Summer at Conwenna Cove

by Darcie Boleyn

  Eve panted at his side.

  ‘You’re not very fit, are you?’ Jack asked.

  ‘I’m not used to speed-walking, no.’

  ‘Isn’t that the one where their bums wiggle madly as they walk?’ Jack asked, then did an impression, swinging his hips wildly from side to side so that Harry stared at him curiously.

  Eve laughed. ‘Yes, that’s the one.’

  ‘I couldn’t keep that up. My leg wouldn’t stand for it,’ Jack said, then bit his lip. He didn’t want to have to explain all that right now. Eve would probably only stay for a few days and he had no intention of sharing his private history with her. Opening up to a woman was dangerous.

  But Eve didn’t ask. She was gazing at the scenery, her face open and vulnerable.

  ‘The bluebells are beautiful, aren’t they?’ he asked, his voice coming out gruffer than he’d intended. He cleared his throat.

  ‘It’s gorgeous here and it’s always been the same. When I drove through here earlier, I remembered all the summers I spent here as a child and the times I used to walk along this road just to enjoy the bluebells. They’re so delicate and pretty.’

  ‘Like a carpet of blue, right?’

  ‘That’s what I thought earlier.’

  He smiled. She didn’t seem like a hard-hearted cow, but perhaps she was good at hiding her coldness.

  They walked the rest of the way to the main road in silence, listening to the birdsong and the crunching of their feet upon the gravel. Jack wondered if Eve was thinking about the last time she was here and if she had any regrets about not coming back sooner. But he didn’t know her well enough to ask and there was no point getting to know her anyway. She’d soon leave, and if she was in fact a self-obsessed career woman, he was better off not wasting his time learning more about her.

  When they walked out onto the main road, Eve froze. She stared straight ahead, her attention fixed on the horizon. Between the trees, framed by the leaves and branches, was a perfect view of the horizon. The sky was amber now, with red-gold streaks, and the water glowed as if lit from below. Jack looked from the view to Eve and he had to drag his eyes away from her face in case she caught him staring at her; the serenity he saw there made something inside him shift, and it scared him.

  ‘It’s so beautiful.’

  ‘I love it. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else now.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘About six months.’

  ‘Don’t you have family?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Me neither. Well, except for my parents, but they live out on Lake Garda and I rarely see them.’

  ‘Like Mary,’ he huffed.

  Eve stopped suddenly. He expected her to snap at him, almost wanted her to. An argument with her would give him the opportunity to raise the issues he had with her for neglecting Mary. But instead her eyes glistened as she met his gaze. ‘I’ve been remiss in my treatment of my aunt. I know that. I should have contacted her more often. It’s just … things have been difficult. Life has been difficult.’ Her voice cracked on the final word and Jack reached out instinctively and touched her arm.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know. Mary never told me much about you. All I do know is that you have a very kind aunt there who clearly loves you very much.’

  Eve stared at her shoes and Jack watched, that thing inside him shifting again, as a tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and sniffed.

  ‘I really am sorry, Eve. I tend to be a bit … harsh sometimes. I know that. My counsellor told me it’s a defence mechanism.’

  She met his gaze again, and as he stared into the watery emerald depths of her eyes, his heart gave a flip and he found himself wanting to pull her into his arms. He shuffled his feet, confused by his reaction to this woman he barely knew. It had been quite some time since Jack had been attracted to someone. But Eve Carpenter was pretty, prettier than he’d realized when he’d first seen her, and when she was sad like this – even though he was conscious that it was totally against his better judgement – he had a strange urge to offer her comfort and try to ease her pain.

  ‘Counsellor?’ she asked as she pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, then wiped her nose.

  ‘Long story. Perhaps I’ll tell you about it some time.’ But probably not.

  ‘Okay.’ She attempted a smile.

  ‘How about I take you into the village and buy you an ice cream from Scoops and Sprinkles?’

  ‘What about dinner?’

  ‘I won’t tell Mary if you don’t.’ He winked, then proffered his arm.

  Eve slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and a warm tingling spread through his belly.

  ‘Ice cream it is, then.’

  As they walked down to the town’s main street, along narrow cobbled streets lined with colourful cottages adorned with hanging baskets and window boxes, Jack couldn’t help wondering at his erratic behaviour around Eve. He’d been reluctant to get to know her at all, and had decided when she arrived that he’d keep his distance, but he already sensed that there was something in her that mirrored his own vulnerability. The vulnerability that a real man like him didn’t admit to easily, although in counselling he’d had to acknowledge it in order to start healing.

  He didn’t know exactly what had hurt Eve, but something had, and it made him want to offer her a shoulder to lean on. Dangerous ground, especially as he doubted that she was going to hang around, but while she was here, he could at least get to know her a bit better. He knew it was a huge turnaround from his earlier thoughts, but he couldn’t help himself.

  And after all, he reassured himself, there was nothing wrong in being friends with his landlady’s niece, was there?

  * * *

  Inside the ice cream parlour, Eve took the large waffle cone from Jack and laughed. ‘How on earth am I going to eat all this?’

  ‘You’ll manage. You have to; it’s a Conwenna tradition.’

  Jack thanked Alice, the owner’s daughter, who smiled shyly at him from behind the counter, then followed Eve out of the shop. Scoops and Sprinkles was on the main street of the village that led down to the harbour. It had a pink and white front with colourful cartoon images of frozen delights painted on the window. Behind the glass, some of the most popular flavours were on display. When Jack had asked Eve what she wanted, she’d been spoilt for choice. She’d stuck to chocolate and vanilla, but she hoped that next time she’d be brave enough to choose something more daring.

  Next time?

  She hoped there would be a next time with Jack, because since she’d broken down in the lane, he’d altered towards her. It was as if he’d had a preconception of who she was and how she’d behave towards him, and since he’d seen her sadness, he’d softened.

  She liked the softer, kinder version of Jack. She just hoped he’d stick around.

  He led her towards the harbour, then gestured at a bench. They sat down and he took Clio’s lead from Eve, then looped it over his broad forearm with Harry’s. The dogs stared out at the water, their long tails wagging as they watched the seagulls diving into the water and swooping to pick at scraps that had fallen from bins or blown away from tourists’ picnics.

  ‘So what’s it like living and working in a busy city?’ he asked Eve, between licks of rum and raisin.

  Eve swallowed her mouthful of chocolate ice cream before trying to reply. ‘It’s busy.’

  ‘Very different to here?’

  ‘Have you ever lived in a city?’

  Jack nodded. ‘When I was younger, with my mother.’

  ‘You said you didn’t have any family.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her heart pounded. She’d said the wrong thing and worried he’d turn cold again.

  Jack popped the last of his cone into his mouth and Eve waited for him to swallow, hoping that she hadn’t offended him. ‘My mother was the only family I ever had. I never knew my
father; he was a married police officer and a lot older than my mother. When she got pregnant with me, he didn’t want to know as he already had a grown-up family. So she moved away and kept on moving. She never fell in love again; she just wouldn’t allow herself to care about anyone.’ He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘She died when I was eighteen. I never tried to find my father. I don’t know if it’s strange, but I never had a desire to. He didn’t want me from the start so why would he want to know me now?’

  ‘Oh Jack, I’m sorry.’

  He shook his head. ‘Don’t be. It was a long time ago. Eighteen years, to be precise.’

  ‘So you’re thirty-six?’

  ‘I know …’ He placed a finger on his chin and tilted his head. ‘I don’t look a day over twenty-five.’

  ‘Well … I’d have said forty but …’ Eve gasped as Jack squeezed her waist and tickled her. ‘Hey! Cut that out!’

  He pulled away suddenly. ‘Sorry.’ His cheeks flushed. ‘That was too much, right?’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Heat rose in her own cheeks. She hadn’t been tickled in what felt like a lifetime, and just then, Jack’s instinctive reaction had made her feel … almost carefree. ‘I’m just really ticklish.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Giving me future ammunition.’

  ‘No! No tickling, it’s a weakness of mine.’ She shook her head then looked at the cone in her hand. ‘I’m never going to get through this.’

  Jack leaned forward and took a bite. Then another. The cone was half the size.

  ‘Uh … thanks.’

  Eve nibbled at what remained, then decided to surrender. ‘Do you want the rest?’

  ‘Sure.’ He polished off her ice cream then threw the serviette in a bin next to the bench.

  ‘So what happened to your mother? I mean, if you want to tell me. You don’t have to. I know you know that and I’m not being nosy …’ Eve watched Jack carefully, uncertain if he’d want to talk about it.

  ‘Breast cancer.’

  ‘That’s awful.’

  ‘It was. But she wasn’t ill for long. It was one of those cases where she was diagnosed and gone within weeks. She was small … like you. There wasn’t much of her to fight it. In a way, I’m glad.’

  ‘What’d you mean?’

  ‘Well if she’d been bigger and stronger, the battle might have taken longer and she’d have suffered more. As it was, I was young. A bit selfish, I guess. Her being so ill didn’t seem real because I still believed in my own immortality. Within a few weeks of her dying, I signed up.’

  ‘You were a marine, right? Aunt Mary told me.’

  ‘Commando.’

  ‘So you would have been embroiled in Afghanistan?’ Eve probed gently.

  Jack nodded. ‘Shall we walk these two? Burn off some of the ice cream?’

  ‘Of course.’

  They took the path along the harbour, and Eve noticed a few businesses that hadn’t been there when she was younger, including a sweetshop called Sugar and Spice, a fifties diner called Zoe’s, and an art gallery, A Pretty Picture, where Jack paused in front of the window. Eve gently rubbed Clio’s long neck as she gazed at the paintings on display. There were a few portraits of fishermen and of the harbour and some of local scenery.

  ‘Shall we take a look inside?’ Jack asked.

  ‘What about the dogs?’

  ‘Most shops around here are dog friendly. It doesn’t pay to be hostile towards man’s best friend when you rely on tourist income, as a lot of holidaymakers bring their pets along.’

  Jack opened the shop door and Eve followed him inside. It was cool and dark and smelt of furniture polish and mints. Jack nodded at a man behind the counter then beckoned Eve to his side.

  They stood before a range of landscapes and Jack pointed out familiar landmarks. One featured Conwenna Cove from the perspective of a fisherman looking up at the village from his boat, and Eve could see the chimneys and upper part of the roof of Mary’s cottages. ‘I really like that one.’

  ‘It’s clever, isn’t it?’ Jack replied. ‘If you look carefully, you can see the shadow of the boat in the water and the dappled effect caused by the cloud cover.’

  Eve peered closer, suddenly aware of her ignorance about art.

  ‘How do you know so much about it?’ she asked.

  Jack shrugged. ‘I dabble.’

  He walked across the shop, so Eve followed him. ‘What’d you mean, you dabble?’

  He shook his head and she saw a muscle in his jaw twitching. She wasn’t sure if it was mirth or agitation causing it, so when he spoke again, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

  ‘This one here is by a local artist.’

  Eve gazed at the portrait of a muscular greyhound standing in a field. Its fur was so shiny it appeared silver. The creature had bright amber eyes that emanated intelligence and sensitivity.

  ‘It’s so beautiful. Greyhounds are such elegant creatures.’

  Jack grinned and his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. ‘And this one?’

  This time, two greyhounds stood outside a stable. One was completely black except for a white patch on his chest; the other one was black and white and its markings reminded Eve of those on a cow. The dogs’ mouths were open and they looked as if they were grinning. To the left of the stable, just behind a wooden fence, was a parked car with two people inside.

  ‘Adoption day.’ Jack pointed at the car. ‘Two lucky dogs about to be taken to their forever home. Or furever home, as it’s fondly known.’

  ‘Do you know the artist?’ Eve asked.

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘I’ve never been able to draw or paint. It’s definitely a gift.’

  ‘We all have our talents. I bet there are lots of things you’re good at?’ Jack tilted his head.

  Eve chewed her lip. ‘I can’t draw. I can’t cook. I can’t sew or knit. I was quite good at maths and science when I was younger and I was very good at English. I was also a good teacher.’

  ‘Do you still teach?’

  ‘I’m a head teacher now.’ Now? Am I still?

  ‘I know, Mary told me. But some heads still spend time in the classroom, don’t they?’

  ‘They do. I didn’t, though. I mean, I don’t. I’m too busy running the place.’

  ‘Do you think it’s better to be removed from the classroom then? Once you’re in leadership?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s a perfect way of doing it. I did enjoy teaching but being a manager took over, I guess.’

  ‘Will you go back to it?’

  Eve’s heart started to pound and she gripped Clio’s lead tighter. She’d only just arrived in Conwenna that afternoon but already she felt as if she’d been away from Bristol for days. Would she return to her job, to the long hours, the insomnia and the loneliness of an empty house? ‘I …’

  A dart of pain pierced her skull and she slapped her hand against it.

  ‘Eve?’ Jack grabbed her arm. ‘Eve, what’s wrong?’

  The pressure. The exhaustion.

  ‘Outside,’ she croaked.

  ‘Of course!’

  She let him lead her back into the fresh air, then held onto him as another pain followed the path of the first one.

  ‘Let’s sit you down.’ Jack lowered her onto a bench and she gripped his hand as her heart thundered behind her ribs and she felt as if it would burst from her chest. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and she trembled violently as she struggled to catch her breath. She was vaguely aware of Jack telling her to calm down, that it would be all right, that this would pass.

  When she finally managed to breathe slowly and open her eyes, she found that she was resting her head upon Jack’s shoulder as he gently smoothed her hair. She knew she should move but she was afraid that the pounding in her chest would return, so she stayed still, frozen in time, with her face against Jack’s T-shirt, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat until she felt reassured that he
r own had fully returned to normal.

  ‘Eve? Do you need to see a doctor?’

  She slowly lifted her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s just tension. An … anxiety attack.’

  ‘Is this why you left Bristol?’

  ‘Yes.’ She met his concerned gaze. ‘Stress and … and migraines. Nothing more serious. Apparently.’

  ‘Stress can take a dreadful toll upon the body and mind.’ He nodded.

  ‘So I’ve learned recently.’

  ‘So it’s better for you to avoid talking about work then?’

  ‘For a bit, it would seem.’ She tried to smile but her palms were clammy and she felt cold to her bones. The aftermath of these attacks was as strange as when they began. They took hold of her quickly but left slowly, almost like treacle seeping out of a jar. And even when her heartbeat had returned to normal, she still felt the remains of the panic hovering around, clinging to her like an old hangover, ready to spiral if she didn’t do her best to keep it at bay.

  ‘Well if that’s the case, we’ll talk about everything except for that thing you usually do when you’re, you know, somewhere else other than here.’ He smiled. He was very handsome when he smiled, and so gentle for such a large man. If he’d carried on stroking her hair, she suspected she could have fallen asleep in his arms. Eve couldn’t recall the last time someone had relaxed her so quickly or so tenderly. She’d only just met Jack Adams but she already felt safe with him. Was that wrong? Was it her anxious state that was making her feel this way?

  But as she sat back on the bench and watched Jack rubbing Harry’s soft ears, the dog gazing at him with complete trust and adoration, Eve became convinced that Jack was a good man. The type of man she might have been able to build a life with, had her circumstances been different. As it was, she wasn’t actively searching for a relationship; her life was such a mess, and it wouldn’t be fair to bring anyone else into it right now.