‘I’m sure,’ I said. Listening to Big Dave was like getting a tutorial on how not to handle fame. ‘If you had your time again, what would you do differently?’
‘I’d be proud of who I was, what I’d achieved, and I’d let my cooking do the talking. And if I had done that, I’d still have my own restaurant today.’
He heaved a big sigh and looked at me wistfully. ‘But that was a long time ago; I don’t like to talk about it,’ he finished off, pressing his lips together firmly.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ I said, wondering how long I’d have been here if he had wanted to talk about it.
‘Now I just cook for myself and special clients.’
‘Well, lucky us,’ I said with a grin. Having an award-winning chef on tap was another huge plus point to add to the Brightside Holidays website and I couldn’t wait to tell Theo about him. ‘I am so glad we met.’
‘Me too.’ Big Dave smiled shyly. ‘So crab salad, twelve covers, shall we say one o’clock tomorrow?’
‘Deal.’ I started to move away and then hesitated. ‘Dave … my sudden blast of fame has thrown me a bit too. Any advice?’
His wise face softened and he patted my arm. ‘Use it wisely and remain true to yourself and you won’t go far wrong.’
We swapped numbers in case of any problems before I left him to carry on with his lobster cage repairs. Sapphire Spencer couldn’t fail to be impressed by tomorrow’s lunch. This was turning out better than I could have dreamed of. Next stop, The Sea Urchin pub to place an order for enough alcohol to quench the thirst of twelve hens …
Thirty minutes later, the bar at Driftwood Lodge had been well and truly stocked. Raquel, the landlady, had recommended wines, given me instructions for a few simple cocktails, suggested a selection of mixers, and had even let me borrow some glasses for the weekend. And after extracting a promise to have it all delivered before the hen party arrived, I left her ordering some extra cases of champagne from her wine merchant.
My final job before returning to Driftwood Lodge was to source some supplies for our beauty treatments.
‘Don’t get up,’ I said brightly, pushing open the door of Jethro’s General Store.
‘Wasn’t about to,’ he said, knocking his baseball cap up to make it easier to scowl at me. ‘I’ve got Policeman’s heel. I’m in purgatory over here. I’d complain but no one would listen.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ I murmured. ‘I’ll help myself.’
There wasn’t exactly a wide range of buckets but there were four yellow ones in the shape of castles so I bought them all plus four washing-up bowls.
‘What do you want all those for?’ said Jethro, wincing as he got to his feet, too nosy to stay seated.
‘The usual,’ I said innocently. ‘Putting sand in.’
For our Brightside beach sand pedicures. Another DIY beauty treatment we’d pilfered from the internet. Honestly, I didn’t know why people bothered going to fancy spas. All you needed was water, sand, coconut oil and salt.
‘Heard you got visitors this weekend. From London,’ he muttered suspiciously.
‘Good news travels fast.’ I put the buckets on the counter and handed him the exact money. God forbid I made work for him by having to give me change. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they don’t bother you.’
‘They already have. Big Dave has just been in. Cleared me out of lemons. Well, the lemon. I was going to have that for my tea.’ He gave me a sideways glance. ‘On Sunday. Don’t know what I’ll have now. Still. Don’t you worry about me.’
I could see where this was going. I had to get out of the shop quickly or I’d end up inviting him to ours.
‘Have you got a bag, please?’ I asked.
While Jethro tutted and ferreted about under the counter for something big enough, the door opened and a tall man wearing wetsuit bottoms, sunglasses and flip-flops sauntered in holding a camera followed by Eliza, looking very curvaceous in a full-body wetsuit.
Her face lit up when she saw me. ‘Hey, beauty!’
‘Only one child at a time,’ said Jethro, appearing from under the counter with a black bin liner.
‘Ha ha,’ Eliza said, pretending to grip her sides with mirth.
‘Yep. Very funny,’ agreed the tall man. ‘As ever.’
‘Why is that funny?’ I asked, greeting Eliza with a hug.
‘He’s been saying that to us since we started school,’ she said wearily.
‘This is your brother?’
It was obvious now that I looked properly. The man was a good head and shoulders taller than his sister but he had identical intense blue eyes, a similar snub nose and blonde hair, although his didn’t have pink tips.
‘That joke never gets old.’ Jethro made a wheezing noise, which I realized was as close as he probably got to a laugh. He pushed the bin liner towards me. ‘All I’ve got, take it or leave it.’
I thanked him for his kindness and put my purchases in it.
‘So you’re the man I have to thank for blowing my cover last week,’ I said archly.
He reached for my hand. ‘Danny Tyler, sex god and professional photographer at your service.’
‘I’ve heard it all now,’ Jethro muttered.
‘And what do you need to say to Nina?’ Eliza nudged him.
‘I owe you an apology for dobbing you in on Facebook last week.’ He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. And then ruined it by adding, ‘Apparently.’
‘Danny!’ she cried.
‘We-ll,’ he said with a casual shrug. ‘She probably enjoyed the attention.’
‘It was quite annoying, actually,’ I said, shaking off his hand.
‘Use my shop as a youth club, why don’t you?’ Jethro piped up, lowering himself with exaggerated care into his chair. ‘Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here and ponder what to have for my tea on Sunday. While someone eats my lemon.’
‘We’ll get out of your way, Jethro,’ said Eliza, pushing me towards the door.
‘Until next time, dude,’ said Danny, winking at him. ‘Be lucky.’
‘At my age?’ we heard him chunter as we left the shop. ‘Lucky to be alive, you mean.’
I checked the time and prepared to make my getaway. I still had to make contact with Angie of Deliciously Devon and make a shopping list for food for tomorrow’s breakfast.
‘Bye then—’ I began.
‘So,’ Danny interrupted me by clapping his hands, ‘I thought we’d head for the rocks at the far side of the cove.’ He took the lens cap off his camera, zoomed into my face and then lowered it to his chest. ‘Freckles. Cool.’
‘See, I knew you’d like her,’ Eliza said smugly.
‘The lens likes her,’ he corrected smoothly, ‘I think we can work together.’
‘I’m flattered,’ I said drily.
‘Great. So if you want to get the clobber on?’ he said, nudging me towards Eliza’s shop.
I looked at her. ‘What clobber?’
‘The Peacock Mermaid tail you chose yesterday definitely suits your colouring,’ she said, looping her arm through mine. ‘We’ll do the pictures for my website in that.’
She began to move but I stayed rooted to the spot.
‘But I can’t do a photo shoot today!’ I shot her a panicky look. ‘I’ve got the Maidens of Mayfair in limos, right now, heading this way.’
‘They’ll be hours,’ said Danny cheerily. ‘The motorway is at a standstill. Heard it on the news.’
‘It won’t take long and you did promise,’ said Eliza, increasing the grip on my arm.
‘Did I?’
‘Quick sticks,’ she said, chivvying me forwards. ‘You’re in a hurry, remember.’
It suddenly dawned on me that the two of them were dressed for the water.
‘I’m not going to get wet, am I?’ I asked suddenly.
‘Absolutely not.’ Eliza shook her head solemnly.
‘Scouts’ honour,’ said Danny, tapping his forehead in a two-fingered sal
ute.
‘Because that’s non-negotiable,’ I said sternly.
Chapter 17
I put on the shell-clad bikini and pulled my shirt on over it. The tail would have to go on once we made it down to the rocks.
‘This is it. My big break.’ Eliza passed Danny the bag containing the mermaid tail while she locked the shop door and stuck a note to it saying she’d be back in half an hour.
‘I keep pinching myself. My first proper customers are TV celebrities and I’ll have an actress on my website wearing one of my outfits. My dream is coming true thanks to you, Nina. This time next year I’ll be famous and people will be travelling from all over the country to be a mermaid for the day.’
‘Glad to help,’ I said happily. I knew that feeling of euphoria. I’d been the same when I’d landed the role in Victory Road, that things were going my way, my dreams were coming true. Not exactly Keira Knightley status yet, but on my way. ‘But what about your shop? You won’t be able to keep popping out when you’ve got clients.’
‘I shall delegate the shop to another member of my team,’ she said airily, ‘while I’m busy making a success of the mermaid school.’
‘Hmmm. I do want to help you with your photo shoot, Eliza,’ I said, checking the time again anxiously. ‘But I want Brightside Holidays to be a success too, for Theo and Kate’s sake. Do we really have to do this now?’
She nodded. ‘The website is ready to launch; all I need are the photographs.’
‘And I’ve only got today off work,’ Danny added. ‘In demand, me.’
‘Okay, let’s go.’ I followed the pair of them past the harbour and along the path to the far end of the cove.
Danny’s dream, he confided on the way, was to work full time as a photographer. He was doing an evening course at college and by day worked in a high-street photographic shop, churning out other people’s holiday snaps.
‘I need these pictures for my portfolio,’ Danny went on. ‘My only claim to fame so far is taking a passport photograph for Jude Law. He came to Devon on holiday and had his passport stolen. He let me keep one of them and signed it for me, saying it was the worst holiday of his life. Happy days.’
We walked as far as the old lifeboat house at the edge of the bay. It was a rather lovely brick building; it had a pitched roof topped with a pointed statue at one end, long narrow windows down each side and a quirky bay window just below the front gable. If it hadn’t been for the double doors at the front wide enough to fit a boat through and the rough concrete slipway running down towards the water, it could easily be mistaken for a chapel. It was all a bit battered and shabby now, but pretty nonetheless, and I bet it had seen many adventures before it had been replaced by the modern lifeboat station further down the coast.
We went round the far side and set our bags down where we were sheltered from the prying eyes of a group of six surfers who’d just piled out of a camper van and were currently loitering at the shoreline. The sand was soft and warmed by the sun beneath my toes, but the air had a nip in it. Danny walked off to the water to locate the best spot for our shoot and Eliza unzipped the bag containing the costume.
I pulled on the tail over bikini bottoms and Eliza fitted the nylon fin into the end. She brushed my hair until it shone and fixed a tiny circlet of shells on top of my head. All I had to do was take my shirt off and my transformation would be complete.
Danny whistled to us. ‘Found the perfect spot!’ he yelled, pointing to a large rock jutting out from the water about twenty metres from shore. ‘Come on!’
‘That’s halfway to France.’ I looked down at my tail. ‘How do I get down there?’
Eliza wrinkled her nose. ‘We roll you down the slipway?’
I glanced over at the surfers, who’d now abandoned any pretence at watching the waves and were sitting on their surfboards staring at us. Or rather, at me.
‘Like a beached whale? No way. Can’t I wade out to the rock and then put the costume on in situ?’
‘You’ll never manage it without getting the tail wet. Besides, these tails are a devil to get into when your skin is wet. And you might fall over, or snag the fabric on the rocks. Either way the pictures would be ruined.’
‘Not to mention me dying of cold.’
Danny came running back up the beach. ‘Hurry up, sis. The sun is hitting the rock just right and the sea looks like mercury through the lens and the water is just about shallow enough so I can stand in it to take the shot.’
I whipped my shirt off and tried to ignore the chorus of wolf whistles from the surfers. ‘Yes, hurry up, it’s not mermaid weather,’ I agreed, wrapping my arms round myself.
‘You’ll have to carry her out,’ said Eliza with a frown. ‘And plonk her on the rock.’
‘Place me down gently, she means,’ I added.
‘Sure.’ Danny swung me up into his arms and immediately staggered. ‘Oof. You’re heavier than you look.’ He lowered me to the sand and pulled an apologetic face. ‘No, can’t do it. The sea floor is rocky and under that weight, I’m bound to slip.’
My cheeks went pink. ‘This isn’t quite the magical experience I thought it was going to be.’
‘We’ll do it between us,’ Eliza suggested, giving him a sharp look. ‘Danny, you take the tail end to make sure it doesn’t get wet. I’ll take the top half.’
‘It?’ I said pointedly. ‘No, listen, there’s a seat lift I had to do once for a scene on Victory Road. Let me show you.’
I looped my arms around their necks and they interlocked their hands, grasping me under my thighs and behind my back. Eliza had beach shoes on but Danny kicked off his flip-flops and left them on the sand.
‘One two three, go,’ Eliza commanded and we set off towards the water.
After only a few paces, I began to list towards her.
‘This would be much better if you two were the same height,’ I gasped.
‘Shut up and concentrate on feeling mystical and powerful and at one with the water,’ she giggled.
‘Not easy when you’re trying to keep your tail dry,’ I said breathlessly. It took all of my core strength to keep my legs out of the sea, my stomach muscles were trembling. ‘I think I’m getting fin flop.’
‘I’ll bend my knees, to make myself shorter,’ Danny offered.
He crouched a bit, which did help, but the camera dangling round his neck swung forward and hit my head and I cried out in pain.
‘I think I should have had a stunt double for this bit,’ I said, wincing. ‘Or at least be paid danger money.’
Behind us a dog started to bark.
‘Mabel!’ called a man’s voice.
‘I know that dog.’ And I recognized the man’s voice too. I craned my neck to try to look behind me, but Eliza and Danny’s grip on me was too tight.
‘Wave alert!’ Eliza yelled. They lifted me up and I raised my tail as much as I could over the rushing water to stay dry.
‘So do I,’ said Danny warily. ‘It’s Jude’s. Daft as a brush and doesn’t obey a word he says.’
‘Keep going!’ Eliza ordered.
We were halfway to the rock. Suddenly Danny stubbed his toe on something on the seabed and swore loudly. The pair of them stumbled and I felt their arms loosen round my back.
‘Do not drop me!’ I yelled, with a laugh. ‘I’ve done some crazy things in my career, but this takes the biscuit.’
Danny winced. ‘I’m all right,’ he said, ‘don’t worry about me.’
‘That was a close shave.’ Eliza exhaled with relief.
‘Unlike Nina’s armpits,’ said Danny under his breath. ‘It’s like having a cuddle with Harambe the gorilla.’
‘I have no idea why you’re still single,’ I muttered.
The barking was suddenly very loud and awfully close and I screamed as freezing-cold sea water splashed up my back.
‘Jeez,’ Danny yelped. ‘It’s nipping at my bum.’
‘Nina, that’s your fault for saying “biscuit”,’ said Eliza
with a snort.
‘Mabel, come back!’ yelled a voice in the distance.
‘Get off!’ Danny yelled. ‘Go away, dog. Jude, help!’
‘What’s happening?’ I said, trying to turn round. In my peripheral vision I caught a flash of brown and white fur as the dog leapt up out of the water and Danny’s hold on me loosened.
‘Moonie!’ yelled a voice and a roar of laughter rose up from the surfers who were now all lying flat on their boards and paddling towards us.
‘Shoo,’ shouted Eliza, kicking out with her leg to splash the dog. ‘Danny, do not let go!’
‘I’ve got to,’ he shouted, as they staggered in the water, which was now up to Eliza’s thighs. ‘The bloody dog has pulled my wetsuit bottoms down with its teeth.’
Eliza let out a hoot of laughter.
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ I howled, ‘my stomach muscles are killing me.’
‘I’m going to have to let go, Nina,’ Danny gasped. ‘I need to pull my wetsuit up. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.’
‘I want to look,’ I demanded.
‘No way,’ said Eliza, ‘both of you. We’re nearly there now. Anyway, you do not want to look, take it from me.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said a male voice sploshing towards us. ‘That’s something you don’t see every day.’
‘Yeah. Luckily,’ said Eliza. ‘I haven’t seen it since we used to have to share a bath as kids.’
‘I meant the mermaid.’
‘For God’s sake, Jude,’ Danny cried. ‘Grab your dog. And yank my pants up for me while you’re at it.’
‘All right, no need to get arsey,’ Jude shouted back with a laugh.
That rich warm laugh and the West Country dialect took me straight back to that near collision I’d had with the blue van, when he – Jude, apparently – had tooted his horn and criticized my driving. ‘She’s just trying to rescue your mermaid,’ he said. ‘She likes fish. Mabel, fetch!’
I heard something plop into the water some distance from us and the dog gave a yelp of delight, splashing me again as she swam away. Then Jude waded towards us. His arm brushed against my skin as he yanked Danny’s wetsuit up. I was dying to see his face.
A Match Made in Devon Page 17
