could do to take a girl’s mind off being dumped. Tom was right. This break was exactly what she needed.

  Cornwall for Christmas was going to be wonderful.

  Chapter 2

  “And she was dumped out of the blue by her boyfriend? She really had no idea?” Issie Tremaine shook her head in disbelief. “That’s awful. Poor girl.”

  “I know! She was simply devastated. One moment Ed was there, the next – poof! Gone! Three years vanished just like that!” Tom waggled his hands in emphasis, although the dramatic impact was slightly lessened by the comic effect of his rainbow-coloured mittens. Not that Issie was laughing at all. Rather, she was looking sympathetic – just as Tom had known she would. Issie was so caught up in the saga of Kat James’s Disastrous Love Life that she wasn’t even teasing him for wearing a scarlet bobble hat that clashed with his red hair.

  Tom and Issie were parked outside the station in the Tremaine Marine truck, waiting for the London train. Although the day was sunny it was bitterly cold, and to make matters worse the heating in the truck was broken; they’d both donned as many layers as possible, to avoid becoming hypothermic. Tom was grateful to Issie for offering to pick Kat up, but at the same time he was starting to wish he’d just shelled out for a taxi. At least that way he could have avoided frostbite and having a nose that matched the colour of his hat.

  Despite being deep in thought about Kat’s breakup, Tom couldn’t help sneaking a look at his reflection in the passenger vanity mirror and wincing. Cornwall might be beautiful and scenic but it totally messed with a man’s sense of style. His carefully gelled hair was bound to be wrecked by the time he took the hat off, and nobody would be able to tell that he was wearing Ralph Lauren beneath the smelly wax jacket Issie had lent him.

  “So what happened next?” Issie was asking. She’d never met Kat: although Tom had briefly worked in Polwenna Bay before, Kat hadn’t been able to visit him then – and more recently Issie had moved to Florida to be with her gorgeous man. (Bitch! Her tan was to die for and the man in question even more so.) All the same, Issie was agog at the story. Tom guessed this wasn’t just because he told it with exactly the right pace and plenty of theatrical pauses, but rather because Issie felt a sense of solidarity with the unlucky-in-love heroine.

  “Nothing,” he sighed. “Zero. Nada. Sweet FA.”

  “Nothing? She didn’t hit the town, get crazy drunk and pull? Stalk him on Facebook? Have a radical makeover?” Issie was counting these suggestions off on her gloved fingers. Clearly they were all tactics she’d employed herself over the years.

  Tom shook his head. “Not Kat’s style, darling. As far as I can make out she’s just buried herself in school work and eaten her heart out in silence.”

  “Blimey,” said Issie. “No wonder you think she deserves a break.”

  “It gets worse,” Tom said. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, even though Kat was still miles away up the track. “She booked this week at the hotel as a romantic Christmas getaway for her and her man.”

  “And now she’s coming alone?”

  Tom nodded sadly. “I told her she should make the most of some time to herself and enjoy the peace.”

  “But that’s awful!” Issie’s blue eyes were bright with sympathy. “Nobody should spend Christmas on their own. I can’t think of anything worse.”

  Since Issie’s family were numerous, noisy and exceedingly welcoming, there was no chance of any Tremaine ever spending Yuletide alone. Seaspray, the family home which stood sentinel on a hillside gazing across the rolling waves, was always filled with people. Whether it was the village vicar or the Pollards (a wily father-and-son builder duo) or the local postie drinking a cuppa after lugging his deliveries up the steep coastal path, it was unusual not to find at least one visitor there at any one time. Issie’s grandmother, Alice Tremaine, was an amazing cook and Tom always thought the climb up to the house worth it for her cakes alone. Since he’d first arrived in Polwenna Bay and made friends with Issie and her brother Nick, Tom had spent many happy hours chewing the fat (and cake) at Seaspray’s kitchen table – something evidenced by his now snug waistbands and his encyclopaedic knowledge of who was who in the village.

  “She’ll have to come over to Seaspray and have Christmas dinner with us,” Issie was saying firmly, caught up in a mission to save this new arrival from enduring a solitary Yuletide. “Granny Alice always cooks far too much anyway and we’ll invite her to our Boxing Day bash as well. That should be really good, especially if bloody Zak manages to haul his butt back home in time. Nobody parties like him.”

  Tom had heard this about Issie’s musician brother, and from a very reliable source too. Nonetheless, he was unwilling to give his trump card away just yet, even if keeping quiet was killing him. If he didn’t tell someone about his brilliant plan soon, he was certain he’d pop!

  “I’m sure Kat will be fine, Issie. Peace and quiet is exactly what she needs. And anyway, rest assured, her fairy godfather – aka moi – has a very special surprise up his sleeve!”

  “That sounds ominous. Do you mean surprise or do you actually mean shock?”

  Tom huffed at this, sending little clouds of breath heavenwards.

  “I know you mean well,” Issie continued, “and I’m sure you have a lovely surprise lined up, but are you certain it was a good idea to encourage your friend to come? Won’t it just remind her of what could have been with this Ed?”

  Actually Tom hadn’t thought about this. He’d been far too caught up in his simply brilliant idea – not that he had any intention of admitting so to Issie. Besides, if everything went according to plan then Kat would be having too much fun to waste a second’s thought on Ed.

  “Nope,” he said with total confidence, “it’ll be exactly what she needs to take her mind off it all. Kat deserves a break. She has to be the unluckiest girl when it comes to love. She has a dreadful talent for picking the wrong guys.”

  “Been there, done that,” sighed Issie. “Thank God for Luke.”

  Luke was six feet of bronzed American hunk and Tom didn’t blame Issie at all for thanking God for him. If he had a boyfriend like Luke, Tom would be singing the Hallelujah Chorus all day long.

  “And tell me, what have you done with Luke? I thought you two were joined at the lips!” he teased.

  Issie grinned. “There’s no way Luke would survive the temperature of this truck. He gets a sweater out if the air con falls below twenty-six degrees in our apartment! Right now he’s braving Truro for some last-minute shopping. Then it’s the pub and midnight Mass for us. Are you coming to that?”

  Tom nodded. Most of the villagers would head up the hill to the pretty little church. Jules, the local vicar, worked hard to keep the community together and he’d try his best to get over there – if his boss would allow it, that was. Ella St Milton was devoted to the hotel and although she was absolutely brilliant at what she did, she was something of a slave driver. Ella was also a stickler for doing thi
ngs properly, which meant that Tom’s great plan could come unstuck if Kat took exception to it.

  Or if the other party felt the same way too…

  For the first time since inspiration had struck him, Tom felt a little prickle of unease. He dismissed it hastily. Of course they’d both be pleased. Why wouldn’t they? It was the perfect romantic surprise, and what better time or location for it to happen than pretty Polwenna Bay on Christmas Eve? There was nothing to be worried about. They’d both be thanking him tomorrow and he’d probably be best man at their wedding too, or maid of honour depending on who requested his services first. Yes, Tom told himself firmly, everything was going to work out just beautifully. Of course it was! This was Christmas and magic was in the air. Nobody could arrive in Polwenna Bay and fail to feel it. The village Christmas tree twinkled on the green and the houses all around the harbour were festooned with fairy lights that spilled trembling reflections into the water. Log fires burned in the pub, the cottage windows threw warmth into the December darkness and the streets were adorned with lights made from an assortment of red, blue and yellow seaside buckets. Add the exquisitely decorated hotel and the string quartet that would be playing carols in the lobby and there you had it – the perfect Christmas setting. Just mix into this a mulled wine or two and a surprise from the past, and bingo! Romance was guaranteed.

  Tom felt very smug at this thought; certainly any misgivings he might have had vanished when he saw the London train pull into the station. This was going to be simply brilliant! He could hardly wait to see Kat’s face when she realised what he’d been up to. God, but he was a good friend, even if he said so himself!

  “Just call me Christmas Cupid,” Tom said aloud as he eased his frozen limbs out of the truck – if anything it was warmer outside the cab than in it – and followed Issie towards the station. “Or the fairy godfather. Either’s fine by me!”

  This was going to be amazing. Kat was in for such a wonderful surprise!

  What was it with wheelie cases that they never wanted to wheel straight? Kat wondered as she tugged her bag behind her and almost turned it over. To be honest, it was a cheap supermarket special and rather squashed now after four hours of being rammed in the overstuffed luggage area, but even so surely it could just do its best to go in a straight line? Giving up, she grabbed the carry-handle and heaved the case in the old-fashioned way, falling behind the stream of other passengers who’d alighted here.

  As the crowd thinned out and she paused to switch hands, Kat became aware of the sharpness of the air. The light seemed brighter too, and although the sun was low in the sky it made the icy hedges in the distance sparkle like the glitter on the Christmas decorations the children opposite her had made on the journey. The sky seemed to stretch forever, bright chilly blue against the naked branches of wintery trees and bare brown fields of corduroy plough. It was another world compared with the hemmed-in city she’d left behind, and she could hardly wait to explore.

  Ahead of Kat people were greeting their friends and families. Cries of joy filled the air as loved ones were reunited for Christmas – and although being here alone had been entirely her own choice, Kat felt a little pang of loneliness. This soon vanished though, as she caught sight of a familiar figure. He was swaddled in a wax jacket, wearing a bright red bobble hat and waving at her with enormous enthusiasm.

  “Tom!” Her face splitting into a delighted grin, Kat dumped the recalcitrant case on the ground and dragged it behind her, no longer caring whether it bounced and buckled. Moments later she was engulfed in a big bear hug, albeit one that smelt a little horsey and musty. Country life must be changing her friend: Tom usually smelt of Bleu de Chanel. And what on earth was going on with that hat?

  “I know, I know; I look an absolute fright,” Tom said, rolling his eyes when he caught her look of surprise. “But let me tell you, darling, that Cornwall in December is bloody cold!”

  “It suits you! I think I need to go hat shopping,” she laughed.

  “Oh there’s no need for that: we’ve got hundreds at our place, so help yourself,” said the pretty blonde girl who’d joined them. Blue eyes twinkled out from a tanned face, and Kat found herself smiling back even though she didn’t have a clue who this stranger was.

  “Kat James, meet Issie Tremaine. She’s my chauffeur – although her truck leaves a lot to be desired,” Tom explained.

  Issie walloped him on the arm. “Don’t ever dis the Tremaine Marine truck. It’s going to get us home in one piece on these icy roads.”

  “If we don’t freeze to death inside it first,” Tom grumbled.

  “There’s no pleasing some people,” Issie said to Kat.

  “If it’s not a red Ferrari driven by Harry Styles then I’m afraid Tom won’t be impressed,” Kat told her.

  Issie laughed. “So true. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Kat. Tom’s told me lots about you.”

  Kat felt alarmed. Much as she loved her old friend, he had a mouth the size of the Channel Tunnel and was to discretion what her bottom-set year-eleven class was to quantum physics.

  “All nice, of course,” Issie added swiftly when Tom shot her a look.

  Kat groaned inwardly. That was that for anonymity then. Issie Tremaine and most of the town probably knew all the details of her (lack of) love life and how she was alone for what should have been the most romantic Christmas ever.

  “You’re going to have an amazing time,” Tom promised as he took Kat’s case and tucked his arm through hers. “The hotel looks simply gorge and your room is beautiful.”

  “Not that you’re going to hole up there,” Issie said firmly. “You’re going to have a brilliant time in Polwenna Bay. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone – and you’ve got to come to our Boxing Day party. It’s going to be brilliant! We’ve got a band and everything!”

  “And you thought life in Cornwall was quiet,” Tom said to Kat with a grin. “Christmas here is go, go, go. Girlfriend! You are in for a treat!”

  Kat’s head, already pounding from the stress of end of term and several hours of marking on the journey, started to spin. So much for a quiet break. It sounded as though Tom and his friend Issie were preparing to party hard. As she squashed herself into the back seat of the truck, cosying up with a dismantled outboard engine and what looked and smelt like a crab pot, Kat decided that she’d have to take Tom aside and tell him that what she actually wanted was a rest.

  While Issie drove them through a tangle of sunken lanes and Tom pointed out landmarks, Kat shoved away any self-pitying thoughts and concentrated on enjoying the landscape. Already the daylight was fading fast and twilight was seeping from the hedges and copses. Deep purple shadows crept over the fields and, high above them, the stars began to peep out. As Issie guided the truck down a steep hill, its headlamps swept the road and then revealed a sharp twist to the left; abruptly, lights shone out of the gloom as they approached a village. Cottages clung to the sides of the valley, and directly opposite was a small church topped with a cross of silver lights. Below that was a harbour filled with boats, their rigging threaded with illuminations that made them seem almost magical in the darkening water. At the end of the quay huddled a whitewashed pub hemmed with fairy lights. Every now and again its door opened as Christmas revellers entered, while the trawlers moored along the wall nearby tugged at their bow ropes as though they wanted to follow the pub-goers inside for a hot toddy. Kat recognised the scene instantly: this was Polwenna Bay. She gasped because the Internet hadn’t done it justice. It had to be the prettiest village she’d ever seen.

  “You’ve got to have a drink in The Ship,” Issie was saying to Kat now. “It’s the best pub ever.”

  Kat nodded. This was the spot where she’d imagined reading her book by a fire and eating seafood. “It’s on my list.”

  “No time like the present!” Tom said.

  “I’m hardly dressed for going out,” Kat protested, but her old friend wasn’t having any of it. He seemed very keen to get her into the
pub.

  “Rubbish! You look gorgeous. I love those sexy knee boots and you’re totally rocking the dishevelled rock-chick hairdo!”

  Dishevelled rock chick sounded great in theory but the reality was that Kat hadn’t brushed her hair since Paddington, and the fug of the train had undone all the hard work of her straighteners. Rubbing her eyes while concentrating on marking coursework had made her look like a panda too. All in all, she looked a mess.

  “I’m a state!”

  “It doesn’t matter; no one cares what you look like in Polwenna Bay,” Tom insisted, although Kat noticed that as he said this he was tugging off his bobble hat and doing his hair in the wing mirror.

  “It’s true,” Issie agreed. “I know it’s only early but, believe me, everyone will have been stuck into the mulled wine for hours and they probably won’t even be able to focus on you, let alone worry about what you look like. I’ll drop you guys off and park at the marina, then we can welcome Kat to Polwenna in style.”

  “Brilliant!” said Tom. “First round’s on me! Who’s for snowballs? Or shall we play drinking games with pints of Baileys?”

  “Shouldn’t I check in at the hotel first?” Kat asked, alarmed. When Tom partied she knew there was no stopping him and, dull as she probably was, she’d been looking forward to trying out the Jacuzzi bath before flopping onto that big bed topped with marshmallow pillows and enjoying some mindless telly. Maybe she’d even experiment with room service too and drink the champagne she’d originally ordered for herself and Ed.

  But Tom was glancing at his watch and pulling an outraged face. “Not yet, darling. It’s only mid-afternoon – and anyway, it’s Christmas Eve! You can’t hide in a hotel room on Christmas Eve. I simply won’t allow it. We’ll have a couple of drinks here and then I’ll get us a taxi up to the hotel.”