A Cornish Wedding

by Jenny Kane

  ‘I’m not surprised. Those kids know how to let off steam! I would have thought you’d be hardened to it by now though.’

  ‘Some things will always be annoying, and the sound of screaming children is one of them!’

  ‘Spoken like a true earth mother.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Beth, knowing her lunch break was almost over, got to the point. ‘Anyway, I’m calling because next month is the first anniversary of when Abi arrived in Cornwall. We thought we should celebrate somehow. Plan a party or something. What do you think?’

  Max sank down onto a deckchair in the back garden of the St Ives house he was working on. Good-natured to the core, he was trying not to be annoyed that Beth had remembered about Abi’s anniversary. He’d known it would be too much to hope that the gallery’s birthday was overlooked, nor should it be, but Abi’s arrival in Cornwall was also the anniversary of the day they’d met. The day that, for the first time since he’d discovered his ex-wife had been having an affair, he had allowed himself to admit there could be another woman out there for him.

  He raked one of his large palms through his short ginger hair. He’d been thinking about asking Abi if she was ready for them to move on as a couple. In fact, the thought had been slowly building into an obsession, keeping him awake at night, and causing his concentration to suffer at work. Max was convinced he’d have finished this job two days ago if his mind hadn’t kept wandering off into either happy daydreams of him and Abi living happily together in her new home, to nightmare scenarios, of Abi telling him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want to share her dream home with anyone. Ever.

  He knew he was being irrational, but Max didn’t seem to be able to stop the mad cycle of contradictory thoughts in his head. He had been meaning to ask Beth’s advice, but she and Abi were so close, and anyway, Beth didn’t seem quite herself at the moment.

  Now he came to think about it, Max couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Beth laugh. He frowned. Normally she would have made some sort of silly comment or laughed when he’d called her an earth mother. Today she hadn’t. Deciding he’d call her back as soon as the school day ended to see if she and Jacob were alright, Max returned to the shower room.

  If Jacob was messing Beth about, he’d better start looking for a new studio in Outer Mongolia, and even then that might not be far enough away if the potter had hurt his childhood friend.

  Max was about to get out a syringe of putty to top up the seal he’d placed around the shower’s basin, when his phone rang again.

  ‘Abi! You beat me to it. I was going to call as soon as I’d finished this job in about an hour.’

  ‘Do you want me to call back?’

  ‘No way! I miss you. I know it’s daft, but not seeing you every day seems weird. I can’t believe you’ve got through to me. This must be the only room in the whole house with a mobile signal.’

  Abi wanted to tell Max about the new neighbour in person. She needed him to envelop her tiny frame in his bulky one, and cuddle the unexpectedly mixed up feelings she had about Stan’s wedding, out of her. ‘Max, is there any chance of you coming home tonight? I need to talk to you.’

  ‘I’m just finishing up. I’ll be home by about four with luck.’ Alarm bells were ringing in Max’s head. This couldn’t be anything good. ‘You’re alright, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I think I’m in a state of shock.’

  Max packed his tools into the van at top speed, and was about to drive to Abi’s house as fast as the narrow lanes would allow, when his phone went again. ‘Typical,’ he muttered to himself before answering, ‘no bloody signal all week, and now I’m leaving, the phone doesn’t stop ringing!’

  ‘Max Decorates, how can I help you?’

  Chapter Four

  The happy community of toadstool-dwelling pixies Abi had been commissioned to draw, as illustrations for a forthcoming picture book, was still without any actual pixies. By four o’clock, after her fifth attempt to make her lead character appear cheeky but loveable had failed, and the gallery’s trickle of visitors had dried up, Abi had had enough. Driving herself mad with her thoughts, which had been seesawing between Stan’s bombshell and the prospect of London having arrived on her doorstep, she locked up Art and Sole early and headed home.

  Greeted by the ever-obliging Sadie, Abi kicked off her shoes, grabbed a cold can of cola from the fridge, and walked into the early evening sunshine of her back garden. Sitting at the patio table where she’d first got to know Stan and Sadie, Abi replayed the previous evening in her head. She knew she’d got through it by floating along with whatever was said, and nodding whenever she felt she was supposed to. It had been as if she was observing Stan and Dora through the wrong end of a very long telescope, from an ethereal plain. There was Stan – so familiar, so friendly – right there within touching distance, and yet he had been so far away from her that Abi wasn’t sure she’d be able to feel his arm if she reached across the sofa.

  He and Dora were obviously happy and comfortable together. And why shouldn’t they be? Abi knew she minded, and she was cross with herself for minding. She was half looking forward to having the chance to talk to Max about it, and half dreading him thinking that she begrudged Stan’s happiness. Which she didn’t. Not for a second.

  And yet. . .

  ‘Oh, Sadie, I’m being silly aren’t I!’ Abi gave the golden retriever a big hug. ‘Is it because I’ve got used to having Stan all to myself? That I’ve never had to share him before?’ She peered into the dog’s big brown eyes. ‘Is this how you felt when I came and disturbed your quiet life with Stan?’

  Getting nothing but a half-hearted wag of the tail from Sadie, Abi sighed. ‘It isn’t that I don’t like Dora. I’m not sure how much of what she said about her life was true, but I still like her, and I can see why Stan does too. There’s so much life in her compared to most of the residents in the flats. You’d never guess she was eighty-five. And to see him so happy and settled is certainly a weight off my mind. I’ve never really forgiven myself for interrupting your lives here and. . .’

  Abi broke off mid-sentence as she heard a sound behind her, and Max appeared via the kitchen doorway. ‘So this is where you’re hiding.’

  ‘Max!’ Abi got to her feet and ran into her boyfriend’s arms, becoming enveloped in his much larger frame. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘I’m not surprised; you were deep in conversation with this wise old girl here.’ Sadie was already on her feet, wagging her tail wholeheartedly at the arrival of the man who took her on the most interesting walks, and always gave her plenty of tasty snacks which were well off the list of sensible foods for dogs.

  ‘You don’t have to give me those puppy eyes, Sadie.’ Max dug a hand into his overall pocket and pulled out a doggy chew. ‘I’d never leave you out.’

  ‘Sadie gets a chew, what do I get?’ Abi fluttered her eyelashes at Max, who answered her question by reengulfing her in one of his bear hugs, instantly making her feel safe as she shuffled her petite frame against his bulky one.

  ‘Better?’

  ‘I’d like to stay here a bit longer actually.’

  Kissing the top of her head, Max said, ‘So, what’s been happening? What was the shock you mentioned? I was worried.’

  Abi held him tight as she explained, ‘Shocks plural, I’m afraid. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you, Max. So much has happened so fast, and I guess I’ve got used to talking things out with you. I’ve missed you not being around.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear it.’ A flicker of hope arose in Max’s chest. Perhaps he wasn’t so mad to consider asking Abi if she wanted them to live together. Keeping hold of her, he sat Abi on his lap on the garden bench and stroked her blonde ponytail through his fingers. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘The first thing is Stan.’

  ‘Oh God, he’s not ill is he?’

  ‘Not at all. In fact, I’ve never seen him look fitter or happier.’

  Max frowned. �
��So what’s the problem then?’

  Abi took a deep breath and, twisting around so she could see the reaction on Max’s face, said, ‘He’s getting married.’

  ‘What?’ Max couldn’t believe it. Was everyone out to steal his thunder? First Beth and Jacob had unwittingly gatecrashed his idea to celebrate the anniversary of Abi’s arrival, and now Stan had asked some old biddy to marry him, when he was sure everyone was expecting him to be asking Abi any minute now. Whether they were ready to or not. . .

  ‘Max? Are you with me?’ Abi was looking at him with concern.

  ‘Sorry. . .yes. I think I might be in shock as well. Are you serious, Abi?’

  ‘Very much so. I went over to St Buryan for my usual fortnightly dinner with Stan last night, but it wasn’t only me and Sadie with Stan. At first I thought Dora was just one of his new friends, but the way they looked at each other. . .it gave them away before they told me they were a couple. I hadn’t even got my head around that idea before they dropped the wedding bombshell.’

  ‘So, who is she, this Dora?’

  ‘Stan’s bridge partner.’

  ‘Did you like her?’

  ‘Yes, I did. She’s a lot of fun. But, Max. . .I know it sounds mean-spirited of me. . . and I am pleased Stan’s happy. . .but he’s eighty-nine!’

  Max held her closer. ‘And I have no doubt you said all the right things, and made Stan feel OK about it?’

  ‘I hope so. He’s so thrilled by it all. I tried hard to keep the concern out of my eyes, and obviously I’d never want to spoil his joy. But. . .’

  Max thought about Stan, and not for the first time was impressed by the old man’s zest for life. He sat up straighter and took Abi’s hand. ‘Tell me about Dora. I assume you asked her a lot of questions about herself?’

  ‘I didn’t ask much, to be honest. I was sort of stunned. I must have come across as a bit manic with my fixed smile by the end. I was like a rabbit in headlights.’

  Moving so she was sat against Max’s side, Abi stretched her legs out along the bench while attempting to describe Stan’s girlfriend. ‘I got the impression Dora was a bit of a player in her day. You know I said she was Stan’s bridge partner? Well, she’s also something of a poker whizz. Stan called her a card shark.’

  ‘He probably didn’t mean that literally though.’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Stan’s not daft, Abi. His body may not be tip-top any more, but his brain is as sharp as ever. He wouldn’t be easily taken in.’ Max thought for a moment. His natural inclination was not to be negative about a person he’d never met, yet his protectiveness towards Stan made him say, ‘Although I suppose being good at cards would mean she’d be good at bluffing, then?’

  ‘That’s what’s bothering me.’ Abi couldn’t stop fidgeting and swung her leg back onto the floor, turning to face Max again. ‘You don’t think she’s conning Stan, do you?’

  Max frowned, making the freckles on his face bunch into little lines across his forehead. ‘No. Well, I don’t think so. I haven’t met her though, have I, love, so I can’t be sure. But what would be the point of hurting him? If she’s as old as Stan, then she isn’t going to have that long to enjoy his money if she is out to steal it. Unless she has impoverished kids she wants to leave it to?’

  ‘She hasn’t got children, and for that matter, Stan hasn’t got much money. And what he has got is in trust for his daughter and grandchildren in Australia. He’d never change that arrangement, would he?’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t.’ Max shrugged. ‘It feels wrong even speculating like this. We don’t know Dora. And you say Stan is happy, which is the main thing, right?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘What did Beth say when you told her?’

  Abi sighed. ‘I haven’t told her. I know I usually phone her the instant there’s any news, but this feels so big I wanted to talk to you first. Oh, Max, am I a horrible person?’

  ‘You’re a concerned friend. Stan has been so good to both of us, it’s natural you want to look out for him.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Abi kissed him. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘You too.’ Max traced a finger around his girlfriend’s face. ‘I want to hear lots more about Dora, and I am desperate for a vast mug of tea, but there is something I want even more than all that.’

  Abi smiled knowingly. ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘I haven’t seen you for a fortnight, woman! My curiosity, and my desire for a decent cuppa, come a lot further down the list than seeing if you are as beautiful as I remember – from top to toe.’

  Abi placed a mug of tea next to Max’s side of the bed, and climbed back in next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. ‘Dora told me quite a story. I suspect it was true – mostly – although I’m sure she did get a bit carried away on occasions.’

  Lifting his tea to his lips, Max let Abi cuddle into his side. ‘Tell me as much as you can. We’ll worry about if it’s true later.’

  Comfortable and safe against Max’s side, Abi told him Dora’s story. A tale that had made Abi sad at the time, and even as she retold it to Max now, she felt a lump form in her throat.

  Dora had explained to Abi how she had married her first love, Gordon Henry, in 1950, when she was only eighteen years old. A Flight Lieutenant in the RAF, Gordon’s plane had been shot down during the Korean War. And so by the time she was twenty-one she was already a widow.

  It had taken Dora many years to get over the shock, and when she had, she’d explained to Abi, she hadn’t seen any point in anything any more, so she’d taken on various dangerous jobs. The sort of jobs that, at the time, would never normally have been given to a woman. Just before she was twenty-five, she was picked for special training, and did secret work for government departments which, Dora had claimed, she wasn’t supposed to talk about.

  ‘No wonder she had no children. Poor woman.’ Max put his empty mug down. ‘She never got remarried?’

  ‘She said she’d never found anyone who was a patch on Gordon until she met Stan. I have to say, they were really sweet together.’

  ‘Do you buy all that “secret work” stuff?’

  ‘That’s the bit I suspect is embellished. I’ve heard people do that sort of thing when they experience grief young. They invent a means of escapism in their lives.’

  ‘Really? How do you –’

  ‘After Luke died I was given more unwanted advice than anyone ever has the right to receive, and. . .’

  Max put his hand up. ‘I’m sorry. That was tactless of me.’

  Abi kissed him softly. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing at all. But I love you for being sorry anyway.’

  ‘I love you too.’ Max’s stomach gave a loud rumble, making them both laugh, ‘My belly always did have a well-honed sense of timing! Very sexy, I don’t think!’

  Abi, stroked his belly affectionately. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve been eating more than pub snacks for ages.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Come on, let’s cook.’

  Ten minutes later, as he peeled some potatoes for dinner, Max said, ‘I think I’d like to meet Dora myself, just to put my mind at rest.’

  ‘Well, that isn’t going to be a problem.’

  ‘It won’t?’

  ‘As I left Stan, I was called into the new care manager’s office; have you met Dan yet? He’s nice.’

  ‘Briefly, the last time I went. Sadie liked him, so that’s good enough for me. What did Dan want?’

  ‘I think he wanted to reassure me. He told me that Stan and Dora will be able to live together without any problems as far as the home was concerned. There are already some couples in residence, although most of them arrived together. I have to say, Dan did seem genuinely pleased for Stan and Dora. It’s good to know they have someone so kind keeping an eye out for them.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And he wondered if you’d give him a hand helping with moving Dora’s stuff into Stan’s place. Some of her furniture is
antique and quite heavy apparently.’

  ‘I thought you were joking! Seriously? They’re going to live together?’

  Abi couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Why does that shock you? You look more put out by that than the idea of them getting married!’

  ‘Well, I guess I didn’t think it would actually happen. I mean, these things take years to arrange and they don’t exactly have time on their side.’

  Abi smiled. ‘Then I think you should prepare yourself for another shock, Max.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘The wedding is next month.’

  Chapter Five

  Cassandra could barely contain her frustration and disappointment as she climbed into the taxi that had drawn up outside number two Miners Row.

  Half an hour earlier, dressed far too provocatively to have been anything other than freezing cold in the thick-walled cottage, she had rushed to answer her doorbell. Expecting to see a suggestively grinning Justin, she had instead been confronted by an initially beaming, then blushing, delivery man. In one hand, he had the holdall of her clothes which Justin had promised he’d bring with him, and in the other, a huge bunch of flowers.

  Muttering her thanks, Cassandra had hastily signed the proffered electronic device, closed the door again, and with her back pressed against the chilly hall wall, she’d read the card attached to the bouquet. Justin hadn’t even written it himself, but had got the florist – or worse, his secretary – to type it for him.

  My Darling Cassandra, please forgive me. I was so looking forward to our first Cornish night together, but my new job demands me this weekend. I will see you soon, I promise. J xx

  Flying upstairs to the room she’d spent a fairly sleepless night in, and determined not to cry, Cassandra had pulled on her only set of already unpacked casual clothes before running into the back garden so she could get a phone signal to call a cab. Then, sitting at the kitchen table while she waited the half an hour until the car was due to arrive, her heart thumping harder than it ever had, she fought the urge to scream.