Cornwall for Christmas: A Polwenna Bay novella

by Ruth Saberton

  Kat brushed herself down and continued along the path, albeit in a more sedate fashion now. As it twisted sharply to the left she gasped, and for a moment she forgot everything else, because the view of Polwenna Bay falling away before her was simply stunning. While she stood temporarily lost in the beauty of this Cornish Christmas Eve, her tears began to dry.

  Although it wasn’t a snowy night the air was bitter; already a hoar frost was sparkling on the cottage rooftops and glittering on hedges and fence posts. The black sky was thick with stars. She raised her head to look at them, then felt so giddy and small that she swiftly returned her attention to the twinkling lights of the village. A pretty Christmas tree threw dancing shards of colour onto the harbour, and across the water Kat spotted the pub she’d visited earlier with Tom and Issie. That carefree hour or so felt like another lifetime now. Kat turned in the opposite direction. Winding through quiet backstreets before crossing a river and climbing a steep hill, she realised that she was walking towards the church. Something about the welcoming light that spilled from the stained-glass windows drew her and, to her surprise, Kat found herself venturing into the old building.

  The door closed softly behind her and as she stood just inside the church, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Kat felt the prayers of centuries wrap themselves around her like a scarf. It was probably too late to pray for a happy Christmas but at least for a moment or two she would have a little peace. She could gather her thoughts and pull herself together before returning to the hotel and facing whatever came next – although there was no way it would be dinner and chatting about the good old days, whatever Alex might think.

  She took a deep, calming breath. So what if he was even more handsome now than he’d been back then? And so what if he’d once broken her heart? That was all years ago and when they were kids. It was the shock of seeing him so unexpectedly that had upset her, that was all.

  And just wait until she got her hands on Tom…

  There was a gentle throat-clearing and Kat jumped.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just plugging the tree in. I don’t normally lurk in the shadows and leap out on visitors, I promise, although it might be one way to get our numbers up and make the bishop happy!” A sweet-faced woman stepped forward from behind the Christmas tree, holding out her hand and smiling warmly. “I’m Jules Mathieson, the vicar of St Wenn’s.”

  “I’m Kat James,” Kat said, smiling back because she’d never met a vicar quite like this. Jules couldn’t have been much older than she was, and she was wearing ripped jeans and a Star Wars hoody. Not only that, but she was sporting a mop of bright red hair that was an exact match for the flower displays in the church.

  “I had a bit of an accident with some home hair dye and was daft enough to let Kursa – that’s our local hairdresser – try and fix it for me,” sighed the vicar, seeing Kat look. “It’ll grow out. Or at least I hope it will.”

  “It’s very festive,” Kat offered, and Jules laughed.

  “I look like a holly berry, you mean! Or maybe a walking bauble? Still, never mind. There are worse things in life than a bad hair day.”

  She wasn’t wrong there, thought Kat.

  “So what brings you up to St Wenn’s?” Jules was asking. “It’s a bit early yet for midnight Mass.”

  Kat shrugged. “I was out walking and just ended up here.”

  The vicar nodded but didn’t ask anything else. To her surprise Kat found she wanted to tell Jules a little more. After all, who just decided to go out walking all alone on a bitterly cold Christmas Eve? The vicar must think she was nuts.

  “I’m here on holiday,” she began, “or rather I’m supposed to be but it’s all ruined now.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that,” Jules said. “This is a wonderful place to have a break and I think Christmas in Cornwall is particularly special. Then again, when things aren’t going so well this can be the hardest time of year, can’t it?”

  Kat nodded. To her dismay tears spilled over her cheeks.

  “Sorry,” she said, brushing them away impatiently. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m probably tired and I know I’m cold.”

  Jules flicked a look at her watch. “I’ve got a couple of hours until it all kicks off here and I was going home to heat up some soup. It’s a bacon and lentil one that my partner’s granny made and it’s amazing – the spoon practically stands up in it – so why don’t you come and share some with me? Tell you what, I’ll even break my party-frock diet and bring out the crusty bread and butter.”

  At just the thought of this, Kat’s stomach growled. It had been a long, long time since her sandwich.

  “Are you sure?”

  The scarlet head nodded. “You’ll be doing me a favour; I’ll scoff the whole lot otherwise.”

  So Kat soon found herself in a cosy kitchen eating supper with Polwenna Bay’s vicar. The soup was every bit as good as Jules had promised – and it must have contained the truth drug as well as lentils, because while she ate Kat found herself telling the vicar about the strange events of the past few hours. Jules didn’t say much but she listened carefully and her kind eyes were full of sympathy.

  “Oh dear, that sounds classic Tom behaviour,” she sighed once Kat had run out of words. “He means well but, yes, it’s often a little misplaced.”

  “You know Tom?”

  “Everyone knows everyone here,” Jules told her. “It’s a small village.”

  “Too small for me and Alex. There’s no way I can stay now,” Kat said firmly.

  Jules looked puzzled. “Why not?”

  Why not? Had the vicar even listened to a word she’d said?

  “Because Alex will be here and there’s no way I want to see him.”

  “But you said you were over Alex. So what does it matter if he’s here if, as you say, it’s all in the past?”

  Now it was Kat’s turn to frown. Jules had a point. If it was all years ago then why did it matter so much? She was supposed to be having a rest and getting over Ed, so why was she even more upset about seeing Alex than she was about her more recent breakup? Honestly, Kat was beyond furious with herself. She was almost thirty yet she was behaving as irrationally as the teenagers in her classroom!

  “Oh! I don’t know,” she said, and even to her own ears she sounded as sulky as her students usually did. “It’s so frustrating! I just wish he’d push off instead of trying to talk to me. He even suggested dinner. Dinner! What a nerve!”

  Jules leaned back in her chair. “It sounds to me as though Alex hurt you very badly when you were eighteen. That kind of thing can be really hard to get over. My partner’s brother Jake had his heart broken when he was eighteen too.”

  “And?” Kat asked. “It sounds as though that isn’t the end of the story?”

  “It isn’t. His girlfriend made a big mistake. She left him to go to drama school in London, but she regretted that decision for years – even though she had a successful career and became very famous. It’s a long story but in the end she came home and they worked it through. That said, I know they both really regret leaving it so long and wasting so much time.”

  Kat stared down at her hands. They were gripping the table as though holding on for grim death. “I don’t think Alex regrets anything. He couldn’t leave quick enough.”

  “Have you asked him?”

  She looked up, shocked. “What? No, no way. Of course not.”

  “So,” said Jules carefully, “when Alex said that he wanted to have a truce and be friends you don’t think that he meant it? Or that it might be a good idea to clear the air so that you really can put it all behind you? Or that maybe he feels just as upset as you do right now? You were both very young when it all happened.”

  Kat shrugged. “Maybe?”

  “I’m no expert,” Jules said, “and of course this is entirely your call, but I have seen what happens when people hide their emotions and carry a
round resentment and guilt for years. It doesn’t make them very happy.”

  Until she’d bumped into Alex earlier this evening, Kat hadn’t been aware that she had been carrying resentment and anger around. She realised now that she must have become used to the weight of all these emotions. They were as much a part of her now as her curly hair and hot temper.

  “He broke my heart,” she said bleakly.

  Jules sighed. “Yes, I can see that and it must have been dreadful for you – and an even worse shock to see him tonight – but you’re here now and Polwenna Bay is such a lovely place that it would be a terrible shame not to enjoy your holiday. It’s also a very small village and blooming hard to avoid people.” She paused and then added, “Besides, it’s Christmas. What better time to think about forgiveness and goodwill to all men?”

  Kat grimaced. “Even ex-boyfriends?”

  “Even them, I’m afraid!” laughed Jules. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t point that out! I’d say listen to your heart, Kat, because that’s when miracles happen. Your heart is never wrong so you should trust it.”

  Kat thought about this for a bit. Talking to Jules, and having a full stomach, was certainly putting a new complexion on things. She didn’t feel nearly as upset now as she had earlier. Maybe she’d overreacted just a little? It had been a stressful term, during which she’d been trying to cope with her breakup from Ed as well as worrying about work – and then there’d been the long train journey today. Seeing Alex had just been the final straw. He was her past and facing it had been a shock. It didn’t mean she still had feelings for him. In fact, what better way to prove that she was well and truly over Alex Evans than to be civil to him? That would be the grown-up way to deal with things, rather than shouting and getting angry. Besides, she was only here for five days. She’d hardly see him.

  Hopefully.

  She exhaled, feeling the tension start to slide away. Maybe her heart was telling her that all would be well? That Alex was her past and that she was finally able to let the old hurts and resentments go?

  “Maybe you’re right,” Kat said eventually. “It is Christmas, after all.”

  Jules looked thrilled. “Wow. Somebody who actually listens to me! Can you stay here forever, please? Maybe tell my congregation all about the joys of forgiveness? They do like to squabble.”

  But Kat shook her head at this. “Steady on! I never said anything about forgiving Alex! I just won’t murder him in the next five days. How about that?”

  The vicar smiled. “I guess with that I have to be content. But bear in mind, Kat, the Lord does like to work in very mysterious ways. The more mysterious the better in my experience!”

  And rising to make them both coffee, she left Kat sitting at the table and trying hard to figure out exactly what this might mean.

  Chapter 8

  “You did what?” Ella St Milton stared at her assistant manager in disbelief: she simply couldn’t comprehend what she was hearing. “Have you gone totally insane?”

  “I was trying to help,” Tom said, looking mutinous.

  “By booking them into the same room when they had absolutely no idea whatsoever?”

  Put like this, even Tom could see that his brilliant idea sounded slightly mad. When he’d found five missed calls from his boss and a very curt message telling him to get his backside up to the hotel pronto if he still wanted to have a job on the twenty-fifth of December, he’d realised that things hadn’t quite gone according to plan. Following on from Alex’s call, Kat’s total silence hadn’t boded well. Feeling nervous, Tom had abandoned the Christmas Eve celebrations in the village and returned to the hotel. One huge rollicking from Ella later, he was starting to wish he’d just chucked his phone in the River Wenn and hoped for the best.

  “No wonder Mr Evans was confused when I said his wife was already here,” Ella was saying. “And as for Miss James…” She shook her blonde head in despair. “I owe her a huge apology. This was our mistake all along. Or rather,” she added darkly, pinning Tom with a look that make his knees wobble, “your mistake. How are you going to put this right?”

  Tom wasn’t sure. He supposed he could ask Alex to stay with him in his small flat. That could be fun but was hardly the relaxing break he’d offered his friend. Perhaps Kat would be up for a bit of bonding for old time’s sake? It had been a while since they’d been up all night drinking wine and moaning about the crap men in their lives.

  Hmm. On reflection maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. For all Tom knew, Kat had now placed him firmly in the crap men category too. He was still racking his brains for an idea when Alex arrived at the reception desk, flanked by Zak and Symon Tremaine.

  “There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere,” cried Zak, launching himself at Tom in an attempt to hug him, but missing and cannoning into the reception desk instead. “Oops! Mulled wine was stronger than I thought,” he added to Ella with a big smile.

  But unfortunately for Zak Tremaine, Ella St Milton was one of the few females on the planet who was immune to his charm.

  “You’re drunk,” she said, her perfect nose crinkling in distaste.

  “A little bit,” agreed Zak, “which is why I’m brave enough to do this!”

  Whipping a sprig of tired mistletoe from his pocket he leaned across the desk and planted a kiss on her immaculately made-up cheek. Tom thought this was either very brave or an indication of just how drunk Zak was. It must be a bit like kissing a very cross T-rex.

  “Merry Christmas!” cried Zak, and then when she shot him a lethal stare: “Oh, come on, Ella. Can’t you smile for once? We’re going to be related soon, after all.”

  “Don’t remind me,” muttered Ella, wiping her cheek pointedly.

  “Sorry about my brother,” Symon Tremaine said, giving Ella an apologetic look as he grabbed the collar of Zak’s leather jacket and hauled him back across the desk. “He’s had a flight and a few too many drinks. Not a great combination.”

  “It’s obviously way past his bedtime,” Ella replied cuttingly. “I’d get him home fast before Santa sees him misbehaving.”

  “This is me being good! I can be very, very bad though,” Zak assured her, not at all crushed and now treating her to the crinkle-eyed twinkly grin that always made his audiences melt. “Oh come on, Ella. I’m teasing you. Unless you want me to show you just how bad I can really be – before we’re related?”

  “Cut it out,” said Symon quietly to his brother. There was iron in his voice and Tom was reminded that although Symon Tremaine was softly spoken and rarely seen outside his restaurant, he was not to be messed with.

  “Sorry, Ells,” Zak said. “Just getting in the Christmas spirit. You know how it is.”

  But Ella was ignoring Zak and had resumed her professional manner. All her attention was now focused on Alex. “Mr Evans, I do apologise for the mistake with your room. The error is totally on the part of the Polwenna Bay Hotel and of course we’ll make amends. Or rather, our Assistant Manager will.”

  “There goes your firstborn son,” said Zak to Tom.

  Alex laughed at this. Phew, thought Tom. Something had obviously cheered his friend up since their earlier phone call.

  “Hey, it’s cool,” Alex told Ella. “Besides, I’ve known Tom long enough to be more than aware that sometimes these things accidentally happen. I’m going to stay with Zak up at Seaspray. If you could let Miss James know that the room’s all hers, I’d be most grateful.”

  “Back to The Ship for a Christmas Eve lock-in?” asked Zak.

  “We’re all off to midnight Mass, remember?” Symon reminded his brother firmly. “Granny Alice and Jules are expecting all of us to be there.”

  Tom was horrified. Alex was going to be staying at Seaspray? No way! That wasn’t the plan at all! He was supposed to spend Christmas Eve here with Kat, in a beautiful hotel where they’d be swept away by romance and memories and fall into one another’s arms to live happily ever after. Drinking with Zak Tremaine was not going to he
lp Alex and Kat rekindle their lost love. Alex and Kat couldn’t spend Christmas apart. No way!

  As Alex went to fetch his bag, Tom joined the Tremaine brothers in the hotel bar, where Zak was already charming the barmaid into pouring him a glass of free champagne. Tom was frantically trying to come up with a way to save his plan. Alex and Kat might be annoyed at him right now but he knew they were meant to be together. He just had to find a way to make them see it. Lord. They were as stubborn as each other.

  If there was ever a time requiring a little sprinkling of Christmas magic, this was it…

  “Well, Tom, this is all getting interesting,” said Zak as they sat at the bar. “Evil Ella’s fuming, Alex is without the break he desperately needed after the year from hell his awful ex-wife has put him through, and God only knows what your friend Kat thinks is going on. What happens to people you hate if this is what you do to those you like?”

  “I was only trying to help.” Tom felt most misunderstood. “Kat and Ally are made for each other; they always were. They just need time to see it and sort things out. Things will work out fine, you’ll see. It’s Christmas, after all.”

  “Ah yes, Christmas,” agreed Zak. “Cue Hugh Grant, a snowstorm and Bridget Jones, eh? If it’s the festive season, then all will be well.”

  Symon laughed – rather bitterly, Tom thought. “I don’t think the time of year has got much to do with it. If things are over, then, believe me, they’re over. If my girlfriend—”

  Symon stopped in mid-flow. Tom and Zak stared at him, intrigued. Symon Tremaine was exceptionally private and never spoke about his personal life. When he’d returned abruptly from France, abandoning his job as sous-chef at a top Parisian restaurant, there had been lots of gossip about a woman being involved, but nobody knew for sure. Tom thought that Sy, with his fox-red hair and deep blue eyes, was simply delish; he couldn’t understand why Sy remained resolutely single. He would have put money on it that somebody somewhere had hurt Sy very deeply.

  “Anyway, the point is you shouldn’t have interfered,” Symon amended swiftly, leaving whatever it was he’d been about to say hanging tantalisingly in the air. “It’s never a good idea to meddle in other people’s relationships.”