by Jenny Lane
‘Did you see Miriam Cassell-Boyd’s daughter-in-law on the cake-stall?’
‘Yes, she seemed such a nice girl. I must say I was a bit surprised to see Mrs Courtney going out of her way to talk to her, though.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose Oliver’s wife would know what happened and, after all, life has to go on...’
Her ears burning, Tamara crept away from the crowd. What would Cassie have done in the circumstances? she wondered. Knowing her sister, she would probably have found the gossipers and demanded to be told what they were talking about – if, of course, she really didn’t know already. Tamara wished she had had the nerve to challenge them. Anyway, no matter what had happened in the past, it was evident that the Courtneys were prepared to let bygones be bygones.
She looked around for Tom, but he was nowhere to be seen and so she decided to forgo tea and make her way back to Miriam. To her surprise, Richard was standing by the cake-stall, counting the piles of silver.
‘There you are at last – what a diabolical crush!’ he exclaimed.
‘Richard’s had a bit of a wasted journey,’ Miriam explained. ‘The doctor at the hospital was called out on an emergency, and so it was suggested that Dick went back next week.’
Richard shrugged his shoulders. ‘Oh, well, these things are sent to try us. Anyway, John Penfold’s found me a flat so that’s one thing sorted out... Have you had any tea?’
‘No, the marquee looked rather crowded, so I didn’t bother.’
Richard looked at his watch. ‘I should imagine they’re just about winding up now – tepid tea and the wasps having a heyday in the jam tarts.’
She laughed and the tension of the past half-hour went.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ he said. ‘How about my taking you out somewhere nice for tea... You won’t mind, will you, Mother?’
Miriam shook her head. ‘I’ll be only too glad to get home and put my feet up.’
When they had packed up, Richard drove them back to Rosemullion House, where Tamara had a quick freshen-up. She changed into a pale green dress that made her look cool and swept her hair to the top of her head. Richard looked at her admiringly when she reappeared.
‘You’re a quick-change artist, I must say. You do look elegant, although I wish you wouldn’t tuck all that pretty hair away... Does Oliver prefer it like that?’
‘Oliver doesn’t get any say in how I do my hair,’ Tamara said firmly. ‘Anyway, it’s too hot to wear it loose.’
The drive was pleasant along winding country lanes.
‘Mother was grateful for your help this afternoon,’ he remarked. ‘I dare say she’d like to have you around all of the time.’
‘I enjoyed it... I didn’t see Melissa. Doesn’t she attend that sort of function?’
‘Oh, yes, generally, but she’s away this weekend, staying with friends in St Ives. She was a bit peeved because I couldn’t manage to accompany her and so I’m compromising and going down tomorrow. Nice place, St Ives. It’s the “in” scene for artists. To have a studio at St Ives is really considered something... I must run you down there before you go back, if time permits. It’s a quaint town, although rather commercialised nowadays of course, like everywhere else.’
Tamara smiled politely, feeling rather disappointed. She was obviously only being taken out by Richard because Melissa wasn’t about. He had probably been asked to do so by his mother and considered it some kind of duty. It took the shine off it somehow.
They stopped for high tea in a farmhouse off the beaten track. The meal was delicious, and Tamara could not but help enjoy Richard’s company. She supposed he must be a very boring person after Melissa, and she couldn’t even play tennis. Her heart was heavy.
‘A penny for them, Cassie!’
‘Oh, I was just thinking about my sister Tamara spending her holiday in London in all this heat.’
‘You should have brought her down with you,’ said Richard. ‘Mother wouldn’t have minded and it would have been company for you, unless you’re like Oliver and myself, poles apart... Sorry, that was tactless!’
‘Not at all and we are, although we get on pretty well for all that. Tam is the stay-at-home one – would you credit that she turned down a holiday in Canada?’ She explained and he looked surprised.
‘But perhaps she’s got something to keep her in London... a boyfriend?’
For some unaccountable reason Tamara found herself telling him all about Ian and the way he had jilted her. Richard listened intently, and when she had finished she half expected him to say, ‘So what? Lots of people have to face far worse things than that,’ but instead he rubbed his chin and commented, ‘Tough lines. I bet it shook her up a bit – no wonder she didn’t want to go to Canada to be with a family this summer. I don’t blame her.’
‘That’s it exactly,’ Tamara said. ‘You’ve put your finger right on it.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘Why don’t you ring her up and ask her to come on down... I could mention it to Mother when we get back.’
‘No, it’s awfully kind, but I know she’d refuse – she’s rather shy, you see, and besides, she needs time to get over it.’
He reached for the bill. ‘I don’t know that I agree with you – all this sun would do her a power of good and actually from what I hear of it, London’s wet – anyway, think it over.’
Tamara’s heart was beating wildly. She could ring up Cassie and tell her what Richard had said and then reveal her true identity. But then cold reason washed over her like a douche of icy water. The Cassell-Boyds would probably be deeply offended and no doubt Richard would change his attitude towards her if he knew the truth, and the golden summer would end. Tamara would probably be sent away deeply mortified and get Cassie into disgrace to boot.
‘You’re looking very solemn, young woman. Are you feeling tired after the hectic afternoon?’
‘Yes, I am a bit weary,’ she confessed. ‘It was a super tea. Thanks, Richard.’
‘Don’t mention it – we’ll do it again some time.’
As they drove back through the village they passed Melissa’s craft shop. ‘Have you had a look round here yet?’
‘No, I keep meaning to – your mother said it would interest me.’
‘Oh it’s the usual bric-a-brac, although Mel doesn’t go in for cheap tourist stuff on the whole... Perhaps you could find something nice for your sister, to cheer her up.’
Cassie would not touch cheap perfume or jewellery with a barge pole, but perhaps Tamara could find a piece of pottery that would meet with her sister’s approval.
When they arrived back at Rosemullion House, Richard took Tamara’s arm lightly and led her into the sitting-room. The colonel and Miriam were apparently still at supper, for it was empty.
‘Funny how things turn out, isn’t it?’ Richard said as he stretched out on the sofa with a newspaper.
‘How do you mean, Richard?’
‘I mean my dear sister-in-law, it’s funny how we met up with each other at Paddington, and how it’s me showing you your first glimpse of Cornwall instead of Oliver.’
‘Yes, it is strange the way things happen,’ she agreed, wishing that she had the courage to tell him the truth.
*
The next day Richard drove off to St Ives, and Tamara accompanied Miriam and the colonel to church. It was another sweltering day and, after lunch, the Cassell-Boyds went to have a rest. Tamara felt at a loose end. She could not seem to settle to anything. It was too hot to sit in the garden and too soon after her meal to go for a swim. It suddenly occurred to her that while the others were out of the way it would be a golden opportunity to phone Cassie. It would be so much more convenient than trying to make a long-distance call from a box. It was quite fruitless, however, because Cassie was out. Tamara could only hope that her sister would contact her soon, although, knowing Cassie, she realised that unless anything really urgent cropped up she would be unlikely to hear from her. Cassie always had been the world’s worst correspondent.
It suddenly struck Tamara that this would be a good chance to visit Tom’s studio and have a chat with him, even though it would be rather a hot walk. He had told her it was open on Sunday afternoons during August to attract the tourists. She scrawled Miriam a note saying that she was going for a walk, and set off to the village for the second time that day.
At first she thought she was unlucky, for the studio looked deserted, but when she tried the door it opened and so she went in. She found herself inside a large whitewashed room which provided a superb foil for the brilliant colours Tom used in his paintings. Tamara had not known quite what to expect and had been half afraid that she might not like his work, but she was pleasantly surprised. She stood admiring the bold landscapes and seascapes which were rather impressionistic in style and full of expression. Tom definitely had talent and she particularly liked his use of colour.
There were a few pieces of pottery tastefully displayed in one corner together with some exquisite paintings on pebbles and a selection of enamel jewellery. Tamara presumed they came from Melissa’s shop. She was examining them when she heard footsteps approaching outside and presently Tom appeared.
‘Melissa’s handiwork. She’s good, isn’t she? Anne wants to have a shot at the pebble painting next... She spotted you from the window, by the way.’
‘I hope you didn’t mind... The door was open so I thought I’d have a look round.’
‘Delighted.’ He came and stood by her side. ‘Well, what d’you think of my humble efforts, then?’
‘I like them very much indeed, Tom... You’re very gifted. Did you sell any yesterday?’
‘Nope, not a thing. People came in but they just browsed. No, I tell a lie, they bought a couple of Anne’s wild flower pictures. She’s thrilled to bits, bless her heart. Mel’s away this weekend, so Anne put them here just to see how they would fare. Coming in for a cuppa?’
‘I’d like that, Tom, but before I do will you tell me if there’s any reason why I shouldn’t be friendly with you?’ On an impulse she repeated the gossip she had overheard at the fête. A strange look momentarily flickered across his face.
‘Cassie, take my advice and ignore any gossip you might hear concerning Oliver and me. I can’t forget the past, but it needn’t concern you.’
Nevertheless, the remark did not really ease the situation and Tamara wished Tom would tell her what had happened, but it was obvious that he didn’t intend to do so. Perhaps when she got to know him better he would be more forthcoming. She decided to reveal her true identity, partly because she felt the need to confide in someone, and partly because she thought that once Tom knew she wasn’t Cassie, he might be prepared to talk to her more freely about the past. If there was something Cassie ought to know regarding Oliver, then Tamara was surely the best person to tell her.
‘Tom there’s something I’d like to tell you confidentially.’ She glanced round cautiously. ‘No-one can hear, can they?’
He laughed. ‘Not unless there’s someone lurking under the table... Hey, come on out, you!’ He took Tamara’s arm. ‘All clear, and just to make absolutely sure of no interruptions, I’ll put up the closed notice... Satisfied? Now what is all this, Cassie?’
‘As a matter of fact, Tom, I’m not Cassie.’
His jaw dropped open, ‘Now, hang on – has she got a double? Are you her twin sister or something?’
‘Her sister, yes – my name’s Tamara Simpson. Cassie’s back in London acting in a play. You see, it was like this...’
Tom listened in stunned silence to Tamara’s explanation and, when she had finished, he said, ‘And how do I know that you’re not just having me on and that this isn’t just one big leg-pull?’
Tamara shrugged her shoulders. ‘Because I wouldn’t agree to forge Cassie’s signature on cheques and things, and so I’ve got my own cheque-book and banker’s card with me – see, here.’ She produced them from her bag and he studied them incredulously.
‘Well, I guess if I were a man worth my salt, I’d go straight to Rosemullion House and tell the colonel and his wife that their daughter-in-law is an imposter.’
Tamara’s mouth went dry. ‘I’m not stopping you, Tom, but it would only cause ill-feeling when there’s no need. I assure you, it’s all perfectly harmless, and I’m enough like Cassie for her to get away with it when she visits here in the future. In any case, if what Richard says is true, then the Cassell-Boyds would welcome me... Actually Richard even suggested I invited myself to stay.’
Tom threw back his head and roared with laughter, and Tamara stared at him in amazement. ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.
‘I’ll say this for you – you’ve got some spunk. So Oliver’s got his come-uppance at last, and high time too. I’d really like to meet the real Cassie. She must be quite a girl to stand up to him as she does... Oh, this is the best joke I’ve heard in years... You’re not married, then?’
‘No,’ Tamara said, ‘not even engaged... So you will keep my secret, then?’
He smiled. ‘Yes, I’m delighted to be in your confidence. Of course, you realise this puts an entirely different light on things? While it would have been extremely improper for me to have flirted with Cassie Cassell-Boyd, there is nothing to prevent me from showing more than a friendly interest in her sister – if, of course, said sister is in agreement.’
Tamara had not considered this aspect before. She said hastily: ‘Tom, I really would appreciate that tea, if I’m still invited.’
‘So would I – good treatment for shock – yes... er, Cassie, I’ll keep your secret, and to seal my promise...’ His arm encircled her waist and he dropped a light kiss on her mouth. To her surprise, she did not flinch away as she would have done a few months ago. It seemed that the painful memories of Ian had gone at last and that she really was ready for a new love.
She laughed shakily. ‘Tom don’t forget that I’m supposed to be Cassie and, as such, must behave like the model newly married woman.’
He grinned. ‘I assure you there are no secret cameras hidden anywhere in my studio and no bugging devices either. When we’re in company, I promise my behaviour will be exemplary, but when we’re alone you’d better watch out because, I’m warning you, I’m more than a little attracted to you, Cassie’s sister, and you owe me something for not giving you away.’
‘Blackmail, Tom Courtney is a wicked thing,’ she admonished him.
‘And impersonation is pretty bad too.’ He took her hand. ‘Come on, let’s go and find Anne... Great Scott! Barney’s been lying behind that screen all the time! Do you suppose he’s heard our conversation?’
Barney gave a mighty yawn and then, recognising Tamara, greeted her rapturously. ‘If you let him kiss you too you should be okay – isn’t that so, Barney?’ Barney barked in obvious agreement.
While Tom was busy in the kitchen, Tamara helped Anne with a jigsaw she was doing of Coverack. Barney kept putting his nose in the way and in the end laid his head on Tamara’s lap and went to sleep.
‘He knows a genuine friend when he sees one,’ Anne remarked with a smile. ‘Daddy, there’s cake in the tin... Granny bought it at the fête yesterday.’
‘Looks a bit sticky to me!’ Tom returned bearing a tea-tray.
‘Where’s Richard this afternoon, then?’ Tamara had a feeling that he knew the answer already, but just wanted it confirmed.
‘He’s gone to St Ives to visit some friends of Melissa’s.’
‘And Melissa of course,’ he said meaningfully. ‘Will you be mother or shall I?’
Anne laughed. ‘Oh, you are funny, Dad – I hope you warmed the pot.’
He sighed, ‘You can see how henpecked I am. My daughter never gives me credit for anything. You’d better watch out, my girl, with your birthday so near.’
‘When is it, Anne?’ asked Tamara thinking that she would buy the girl a little gift to repay all the kindness shown to her.
‘Thursday – I’m having a picnic. Aunt Cassie could come too, could
n’t she, Daddy? There’s room in the van.’
‘I’m sure she’s got plenty to do without coming on our old picnics, love, but of course you’d be more than welcome, Cassie.’
‘I’d love to come, Anne, I really would, but I don’t know yet whether Mrs Cassell-Boyd has got anything planned.’
Anne looked disappointed. ‘We’re going to a super little cove where it’s safe for swimming... It’s very pretty, isn’t it, Dad?’
Tamara promised that she would come if she could, and then catching sight of the time exclaimed. ‘I really must be going now or Miriam will be wondering where I’ve got to. Thanks for the tea. If I don’t make your picnic I’ll be sure to see you some time on your birthday, Anne.’
Tom stood talking with Tamara at the gate, and she realised what an easy man he was to get on with. ‘Isn’t Melissa going on the picnic, Tom?’
His face clouded. ‘Oh, Melissa doesn’t say no to our company when Richard’s not around, but when he is we never clap eyes on her. I suppose I ought to be used to that by now. After all, I’ve always played second fiddle to the Cassell-Boyds. Richard has such a dynamic personality that the girls go mad over him, but he seems to be impervious to their charms and, for the most part, ignores them – apart from Melissa of course. That’s where he differs from Oliver, who used to leave a trail of broken hearts wherever he went... Oh, I do beg your pardon!’
Tamara laughed. ‘That’s all right, I rather gathered that. Cassie was lucky, wasn’t she, to have netted him?’
Tom smiled. ‘It’s Oliver that’s the lucky one, I reckon, from what you’ve told me about your sister... Do come to the picnic if you possibly can. It’ll make our day.’
She waved goodbye and walked back along the lane, humming to herself. She felt considerably happier now that she had confided in Tom, for she could be her own natural self from now on in his company, with all barriers down.
