‘Because time heals?’ I ask, feeling cold with despair as the disappointment starts to sink in.
‘No, but it gives us chance to kid ourselves we’re OK. It gives us the breathing space. Rant at me but don’t take this disappointment and rage home to Demi. I know I said there’s still hope, but part of me thinks it would be better if you let it go. I feel bad enough for even allowing you to hope, but I’d feel even worse if I’d kept the news from you.’
‘Never be afraid to give me hope.’
She gets up and hugs me. Only briefly because Carolyn, for all her compassion, is not a huggy person, even to her friends or family. I don’t think she dares get that close to anyone these days.
She lets me go and I blow out a breath. ‘A hug. Wow. You must be worried about me.’
She smiles. ‘Nope, I needed one myself. It’s no hardship that it’s you.’
I laugh. ‘Even looking like death warmed up.’
‘I won’t flatter you any more. Now, finish that bloody awful tea, have a moan and then piss off back to Cornwall for this celebrity wedding.’
‘Jesus. That. I can’t …’
‘You can. It’s your livelihood and it’s Demi’s, and the people who work with you. You owe it to them to make that place work because I sure as hell won’t have you back working for me.’
‘Thanks for nothing, boss.’
She thrusts the biscuit packet at me. ‘Shut up and have another Hobnob. It’s an order.’
‘Hi, how was it? Is she found? I texted you but I didn’t get a reply and I thought you might be busy with Carolyn or speaking to Esme on the phone …’
‘It wasn’t her, unfortunately.’
Demi’s smile fades. Her disappointment revives mine and it saws at me like a knife. She’s joined me in a pub near the station. At five-thirty p.m., there’s standing room only and we’re hemmed in on every side by tourists and workers laughing and celebrating the end of the working day. Even if I wanted to shout and scream, I couldn’t do it here and that’s probably a good thing for both of us.
‘Oh no, Cal. Is there no news?’
‘Not of her specifically but one of Carolyn’s staff said that she’s heard that Esme’s uncle was spotted in a camp in Northern Greece. But the girl that the staff member thought was her turned out not to be related at all and the uncle has vanished. He’s probably moved on now.’
‘I’m really sorry. I don’t know what to say.’
‘There’s nothing more to say. Let me get you a drink then I want to hear all about your day with your publisher.’
‘My good news about the book doesn’t seem important compared to your bad news.’
‘Don’t ever let me hear you say that again,’ I say, more fiercely than I mean, judging by her flinch. I attempt to do my brooding scowl though it’s the very last thing I feel like doing. ‘That’s an order from the Hot Vampire,’ I say, joking about the nickname she had for me when we first met. She rolls her eyes then breaks into a smile. ‘Look, there’s a stool and a table free up the corner. Grab it while I get the drinks.’
A while later, I’m back at the table. The crowds have thinned slightly and I find a seat next to Demi’s.
‘So. How was the glamorous world of publishing?’ I ask, aware that every word sounds like I’m being sarcastic though I really don’t mean to be. I want, desperately want, to be engaged in her answers and her breathy excitement, for her sake and mine.
‘They showed us the cover and some of the initial photography. Oh. My. God. You should see it – I can’t believe how beautiful it is! I can’t believe my name will be on the cover and, oh shit, I almost actually cried. I had to pretend I was going to sneeze because the tears were in my eyes. I’ve got the images on my tablet. Do you want to see them now or when we’re on the train?’
‘Now. I can’t wait until then.’
‘OK. You won’t believe it.’
Demi shows me the cover of her book and the photos of some of the recipes and dogs that the publisher has shot. I want to cry too, because they’re lovely photos but mostly because she is so happy and excited. No matter how low I felt when I walked into this pub, seeing her ready to pop with joy is almost more than I can take. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d been coming to this pub on my own after the disappointment earlier: if I’d been travelling home to Kilhallon on my own.
‘What do you think?’ she says.
‘I think they’re brilliant. You’re brilliant.’ I lean over and kiss her, tasting wine on her lips and feeling the excitement in her body.
‘I didn’t do that much and I feel like a bit of a fraud. I provided some of the dog’s recipes and most of the human ones but Eva did a lot of the introductions and the publisher has commissioned all the photos and the design. I need to get some pictures of Mitch done next but the photographer’s coming to Cornwall to do those. I also thought of asking Lily if she’d mind Louie being in the book. Eva and the editor went wild when I mentioned it and I almost wished I hadn’t in case it doesn’t come off. They want me to get Lily to write a foreword. I need to get that sorted before the wedding fair because our deadline’s approaching. Now, what do you think about …’
Demi carries on chatting, sipping her wine and flicking through photos and generally bubbling over like a glass of champagne. For myself, celebration is the last thing on my mind but being here with her is the ultimate comfort. She looks stunning too, those skinny jeans show her impossibly pert bum to perfection, the heeled boots make her legs seem even longer and her chestnut hair is piled in a messy-sexy way on top of her head and makes me want to drag her straight off to bed. I need to get her home to Kilhallon and lose myself in her right now, but it’s time to get our train and I’m not sure First Great Western will approve of me doing that on the six thirty-nine to Penzance.
It’s dark and drizzly when I wake up, just as our train pulls into Penzance station. My whole left side is numb where Demi has been asleep on my shoulder. The train manager’s voice is telling us to collect all our belongings. It’s fortunate we’ve reached the end of the line, or I might have dozed my way off the end of Cornwall and into the Atlantic, taking Demi with me. I shake her gently awake.
‘We’re home,’ I say and the words give me a small lift, like the first sip of whisky when the heat hits the back of your throat and warms your stomach. Kilhallon soothes me, Demi too. With my rucksack on my back and a bag with a gift for Polly, we make our way to the car park. Sheets of fine rain are blown across the tarmac like grey veils. The orange lights reflect in puddles. Strange to think that in a few hours it will be dawn again.
I know why I couldn’t speak when Carolyn first accused me of pursuing Esme to purge my guilt. It was one of those times when you can’t answer because you’re too angry with someone for daring to say what you know in your heart to be true. Because they’ve spoken the doubt that’s been gnawing at a raw corner of you.
‘Cal …’
Demi speaks to me when we reach the Land Rover. Despite the rain, she throws her arms around me. ‘I’m sorry. Really, really sorry for what happened to you today. It’s shit. It’s totally shit and you must be shattered.’
It is, indeed, shit. But being held by Demi isn’t shit. It’s the best thing, by far, in my life. I’m lucky to be here to enjoy what I have. Bloody lucky.
‘I should have known it might end in disappointment. I shouldn’t have raised my hopes. Carolyn did warn me at the very start not to be too optimistic. She said it was a slim chance.’
‘You couldn’t help it. Don’t lose hope. Not yet,’ she says. I touch my face to hers.
‘I think I have to.’
She whispers something I can’t hear. I have her. I’m here. It’s time to leave everything that happened behind me and move on. The rain chases itself across the car park. Demi’s hair is plastered to her face. I taste the rain on my lips: cold fresh water, maybe not so clean but at least I know I’m alive.
‘Let’s go home,’ she says.
/> I climb into the car and watch Penzance roll by in an orange haze as she drives us home. It’s time to let go of the past and be grateful for what I have: Demi, Polly, Robyn, Kilhallon, my friends – even Mawgan Cade, God help me, isn’t actually out to bomb my home and kill me. It’s time to get on with the rest of my life, however silly and trivial that seems right now – and if a barking mad celebrity wedding is my salvation then bring it on.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Demi
After Cal’s bitter disappointment in London last week I thought he’d find it hard to summon up any enthusiasm for the wedding fair next Sunday but he’s surprised me by throwing himself into the whole thing with enthusiasm. He arranged a meeting with my dad to discuss the electrics and has met with a mate of Dad’s who does the sound and lighting for music festivals. Cal drew up some designs for the archway and has promised to liaise with the florist that Rachel has booked for the wedding and invited to the fair.
The arrival of April seems to have put everyone in the wedding mood. I’ve made some mini scones and I’m trying to come up with a sophisticated way of putting the jam and cream on them and possibly a tiny strawberry. I want to perfect them so I can show them to Lily when she flies in – literally – after the wedding fair. Ben has a shoot so he might not be able to make it but Lily has recently finished a one-off US TV drama and can spare a couple of hours before she has to do some promotion for a film.
Just as I’m trying to pipe a tiny rosette of clotted cream onto the scone, which is spread with Polly’s homemade jam, the reception bell rings. I wait for Cal to answer it because he’s working in his study. Polly’s gone to the dentist.
‘Cal!’ I call, balancing the scone lid on the cream rosette.
The bell rings again. Abandoning the scone I grab a tea towel to wipe my hands and scoot along to Cal’s office. ‘Cal, can you see who’s in reception? I’m baking.’ His office is empty and the bell dings again so I resign myself to greeting the visitor. With my ‘Welcome to Kilhallon’ smile firmly in place, I open the door to reception.
A tall man, with tawny hair curling into his collar, smiles at me from the other side of the reception counter. For a moment or two, I’m speechless, hardly able to believe my eyes.
‘Kit! What are you doing here?’
The last person I expected to rock up today was Kit Bannen. My first thought is that I wonder how Cal will react when he finds his half-brother on the doorstep. Cal didn’t even know Kit existed until just before Christmas and after a disastrous start, their relationship is still on fragile ground.
‘What do you think? I’ve come to read the electricity meter,’ he says, then points to the rucksack next to him on the tiles. ‘I’m supposed to be staying here.’
‘You … But … I didn’t even know you’d booked in here … and … are we expecting you?’
He smiles. ‘Yes and no. I booked online a couple of days ago but I wanted it to be a surprise so a mate made the reservation in her name and with her credit card. I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome but now I’m slightly regretting the subterfuge. I hope Cal won’t be too angry. Or you.’
‘No. No, I don’t think so. You should have phoned us, though. It um … might be a shock to him.’
‘Sorry. I realise that, but I only decided to come a few days ago. Is he in? If so, I’d rather get the meeting over with and see if he’ll let me stay or chuck me out again.’
‘You know he won’t throw you out. He told me you’ve spoken to him a couple of times since Christmas.’
‘Yes, I phoned twice in the new year to see how the village was doing and if I could do anything else to help. He said no, but it was a reasonably polite no, not a “piss off, you git” kind of no.’
‘That’s probably major progress with Cal.’
‘Hmm. We didn’t exactly get off on the right note but I’m trying to put that behind me.’ He pushes a lock of hair out of his eyes. His hair has grown since Christmas and he looks more like a laid-back surf dude than ever. I know he’s neither laid-back or a surfer: he’s as edgy and unpredictable as Cal beneath the surface charm. While it’s good to see him and even though he seemed to have turned over a new leaf at Christmas, part of me is still wary of his motives in being at Kilhallon.
‘All of us are trying to put things behind us,’ I say. Cal’s tried to put a brave face on things but I caught him staring out of the window most of the way home from London, as if he might find Esme out in the darkness. Cal thought I was asleep but I saw the pain in his eyes and I’ve seen him scrolling through social media since he’s been back, hoping to find out about her. I worry about him but there’s nothing more I can do.
‘I have a lot of bridges to build here. Make that the Severn, the Forth and the Humber combined, in fact. Has Cal mentioned me much?’
I neglect to say that I don’t think Kit will ever quite gain Cal’s trust but it’s good if he wants to try.
‘Not really, sorry, although that might be a good thing and he does refer to you as Kit now, rather than Bannen.’
‘That’s a giant leap forward.’
‘Yes. You wouldn’t expect him to talk about you. Cal doesn’t talk about his feelings any more than he can possibly help it. So, why are you here?’
‘Two reasons actually. One is that I need to get the final edits to my novel out of the way and Kilhallon is a peaceful place to do it. The second reason relates to the floods. One of the features editors I know was talking about the devastation the tidal surge caused and I mentioned I had links to the area and had been involved in a very small way.’
I smile. Cal told me that he’d found Kit some really shitty jobs to do when they were helping to clear people’s homes out before Christmas.
‘Anyway, I persuaded the editor to commission me to do a feature on how people are coping after the floods. Show the place getting back on its feet and highlight some of the ongoing problems. That sort of thing.’
‘There’s been a lot of rebuilding but some are still not back in their houses because of the insurers not paying out. I’m not sure some will ever go back. My dad and Rachel moved in a little while ago but they were lucky.’
‘Cal mentioned they’d stayed here and that the baby had arrived. Congratulations. It’s going well with your family, is it? There didn’t seem much chance of a reconciliation at the Harbour Lights Festival.’
‘There wasn’t, but things have changed. I’ve met up with my brother, Kyle, while he was on leave from the army. Dad and I are slowly getting to know one another again and Rachel and I get on much better than I ever thought we could, and Freya is so gorgeous. She smiles at me now and I even change her nappies.’
‘That’s beyond the call of duty.’ He smiles. ‘I’m glad things are going well for you. Genuinely. I don’t expect Cal to welcome me with open arms but if he sees I’m here to try and do some good, he might be slightly more welcoming.’
‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ I say, feeling he still deserves tormenting after what he put us through last year. ‘Look, he’s coming over the yard.’
Kit mouths ‘shit’, but then stands up a little straighter in readiness for his encounter with Cal. ‘I’ll brace myself.’
A couple of months ago, Cal had Kit up against a wall. His bitterness towards Cal’s father – their father – spilled out into some serious rage and vindictiveness. I’m pretty sure Cal’s still very wary, even though they buried the hatchet when Kit returned to help out in the floods. My stomach flutters because even I’m a little nervous of the reaction. I wish Kit had warned us he was coming but it’s too late. I believe his story that he was as wary of coming back as Cal may be of seeing him here.
Cal strides towards us. He’s in a T-shirt because the spring sun has some strength in it today and he’s obviously been working on something. He pushes open the door and hesitates momentarily.
Kit flashes him a brief smile. ‘Hello, Cal.’
Cal looks him up and down. The hairs on the back of my neck prick
le. Should I take cover behind the counter or stay and act as referee if needed.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asks.
‘Hoping to stay for a few weeks.’
Cal frowns. ‘At Kilhallon?’
‘Yes, if you’ll have me. I’m not here to cause trouble, I promise. I’m hoping to do some good.’
Cal folds his arms, his expression stern. ‘You do some good?’
‘It may be hard to believe but on this occasion, yes. I’ve persuaded an editor of one of the broadsheets to run a feature on how the village is managing after the tidal surge.’
‘Managing?’ Cal snorts. ‘Considering what some people have been through, and the lack of real help from outside the area, they’ve done a bloody amazing job. There’s still a lot more to do though. Some people feel they’ve been abandoned by the powers that be and don’t get me started on the insurance companies.’
‘That’s exactly why I’m here. Demi already highlighted some of the problems,’ Kit replies calmly.
‘She’s right. The flood left many with massive problems that still haven’t been tackled but we don’t want to be portrayed as an abandoned dump. The most important thing is showing the public that the town is open for business while letting people know we still need help.’
Kit nods in agreement. ‘I can see the dilemma but I hope you’ll trust me to reflect things as they really are.’
Cal hesitates before a small smile touches his lips briefly. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
‘We’ve a cottage vacant for a couple of weeks,’ I say, neglecting to mention that Kit has already secretly booked in. I’m relieved that Cal’s angrier about the floods than with Kit turning up. Clever Kit: he must have known that Cal would never pass up the chance to have a rant and help the villagers at the same time.
‘That’s lucky,’ says Cal, and I don’t think he’s being sarcastic.
Confetti at the Cornish Café Page 14