The Cornish Village School--Summer Love

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The Cornish Village School--Summer Love Page 25

by Summer Love (retail) (epub)


  This was ridiculous.

  Eventually she regained control of herself, slowing her breathing down, tying it to the rhythm of the waves. She tried to use some of the mindfulness techniques that she and Lottie had practised. She spent a minute or two dragging her mind back from the contents of the letter to the way her body was feeling, focusing upon the sand under her fingers, until she was calm enough to consider what the letter in front of her was saying. She felt the breath playing across her lips as she picked up the piece of paper and read it again, just to double check that she wasn’t imagining this.

  Wow.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Wow.

  This was still the word on her lips as she fell asleep that night, and awoke again the next morning.

  Wow.

  She had seriously screwed up.

  She didn’t dare count the weeks that Kam had been waiting for an answer from her, waiting for her to say ‘Yes please’, screw her clothes into a ball and do all sorts of things that were very definitely not suitable for a school setting.

  Which, thanks to Sheila, she hadn’t done, hadn’t known he was waiting, had just thought he was being an arsehole when he was clearly hurting like mad and assuming her silence was a cold-hearted rejection of all that he was offering. What must he think of her?

  No one had ever written her a love letter before, although her brief spate of internet dating had indicated that many men thought dick pics were an acceptable declaration of interest.

  Not only was this a love letter, but it was written by a man she had been prepared to take a gamble on, a man for whom she’d been prepared to overcome her fear that no one would ever give her what her parents had, a man she knew she would choose to spend her life with if a genie ever came down and granted her three wishes. The first two of course would go on things of global importance, like world peace etc., and maybe an endless wardrobe. But the third, the third she would have definitely used to get herself Kam. And now, now… ooooohh, she could scream with frustration.

  The obvious thing to do was to get out of bed, stop beating herself up and peg it over to Treporth Bay, or better still to Ben’s surf hostel in Newquay where he’d actually be, and screech ‘Yes, yes, yes’ at him. Although maybe an explanation first of why she was shouting that would be better. An explanation and an apology.

  If Sheila hadn’t been so damn lovely Pippa might have felt like killing her right now, stretching her innards across Penmenna, like the bunting already up and on display, and winding a bit around the knitted squids on the lampposts. Mind you, Pippa didn’t think she’d actually enjoy the practicalities of that and anyway, everyone had stopped getting cross with Sheila years ago. She was reliably unreliable but meant well, it was just fact. Getting angry with her was tantamount to cruelty and would achieve nothing other than a prolonged bout of self-loathing.

  Which it appeared she was engaging in anyway.

  Her phone sat on the bedside table beeped and she grabbed it, praying with all her heart that it was Kam telling her he simply couldn’t live without her.

  Help me! Mum is driving me crazy.

  Her heart sank as she realised it wasn’t Kam. Of course it wasn’t. They had stopped texting after she had not got the letter he had written. It was Polly who had been away for the weekend and clearly only just landed back at home.

  Well, of course. That’s her job. Did you have a good time at the festival? Back to walking and talking yet?

  Noooooooooo! And you’re meant to be here helping with the pasty and you’re not so she’s trying to get me out of bed and I feel like I haven’t slept for four days and my eyes are literally going to bleed out of my face if I don’t get some rest soon. Rescue me. Please. Best Sister ever.

  Pippa jumped out of bed. There was no time to get sucked into maudlin self-pity for cocking up what could have been one of the best relationships in the history of forever. No time for running over to Newquay, because today was pasty competition day and the most important afternoon of her mum’s year. Every summer Jan was determined – desperate – to win, and like every year it was far more likely that Julie would carry the trophy home again. Her pasties were quite simply unbeatable. She had even won at the World Pasty Championship when it was held at the Eden Project, and if she could beat entrants from five continents it was highly probable she would beat Jan for the umpteenth year.

  Several hours, an awful lot of flour, butter, beef skirt, and shooing Tatters away with a tea-towel led to Pippa and Jan standing in the church hall behind a table as the Feast committee were about to begin wandering from table to table tasting each entry. It was so hot and sticky today, she was beginning to worry that the pasties themselves were about to slide off the table and slink sink-wards for a glug of water.

  In between waving at everyone already there and wondering how much longer this might take, she spotted Lottie racing through the door with a pasty in hand. Lottie? Baking? Whilst her flatmate could now stuff a stoat one handed (she had improved greatly in recent weeks), the thought of her turning her hand to baking was something that almost didn’t bear thinking about. Especially as Pippa knew for a fact that the hand wash in the kitchen had run out at some point last week and neither of them had got around to replacing it yet.

  ‘Am I too late to enter?’ Lottie gasped as she fell through the door, a wooden board in her hands with one of Pippa’s gingham tea-towels on top

  There was a fair bit of tutting from some of the panel and the odd contestant, but Lynne’s Dave wasn’t having any of that.

  ‘You come share my table, maid. It’s a l’il bit of fun. I’m sure no one will mind you turning up a fraction late.’

  ‘Thanks, Dave. How are Lynne and the baby?’

  ‘Yup, both are good. The baby had just fallen asleep as I was leaving so Lynne decided she’d have a quick nap as well. Hopefully she’ll pop by later and you can say a quick hello to baby Egbert.’

  ‘Dave!’ Pippa reprimanded as she left her mum and came to help Lottie arrange space on Dave’s table. ‘You know Lynne’s going to be really cross if you tell people that the baby is called Egbert!’

  Dave grinned quite unrepentantly. ‘And how do you know he’s not, huh?’

  ‘Cos I was around last week, and Dan nipped in to talk about the christening. At no point did either of them refer to Piran as anything else, and certainly not Egbert.’

  ‘Aye, but she may come around yet.’ Pippa couldn’t help but laugh at Dave’s conviction, as several members of the WI frowned at their rowdiness.

  As expected, Julie won hands down, and then the event became more relaxed with everyone wandering around having a taste of all the different pasties on offer. Pippa felt a bit mean, but she wasn’t going to risk Lottie’s. She sat with her instead, and with Lynne who had just arrived, drinking tea in little cups and saucers the like of which were spotted in every church hall across the land, as Lottie and Lynne pestered her to know what her plans were for the long summer holidays.

  ‘So, this summer I’m going to… oh for goodness sake, I can’t keep it quiet any more. Lynne, Lottie already knows about this, but I slept with Kam at half term, and I know I shouldn’t have’ – Lynne’s mouth dropped open but she had the grace to stay silent and let Pippa continue to speak – ‘but I did, then afterwards I thought he had lost interest and I’ve had a bit of a shit last half of term. But it was all just a misunderstanding and pretty much all Sheila’s fault and now everything is a mess and I don’t know how to fix it. I need to spend my summer making it right and you have to help me! Argggghhh.’

  ‘What do you mean a misunderstanding? How could there be a misunderstanding? You came home on cloud nine, then he froze you out. That’s fairly simple. Nothing to misunderstand at all,’ Lottie stated, in that tone of someone who had heard it too many times.

  Pippa told them all about the letter – her words falling over themselves – desperate to get the story out as quickly and as fairly as possible. Lynne and Lottie listened agog to
all that Pippa had to tell.

  ‘This is better than Eastenders,’ Lynne, who had miraculously stayed silent during the whole retelling, finally commented.

  ‘This is my life.’ Pippa wasn’t sure she wanted her life to be more dramatic than a soap opera.

  ‘That poor boy, all term sitting there, having declared his love and waiting for an answer, any answer at all.’ Lynne made a aw-bless-him face.

  ‘That’s not really helping.’

  ‘Well, the solution is simple. It’s not rocket science. You just have to tell him,’ Lottie advised.

  ‘I know that, but how?’

  ‘You don’t normally need any help to talk,’ Lynne chimed in as she hoiked her top up and put Piran onto her breast to feed.

  ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Hey, hey. Look, Pips, that letter sounds pretty lush. You can’t change what’s passed but you can shape the future. You just have to find the courage, and bearing in mind how you dress’ – Lottie quickly nodded at her friend’s outfit, which was a definite nod to America’s mid-west today and matched the tea-towel Lottie had pinched – ‘courage is not something you’re short off. But just because you found out last night doesn’t mean you need to rush over and declare undying love today. He gave that letter some thought and it’s a real shame that you didn’t get it when he intended but, you know what, a couple of days now shouldn’t make too much difference. Let’s put our heads together and we’ll come up with a plan, a grand gesture, something that makes it clear how important he is to you.’

  ‘Do you think?’

  ‘I do. We’ll come up with something, promise.’

  ‘I’m in,’ Lynne said before continuing, ‘she’s right, between us we’ll come up with something to rival the letter, or at the very least make it really clear how you feel.’

  ‘Oh, thank you. You’re the best friends a girl could have.’ The relief was written clear on Pippa’s face. She knew this should be an intimate thing, but her head was such a whirl since receiving the letter that she was struggling with rational thought. With her girlfriends to ground her, keep her focused and hopefully stop her making a complete twit of herself, she should be able to right this wrong in the best way possible.

  ‘We are,’ Lottie nodded, ‘and don’t forget you have the best family too. We’ll get everyone involved. This is going to be the most romantic Feast Week Penmenna has ever seen. Trust me!’

  Chapter Forty-six

  The most romantic Feast Week ever was shaping up nicely and Pippa hadn’t had a minute to spare, with all the plotting and then the Flora Dance on Wednesday. Now Thursday had arrived and it was carnival day: the day when the traffic in Penmenna was diverted and the schools, local businesses, scout and guides troops, in short anyone with any connection to the community, dressed up in themed costumes and paraded through the streets, finishing up in the school field where there would be judging for the best dressed.

  Pippa had lain awake all night trying to work out what she was going to say to Kam when she saw him today, despite Lottie and Lynne’s insistence that she say nothing. They argued that the carnival procession was a school related activity and both she and Kam would be there in a professional capacity so she just had to carry on as normal, not slip up by letting him know she now knew about the letter, and then they could do a big romantic reveal on the Saturday. They had also drafted in her mum and dad, which meant Pete and Polly (and Tatters) were now involved, and Pippa had a feeling that the whole village probably now knew the ins and outs of her private life. Lottie’s reassurances that they always did anyway was not much succour.

  She was going to find it hard to keep this to herself. Words were constantly burbling over the curve of her lips every time she thought of the letter. Words like ‘Sorry, I’m an idiot,’ and ‘Marry me’. Those, she needed to keep in; it was just that silence wasn’t her natural state of being.

  As she approached the school, she saw him wandering down the road towards the building, dressed as Neptune and complete with fork and wavy sea hair made of blue and green crepe paper. Her heart swelled so big with love she didn’t know what to do with herself. With any luck she’d lose the power of speech once they came face to face, otherwise she’d blurt out all of the secret plans that her family and friends had already cobbled together.

  ‘Hey, you look great. You were obviously born to be a mermaid,’ Kam grinned at her as they reached each other. She had forgotten for a moment that she too was in costume, and up until the revelations on Sea Shanty night she had been really excited about wearing the most beautiful iridescent tail that her mother had managed to make. Today it seemed unimportant and she tried desperately to find her tongue and keep it appropriate, whilst forcing phrases from the letter – now memorised – out of her head.

  But it was difficult.

  I love the way you light up every room when you enter it.

  I love the way you crinkle your nose when you laugh.

  Really difficult.

  I love the way you have no qualms about being true to yourself and cherish those around you.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Kam raised an eyebrow and she realised she hadn’t answered him.

  ‘Fine, just mermaid brain I guess. You okay? Right let’s go find our babies… um… class. Let’s go find the class. They should be milling about on the field.’

  She walked beside him, desperate to reach out and grab his hand to give it a little squeeze just so he knew she was here at his side and willing to be so forever. Instead she walked next to him with eyes fixed firmly on the floor, reminding herself that everyone else was on board with the plan and that she should be too.

  The children were beyond excited as the two of them walked onto the field and her heart stopped melting over Kam and began to melt a little with pride at how well everyone had done. All of them were in costume: some shop­bought, some home­made but all had put in a real effort.

  Lottie was darting about the field with her face painting kit adding details to the faces of the children who wanted it, whilst shooting looks at Pippa that very clearly stated, ‘Don’t you dare spoil the surprise!’

  Alice was trying to calm a gaggle of children who were running harum-scarum across the field, toppling each other over, and whose parents had disappeared, a common occurrence with The Smuggler’s Curse being so close. Other parents, the ones who had stayed, were taking photos with their phones, and photographers from the local paper and the local news were also swirling around the field snapping images and having mini interviews. Pippa saw Hugo Sweetling from the local news chatting to Rosy in front of the cameras.

  The whole field was alive with celebration and, as it had for all the week so far, the sun shone bright with no hint of rain to spoil the fun. A klaxon sounded to request that people got into their groups and lined up in order. The procession was about to begin. It was then that Pippa realised that Marion was nowhere to be seen, not pushing Rosy out of the way to ensure more TV coverage for herself, not sounding the klaxon and shouting orders at anyone in the vicinity, or circling with a scary predatory look trying to see what Neptune had under his scaly tail. This was odd. Where on earth was she?

  ‘Have you seen Marion?’ she whispered out of the side of her mouth to Kam as they queued up by the gate ready with the others.

  ‘No. Is she not here? Maybe she had something important on, or they’re all on a family holiday.’

  ‘Hmmm, you have met her, right? This is her thing, her biggest event of the year. She’s normally reduced at least five children and three sets of parents to tears by now. I’m worried.’

  ‘Well, don’t be. There’s not a lot you can do right now… Okay, Billy, looking great there… she’ll be okay. She’s Marion. Maybe she’s decided to go sort out Parliament, or Windsor Castle. You know, bigger and better things.’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe I should whizz around and check on her.’

  ‘And leave me here to deal with this great gaggle of monsters? Please, don’t. Look the parade is
about to begin. If you’re really worried I’ll come knock on her with you afterwards. But I’m sure she’s absolutely fine.’

  ‘Okay, good point. We’ll do that.’

  Her voice was drowned out by the cheers that erupted from parents and all the visitors who had turned up to celebrate with Penmenna, as the children turned the corner and started off down Fore Street.

  There was music blaring from many of the floats. So many community groups had got involved and Pippa thought this year might be the biggest, brashest and most colourful turn out yet. She couldn’t stop the beam of pride she was feeling towards her community right now.

  Pippa found herself singing along with the float in front, her mouth open wide as she threw herself into the music. She caught Kam watching her out of the corner of her eye and giggled as she said, ‘I know, loud and very, very off-key,’ and felt the grin cross her face as she said it, and then suddenly wipe clean straight off it as Kam gave her a funny look.

  Shit, that was the exact phrasing from the letter. She really hoped the words weren’t as etched in his heart as they were in hers, but seeing as they were his words in the first place, she didn’t fancy her chances. Good job she never fancied being a spy; she’d be utter rubbish.

  She covered her mistake quickly by nodding her head towards the pavement and shouted at him over the noise that surrounded them, ‘Look, I’ve never seen it this busy before. People must have come for miles around.’

  The street was lined with people all waving and shouting encouragement. The noise seemed to be rising and it was getting hard to make out any individual words, but looking at Kam’s lips (she found it very hard not to) it looked like he had exclaimed, ‘No way! How on earth?’

 

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