Christmas on the Little Cornish Isles

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘Do you really have a barbecue on the beach on Christmas Day?’

  ‘No, because I was always working. We used to have our proper dinner a few days later after we’d raked in the cash from the partygoers and all the cricket fans at the Boxing Day test at the MCG, of course. Made most of our money over the festive season.’ He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Much as I’d love to crawl round Gull eating myself stupid, I’d far rather be at your table, as long as your parents really don’t mind.’

  ‘Mum would never have asked if she did.’

  ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to farm me off on the other good souls who’ve offered to take a hungry stranger in?’ He gave her a puppy-dog look.

  She suppressed a giggle. ‘Stop it, McKinnon. You’re getting a proper Samson family Christmas and I’ll make sure you get more than your fair share of sprouts for your cheek.’

  ‘I suppose I’ve no choice. Let me know if I can help out.’

  ‘No. This is one dinner that Mum – and Dad – like to be in charge of. Don’t deprive them of that.’

  ‘I won’t. I’ll behave impeccably.’

  He drew his finger lightly over her cheek. Maisie’s skin tingled and her body thrummed with desire. She glanced around her. ‘Be careful.’

  ‘I always am careful.’

  ‘I don’t want anyone knowing. I want this to be between us: our private secret. No one else’s.’

  ‘Apart from Jess and Will?’ Patrick said, with a smile.

  ‘Apart from them.’

  Patrick stopped any more words with a hot, lingering kiss that made Maisie feel as if she’d lifted into the air. Her whole body felt alive. How would she ever get through a Christmas dinner with him sitting next to her? Knowing what they’d done together and pretending to be friends and colleagues? She wanted him to share her Christmas so much and was quietly ecstatic when her mother had unexpectedly suggested it without Maisie having to hint. But would Patrick being part of their intimate family occasion be too much for them both to cope with, without her parents realising they were – well, something more than boss and barman? An item? A couple?

  Maisie shivered as Patrick rested his big hands on her waist and deepened the kiss. She couldn’t name what she and Patrick ‘were’ or think of it ending when he returned to the other side of the world. She pushed that fact to the back of the dark locked cupboard where she kept her other painful and uncomfortable truths.

  Chapter 26

  1 December

  Once the decision had been made, no time was wasted, and a few days later, the first day of December, Hell Cove Cottages was a hive of activity, or as much of a hive as anywhere on Gull could be at dawn on a grey morning. The first of the working party had arrived at dawn. With the sun setting by late afternoon, they needed to get as much done as possible. Hazel and Ray were visiting friends on St Mary’s, and had offered to get the bar ready for evening opening while Maisie helped at Hell Cove.

  Both the Barton sisters were in their overalls ready to muck in. Jess was already there, along with Archie and Fen, Javid and his girlfriend, Katya, plus Pete and Davina Jenkins from the Fudge Pantry. Pete had been a builder before he’d had a change of lifestyle and had planned out a schedule of works, the first of which was to make sure the roofs of Hell Cove House and the cottages were in a good state of repair. This was easier said than done as the materials had to be found locally or shipped from the Main Island or even further afield.

  Items had been scrounged or bought for a low price in return for ‘favours’, such as agreements to muck in with work on other island projects. Joly had apparently offered to bake a wedding cake in return for a job lot of paint, while Javid had swapped a couple of weeks in one of his caravans for some plumbing supplies. Maisie also suspected that several people had dug into precious savings to fund the project, which made her feel very guilty. She wondered how long people’s energy, enthusiasm and generosity would last, but she set aside her worries for now and threw herself into the work.

  Jess hurried over to Maisie, her cheeks tinged pink by the cool morning air. ‘Bev says she’ll be along later and some of the students from St Piran’s are back home for the holidays so they offered to come too.’ Maisie looked around for Patrick but didn’t see him. He hadn’t been in the Piggery either so she’d no idea where he was.

  ‘I’m amazed to see so many people here.’

  ‘Apparently Adam’s going to drop in after his rounds,’ she said, and wrinkled her nose. ‘Probably wants to avoid me but he needn’t worry, I’ll be back on the farm by then.’

  ‘He hasn’t left yet, then?’

  ‘Not until after Christmas. Then he’s definitely going to work in the Lake District, according to Will.’

  ‘The Lakes?’ Maisie blew out a breath. ‘Still, that’s better than New Zealand I suppose.’

  ‘It might as well be, for all he wants to do with me. It’s over with Adam, not that it ever really started,’ said Jess gloomily. Maisie had never heard her sound so down and in fact she seemed close to tears, which just wasn’t like her bubbly friend.

  Maisie vowed to have another heart to heart with Jess as soon as she could get her in private. ‘I am so sorry, my lovely. Have you no idea why?’

  Jess heaved a big sigh then forced a smile. ‘Not really. I did try to talk to Adam when he popped in here to help out a few days ago. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help … if there was anything worrying him, but he just muttered about “family business” and said he was truly sorry for hurting me …’

  Jess looked close to tears. ‘I asked him to tell me why he’d broken up but he said to forget him.’

  ‘You must be in bits, my lovely.’ Maisie wanted to cry too.

  ‘Nothing to be done. Plenty of fish etc. and what with the Flower Farm and helping out here, I’ve more than enough to distract me. Will says he’d be able to spare a couple of hours tomorrow too.’

  ‘You’re both amazing. What you’ve done for us and for everyone on Gull is fantastic.’

  It was inevitable that people would dip in and out of the site as and when they could. Privately Maisie thought they’d be lucky to get Hell Cove House and Cottages into a reasonable condition by spring, let along starting on the Fudge Pantry. It could be years before everyone had been helped, but she couldn’t think of any other way to preserve the way of life of those who wanted to stay.

  ‘Have you seen Patrick?’ she asked Jess.

  ‘He’s down at the quay waiting for a delivery of materials.’

  ‘More?’

  ‘A boat load, apparently.’

  A short time later, Patrick and Javid trundled down the hill with an old pick-up dangerously overloaded with building materials.

  They backed up the stony track next to the cottages and everyone rushed over to help unload the bounty. Maisie was hot and sweaty by the time she’d helped remove the slates, timber and several tubs of render from the back of the truck.

  She rubbed her sleeve over her brow. ‘Wow. Where did these come from?’ she asked.

  Patrick tapped his nose. ‘That’d be telling.’

  ‘This stuff is worth a lot of money, not to mention the expense of shipping it over.’

  ‘The slates were recycled from an old hut on St Piran’s. Archie tipped me off and it turned out the hut belonged to the prop forward from the Scilly Corsairs. He said we could have them free if we could get them brought over so I negotiated a good rate with the Gull supply boat and Una and Phyllis agreed.’

  ‘Well done. That’s brilliant; those would have cost a fortune if they’d had to buy them from new. What about the timbers?’

  ‘Ah. They were washed up on the skerries on the far side of Petroc. One of the fisherman from the Pirates retrieved them and heard of our need. I scrounged the render from an anonymous benefactor.’

  ‘You really do have the gift of the gab.’

  Patrick gave a little bow. ‘I aim to please.’

  He sure did, thought Maisie, wishing
they were alone right now. Such thoughts had to go on hold because Phyllis walked out of the back door holding a tray laden with steaming mugs, followed by Una with a cake tin.

  ‘Here you go. Hot cocoa, Christmas cake and mince pies,’ Una called.

  Soon a small crowd had gathered around the rusting garden table and the working party were helping themselves to the drinks, sugar-dusted pies and slices of dark fruit cake topped with marzipan and snowy icing. The sisters watched in satisfaction as their building crew tucked in with sighs of approval.

  ‘Delicious,’ Jess mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

  ‘Best I’ve ever had,’ said Patrick, reaching for a second mince pie.

  Phyllis glowed with pride and lowered her voice. ‘I made the mince pies. Una’s so heavy handed with pastry, her pies are always dry, but don’t let her know.’

  Maisie slid a glance at Una who was chatting to Javid. Cocoa break over, the air was filled with the sound of hammering and banging as everyone set to work again. However, Una waylaid Maisie as she pushed a wheelbarrow of slates over to the cottages.

  ‘I’m afraid that Hugo knows about our little plan,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ Maisie blew out a breath. Hugo might have stopped trying to get her alone but he obviously hadn’t given up on his plans, not that she ever expected him to. ‘We weren’t going to keep it a secret for long, I guess,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know how he found out, but he said something sarcastic about our “construction plans” to Phyllis in the Co-op on St Mary’s.’

  ‘Hugo was in the Co-op?’ Maisie asked, knowing Hugo’s team usually took care of his grocery deliveries.

  ‘Oh yes. Basil was tied up outside. Hugo was buying a packet of fags.’

  ‘I didn’t know he smoked,’ said Maisie.

  Una pursed her lips. ‘Oh, he does. He was almost expelled from that posh boarding school on the mainland for smoking weed too. He doesn’t think anyone knows, but we do. His father told us before poor old Graydon lost it, bless him. If he knew what Hugo is trying to do to Gull, he’d be terribly upset.’

  It’s hardly a crime to have a sneaky fag, thought Maisie, thinking of her own former habit, and so what if Hugo had been a bit wayward at his boarding school? She was actually glad he’d got some skeletons in the cupboard, even if they were very minor ones. Maisie wasn’t so sure about Graydon Scorrier either. He’d been a hard-nosed businessman before the poor man succumbed to dementia. Maisie did feel terribly sorry for Hugo and Graydon but her pity for Hugo wouldn’t help the islanders. Though she’d often thought he must have been under a lot of pressure since he took over the business.

  ‘What did he say to you?’ said Maisie.

  Phyllis joined them. ‘Hugo offered to give us a lift back to Gull with our shopping.’

  ‘That was … kind of him.’

  ‘We didn’t say no because it looked like the weather was closing in, but we wished he hadn’t offered in one way, don’t we, Una?’

  Una snorted. ‘Gobby little git.’

  ‘Una!’

  ‘I don’t care. He’s an arrogant bugger even if he has made us a good offer for the cottages. He said he’d found out we were trying to “keep the place afloat, but did we realise it was like trying to hold back the tide”.’

  ‘And he was concerned for our health, “It can’t be good for you at your age, trying to do all the heavy work,” he said.’ Phyllis narrowed her eyes.

  ‘He might as well have said, “Resistance is futile”. Well, he can shove his offer and with this help we’ll be able to manage for years. I want to end my days here if I can,’ said Una.

  ‘Not yet, I hope!’ Maisie was horrified.

  ‘Nor me. Ignore Una. She loves winding people up as much as Hugo does.’

  Any sympathy Maisie had for Hugo evaporated. ‘The cheeky sod.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Una. ‘I tell you what. I’d like to see that delicate flower up on a roof mending slates, or building a wall. I bet Hugo couldn’t punch his way out of a wet paper bag.’

  Maisie had dissolved into laughter even while she was mad at Hugo for pressurising the Bartons. They looked over to the men and women getting stuck in to the renovations. The plan had started well and while their efforts might not save everyone from Hugo’s takeover plans, at least the Bartons would be able to stay on longer and run their business for a while yet.

  ‘I wonder who told Hugo,’ Una said, hands on hips, casting an eye over the work party.

  ‘He probably heard on the grapevine,’ said Maisie.

  ‘Hmm …’ Una fixed her eyes on the figure of Patrick, pushing a barrow of slates a few yards away. ‘He’s the only outsider.’

  Maisie fired up with indignation. ‘No chance. That would make him less likely to tell Hugo, and anyway, Patrick doesn’t like Hugo any more than the rest of us.’

  Una turned to her and raised an eyebrow. ‘You seem very confident of that, my dear, on so short an acquaintance. If you don’t mind me saying.’

  ‘I don’t, and even though I haven’t known him long, he’d never shop us to Hugo. It could have been anyone on the islands, Gull or otherwise; you can’t make a fuss like this without someone – everyone – finding out. It was only a matter of time.’

  ‘I don’t know. We all have our skeletons. Whether they’re our neighbours or from the other side of the world.’ Una fixed Maisie with a meaningful look. ‘I must get on with the roof. Those slates won’t fasten themselves, now will they?’

  Maisie gasped. ‘You are joking?’

  Una sighed. ‘Sadly, my knees won’t let me these days but I’d have loved to. I’m off to help Phyllis paint some woodwork inside the house.’

  Maisie turned to Patrick who was standing over a wheelbarrow of cement bags, talking on his phone. Who to, she had no idea, but it was none of her business.

  At first glance, any ‘foreigner’ would never have known that Patrick was an outsider. Apart from his deeper tan he could pass for one of the islanders; although in her biased eyes, no man that lush had ever sprung from Scilly stock. Jess might have to disagree with her there as regards hunky Adam, and she supposed Will Godrevy and Jake Pendower weren’t too shabby, although she looked on them more as mates or surrogate brothers.

  So while he might appear to be part of the landscape in Maisie’s eyes, to anyone who knew Scilly well, Patrick stuck out like a sore thumb.

  To Una too, by the sound of things.

  But he wouldn’t have betrayed them to Hugo, would he? Maisie gave a little snort of derision. It was the daftest thing she’d heard all day.

  Chapter 27

  Maisie knew it was all going too well. Four days into December, the roof repairs on the Hell Cove Cottages had just been completed when a storm blew in and battered the entire archipelago. A mass of seaweed was hurled from the shorelines across the isles and covered the beach at Hell Cove like a brown blanket. When she wandered down to the beach to see if it was safe for a quick dip, she found weed littering the sands in front of the Driftwood.

  After the storm had faded away, it was followed by two days of sea fog when she couldn’t see more than a few yards ahead of her. There was nothing to be done but hunker down in the pub with her parents and Patrick, doing her admin and indoor jobs. The only upside came when Ray and Hazel decided to visit Phyllis and Una, giving Maisie and Patrick the guarantee of a snatched hour together in the Piggery.

  The fog lingered well into Thursday and was still about as far from barbecue weather as you could get. Maisie stared out at the window, willing it to lift, but it refused to budge, almost as if it knew how much she wanted Patrick’s Aussie Christmas event that weekend to be a success and had decided to spoil the party. If no one could even reach the island, she would have to think about postponing it or even calling it off. Maisie found it difficult to believe that under that cloak of mist was a stunning landscape of jewel-bright colours. The only bright spot at the moment was Patrick’s ‘slide show’ scheduled for that evening at
the community hall. Whether anyone would go to it apart from Maisie, her parents and the vicar was another matter.

  Patrick set off early to meet Rev Bev and set up the laptop and projector, while Hazel went with him to help with the refreshments. Ray was feeling tired so he’d gone for a lie-down. He offered to walk with Maisie but she firmly told him to get some rest, joking that she could find her way to any spot on Gull, blindfolded. Even though she knew the route to the community hall like the back of her hand, she still took a torch. It was a filthy night, pitch dark and damp, with clinging mist that soaked everything, so she was muffled in a scarf, her hood zipped up tightly.

  She passed the campsite and spotted the lights in the windows of Javid and Katya’s house. They’d said they’d probably go to the talk and Maisie was happy when she saw Javid waiting for her by the stone gate to the campsite. He lifted a hand in recognition and she quickened her step, using the torch beam to guide her.

  ‘Hiya,’ she called. ‘Horrible night for it, isn’t it?’

  But it was Hugo, not Javid, who stepped onto the road and lifted his torch. The beam blinded her momentarily and she blinked hard.

  ‘Jesus, Hugo!’

  He was a couple of feet away, his face white inside the hood of his coat. ‘I’m sorry. Did I startle you?’

  ‘Yes. I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to come.’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss it. Actually I was just looking for Basil. He ran off towards the campsite. Bas-il!’ Hugo called into the darkness.

  Maisie stood silently as Hugo peered into the gloom, but there was no answering bark.

  ‘Basil! You stupid animal!’ Hugo tried to sound authoritative but there was an edge of anxiety to his tone. He turned to Maisie. ‘That dog has always gone his own way, no matter what I do with him.’

  Maisie would have smiled, but she too was concerned about Basil. The fog was thick and there was no way anyone would venture off the path to search for him.‘Shit.’ Hugo muttered under his breath, but then there was a rustling from the bushes on the opposite side of the campsite entrance. Two eyes glowed in the darkness and a furry black shape emerged.