Scarlett sighed with relief. ‘Thanks, I was worried I looked like I was off to join the circus.’
Their mum walked into the bedroom and joined them by the mirror, appraising Scarlett with a smile on her face and amusement in her eyes. ‘I used to have a jacket just like that.’
It was a while since she’d glimpsed her mum’s lighter side: the ‘old’ Anna. Her mum touched the sleeve of her jacket. ‘It reminds me of my New Romantic days. Very Adam Ant.’
‘Is that a good thing?’ Scarlett asked.
‘I hope so. I thought he was the coolest man in pop.’ Her mum nodded approvingly. ‘The outfit really suits you.’
Ellie nodded enthusiastically. ‘I agree. You look gorgeous, whereas my pirate costume makes me look about as sexy as Mr Smee from Peter Pan.’
Scarlett glanced at herself in alarm. ‘I hadn’t thought this outfit was sexy.’
Her mother’s smile faded. ‘You look very nice and in keeping with the event,’ she said firmly.
Ellie smirked. ‘I’d still like to see Jude’s face when he sees you.’
Their mother was tight-lipped. Scarlett couldn’t fail to notice the disapproval written on her face. Her mood sank a little, but this was definitely not the time to risk a scene.
‘It’s very kind of you to lend him a hand,’ her mother said. ‘I hope he appreciates it.’
‘I don’t mind at all. His mum and dad are busy with their own stall. That’s why I’m helping him,’ Scarlett said, trying to sound blasé, but annoyed by her mum’s attitude towards Jude.
Ellie slid her arm around their mother, perhaps keen to defuse the situation. ‘It’s still not too late to go in costume, Mum, I’m sure we can find something for you.’
‘I think I’ll just go as myself, thank you.’
The grandfather clock struck quarter to five.
Scarlett took off the hat and mask. ‘We’d better leave soon. People will soon be queuing to get into town. Mum, I suggest you set off as well because you could find it hard to get a space. The traders have their own parking.’
‘Thanks, but I’ve got a lift with someone from my watercolour class so I don’t have to worry about that. I’ll go and get ready.’
After Anna had left, Ellie gave Scarlett’s costume a fresh appraisal. ‘You look knockout. No matter what Mum says, you’ll slay Jude.’
‘Hmm. That’s not why I’m dressed like this. I didn’t want to look silly or stand out. Mum really doesn’t seem to like Jude.’ Scarlett sighed. ‘Her view of romance must be screwed at the moment. I so wish it wasn’t.’
‘I know, lovely, but there’s nothing we can do other than let Mum and Dad work things out between them.’
‘What if it ends in them splitting up?’
‘It’ll be horrible, but our job is to support Mum and Dad as best we can,’ Ellie said. ‘I was wondering whether to arrange to go home to see Dad, or if we should try harder to persuade him to come here rather than stay with Marcus and co.’
‘I can’t see that happening, the way things are. Oh God, Ellie.’ Scarlett felt a lump in her throat. ‘How did life get so complicated?’
‘Because however much we want things to stay the same, it’s impossible. Aaron told me that no matter how many risk assessments you carry out, however much planning and training … when he went out on a tour, the sheer randomness, the cruelty and injustice of life was what disturbed him the most.’
‘That’s a horrible image.’
Ellie hugged her. ‘It’s terrifying, but he also told me how much he learned to value his friends and his family. We’re what matter.’ Ellie let her go. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down.’
‘It’s OK. I needed to vent. You really like Aaron, don’t you?’
Ellie frowned. ‘It scares me how much I like him and care about him. I think it’s the first time I’ve felt like this since … well, for a long long time and I … I don’t want my world to suddenly come crashing down.’
Scarlett heard the doubt in Ellie’s voice. ‘Why would it, Ells?’
‘Nothing specific, other than I don’t feel I know him that well. I think he keeps some painful stuff hidden under that tough-guy image.’
‘In that case you should ask him.’
‘He says there’s nothing I need to worry about. No skeletons in the closet.’
‘Everyone has a skeleton.’ She touched Ellie on the arm in reassurance. ‘But Aaron strikes me as totally upfront and straight. I bet you’re worrying about nothing.’
Ellie nodded. ‘What about you and Jude? Any signs of him taking things to the next level?’
She sighed. ‘I could let myself feel a lot more for Jude but something keeps holding me back and he’s made no attempt to move things beyond friends.’
‘I’m sure he will, or you’ll take the initiative when the moment’s right. Take it slowly then. It’s early days, as Dad would say.’
Bong.
‘Oh! It’s five already.’ Scarlett grabbed her hat and mask from the bed.
‘I’ll be right after you. See you at the festival. If I’m allowed a minute away from swabbing the decks!’ Ellie called, on her way out of the bedroom.
Scarlett dashed downstairs and out to the car, vowing to arrange a visit to their father the next morning. She had to get through this evening first. No matter what she’d told Ellie, she was dying to see Jude’s reaction to her outfit and dreading it too. Once again, her confidence wobbled. Would he think she looked ridiculous? Or would tonight be the night they moved beyond friendship to something more?
Scarlett thought that Jude was the type of guy who was quite reticent about women and might need clearer signals that she was interested in a relationship, but did she have the courage to make the first move? She would never know unless she tried, so she steeled herself to be braver if the opportunity arose.
First she had to make it safely into town, which was easier said than done as she drove through the swirling fog, having to focus hard on the road. She’d had to remove the hat and eye mask to drive but put them back on once she’d reached the traders’ parking area.
When she summoned up the nerve to get out of the car, Scarlett felt terribly self-conscious. The only other people she could see were in boringly normal coats and bobble hats. They stared at her: but then that was to be expected. She spotted her reflection in a shop window and did a double take. Within a few moments, however, other creatures, even stranger than herself, began to emerge from the mist. A man in a tailcoat and top hat entwined with mistletoe and greenery was unloading a musical instrument case from his Land Rover. Three people in long robes passed her carrying fiddle, a drum and a tin whistle, and a man with a plague doctor mask called to her in a deep Cornish burr. ‘Nice evening for it, love.’
More and more mysterious figures emerged from the fog as she made her way around the harbour. She’d no idea who they were, but they were setting up stalls, carrying instruments, lanterns and strange sticks. They wore top hats, tricorns and bowlers, adorned with holly and fairy lights. Some had masks of woodland creatures, fantastic birds and beasts or simply eye masks like herself. There were people in Venetian carnival costumes or Morris-dancing gear. A few already had drinks in their hands and at one point she was wolf whistled at by a bear with a pint of Tribute in his hand.
The closer she got to the centre of town and their stall, the more relaxed and liberated she felt to be in disguise. In the fog and wearing her outfit, she’d walked right by two locals she knew who hadn’t even recognised her. Most of the stalls were already set up, and their proprietors were busy arranging their goods and setting up gas bottles and generators for the hot food. Jude’s stall wasn’t far from Sam Lovell’s van, and she’d made sure Jude had a great spot right in the heart of the action, and very close to the marquee where he’d be doing his demo.
The marquee used for the chef’s demonstrations at the summer festival had been pitched again on the green area behind the harbour. Hot food and trade stalls wer
e clustered around the harbour and all the pubs and shops were open late. Coloured lights adorned the lampposts, and some of the boats in the harbour were decorated with lanterns too. Festive music played from loudspeakers.
She hurried towards the stall, hoping Jude wouldn’t mind she was running a few minutes late.
‘Ugh!’
‘Oh!’ Scarlett sprang back. In her haste, she hadn’t been paying attention and had run straight into a man in a highwayman’s outfit. ‘Sorry!’
‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
‘Yes, my fault. I was on another planet.’
He lifted his black highwayman’s mask and his striking green eyes met hers. ‘Scarlett?’
‘Jude? I didn’t recognise you!’
He seemed transfixed by her. ‘Same. Wow.’
Her own mouth hung open.
He wore a fitted black velvet frock coat and an indigo brocade waistcoat. His blond hair was secured by a black ribbon and topped by a tricorn. A bolt of lust hit her. Her throat dried. He was clearly lost for words too.
‘Wow … You look …’
‘Bizarre?’ Scarlett offered with a smile, hoping against hope Jude would deny it.
‘Bizarre is most definitely not the word I’m searching for.’
‘Thanks.’ She grinned in relief and pleasure. ‘So the costume isn’t … too much?’
‘No. Not too much.’ Jude obviously needed a closer inspection from the way he eyed her again from top to toe. ‘On the contrary, it’s very eye-catching.’
Scarlett was giving his outfit an equally thorough appraisal. ‘You look …’ she began, and numerous words ran through her mind. Dangerous, sexy, hotter than a thousand suns … ‘Um. Different,’ she said.
‘Different good or bad?’ The glint in his eye was accentuated by the mask.
‘Hmm. I think I’d say … good. Very good. I especially love the tricorn, but this whole dressing-up thing is seriously weird.’ She laughed lightly, trying to dismiss the wicked scenarios involving being asked to ‘stand and deliver’ that were rampaging through her mind. ‘The whole event feels more serious than a carnival – kind of wicked and pagan.’
Jude laughed. ‘That’s because it probably is meant to be wicked and pagan. I’ve had more time to get used to the weirdness of it than you. I’ve worn this costume to the Penzance festival a few times.’ He smiled, though given his disguise Scarlett would have called it a ‘rakish grin’. She tried not to focus on his black breeches tucked into leather riding boots.
‘Anyway, I was on my way to find you in case you’d forgotten where the stall was in the fog.’
‘I hadn’t, but thanks for thinking of me.’
When they reached the stall, she found that he’d already done most of the arrangement, setting out his books and leaflets on his courses and vouchers among the mistletoe, holly and ivy.
He gazed down at her from behind the mask, the pleasure lighting up his eyes. ‘I’m so glad you agreed to come, Scarlett. It’ll be so much more fun with you here.’
Music filled the air and excitement rippled through her. This could definitely be the night when things took a turn for the better. Maybe her outfit had been a great idea, after all …
Jude lifted two coolbags onto the table, and delicious aromas filled her nose. ‘Come on, let’s finish setting out our wares. The first procession starts in half an hour and the punters will be here any moment now.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Arghh, me hearties! Who wants to see a real-life pirate ship? Who wants to walk the plank?’ Ellie swished her plastic cutlass with a flourish at a family with two boys of around five and seven.
The smaller of the boys pressed closer to his dad at the top of the gangplank while the older one tried to drag his mother on board.
‘Who’d like some hot rum punch and a turkey pasty?’ Ellie asked. ‘Want to come aboard for some tall tales and a taste of life on the high seas?’ she said, addressing the timid boy. ‘There’s fruit punch and ship’s biscuits for the children,’ she added, leaning down. ‘And the pirates aren’t really that scary.’
The little boy shrank against his father. Hmm, he wasn’t convinced, but maybe it was something to do with Ellie’s eye patch and cutlass. His parents reassured him and he was persuaded to cross the gangway onto the Marisco. Ellie kept up the patter, luring people from the stalls to the boat and marshalling the queue to make sure the Marisco wasn’t overwhelmed with excited visitors. She was delighted with the queue that had formed on the quayside, all waiting their turn to get on board.
No one seemed to care that the Marisco had never seen a pirate, unless you counted the odd city trader on some of the corporate team-building days. She was actually a Victorian sailing trawler, not a galleon, but still a majestic old girl, with her deep red sails and gleaming decks. Ellie had spent many hours down in the tiny galley rustling up hearty grub for hungry sailors and handing out ginger tea to the queasy ones.
Colourful lights were strung from the mast and over the decks, and a skull and crossbones rippled in the breeze. The Marisco was a real magnet for the festival visitors. The boss of the trust and skipper, Drew, had a permanent grin for the queues of people lined up to tour the boat. The marketing team were doing a roaring trade in bookings and gift vouchers. Ellie wondered how some people would feel opening up a present of a sailing experience on a vintage trawler. Christmas surprises, as she knew only too well, could have a mixed reception.
After half an hour, one of her colleagues arrived to take over on the quayside, so Ellie went on board. She was grateful for the change because standing around in the cold wind was making her shiver despite the thermals she had on under her pirate’s outfit.
She headed down to the galley and put a fresh batch of pasties into the oven to warm, before heading back on deck to top up the urns of rum punch and spiced Ribena. She was decanting punch into recyclable cups when she spotted Aaron on the quayside and couldn’t help drooling at the way he carried himself. He had an uprightness and an easy confidence that she assumed came from his army training.
It was hard to focus on her work, knowing she was going to stay over at Cove Cottage that evening, if she wasn’t too knackered – she laughed at herself. No matter how knackered, she was sure she’d find a new energy for him. The past couple of months had felt like being a teenager again. Only better.
At the food stall, the queue was longer than ever. She was grateful someone else was taking the cash while she popped pasties in bags for a family.
A woman in a long red coat reached the front of the queue. ‘Are these pasties gluten-free?’ she asked.
‘Erm, unfortunately not.’
The woman sniffed and flicked her long platinum hair over her shoulder. ‘In that case, I’ll stick to the drinks.’
‘Fruit juice or rum punch?’ Ellie said pleasantly as a silvery hair settled across two of the pasties. Great, they’d have to chuck those now.
The blonde hooted in derision. ‘Rum, of course, I’m not a toddler!’
She moved away and a family group emerged at the front of the queue.
‘Hi there. What can I get y—’
The words dried in Ellie’s throat.
No, it couldn’t be.
But it was and there could be no mistake, not even after almost twenty years. Even though he was older, with more grey than black in his hair, and lines around the cornflower blue eyes, she could never forget that slight but ever-present smile she’d once mistaken for kindness and sincerity. It was and always had been the smile of a man who was quietly but utterly certain that he knew better than everyone else around him.
Julian Mallory.
Julian. The name formed on Ellie’s lips, unspoken. Her stomach clenched like a fist and she was catapulted back twenty years to the day she last saw him. He was the picture of self-assured respectability as he always had been, with his Barbour jacket, expensive watch, and his well-dressed, immaculately coiffed wife holding the hand of a little girl of around
three or four.
‘Two fruit drinks and a rum, please,’ his wife said.
‘I’m driving.’ His smile was both rueful and disarming.
‘Well, I’m not and I need warming up.’ His wife smiled down at the little girl. ‘How about you, Alisa? Are you as cold as Nana is? You’d like some Ribena?’
The little girl gripped her nana’s hand tightly and nodded.
‘OK. Two Ribenas and one of the hard stuff. Grandpa knows his place,’ Julian Mallory said.
Ellie snapped out of her frozen state. ‘Of course.’ She smiled at the little girl, avoiding his eyes. Was Julian pretending he didn’t know who she was, or had he genuinely not recognised her?
‘Any food?’ she asked, addressing herself to his wife. Even if Julian didn’t know Ellie, Ellie recognised Sarah Mallory. She could hardly forget the woman whose husband she’d slept with. The man who had fathered her unborn child – who might have grown into a little girl like Alisa.
They’d patched up their marriage … or more likely it had never been broken in the first place. Not back then or since or ever. The aroma of the food and booze turned from appealing to stomach-churning.
‘No thanks. We’ve already over indulged on the other festival stalls. There was a wonderful wild-foods stall. We tried some of the figgy pudding and bought a book.’
‘Sounds lovely.’ Ellie thought of Scarlett helping Jude out. Scarlett would have served Julian and Sarah in all innocence.
‘How much do we owe you?’ Sarah asked, while Julian beamed beside her.
Ellie snapped back to the present again. ‘Oh, sorry. A fiver, thanks. My colleague will take your money.’
She handed over the steaming cups. ‘Be careful, the fruit drinks are only warm but the rum punch is very hot.’
Sarah handed the fruit drink to her granddaughter and collected the bag of food. Julian picked up the rum and his own drink.
‘Thank you,’ he said, and as Sarah turned away, he exchanged a glance with Ellie, acknowledgement finally flickering in his gaze.
‘Hope it goes well,’ he said.
A Perfect Cornish Christmas Page 19
