Trenouth

by Bea Green

  Leo sank his head briefly into his large, gnarled hands, combing his fingers through his shaggy grey hair. When he raised it again his expression was troubled, digging a groove between his thick grey eyebrows.

  Elinor opened the front door and trod thankfully into the familiar comfort of the entrance, switching on the lights as she did so.

  ‘Hold on a minute! Here they come,’ said Leo excitedly from the doorstep.

  Elinor poked her head out of the door and followed his pointed finger.

  Sure enough all six men, with their torches waving about madly, were climbing over the Cornish hedge just like Leo himself had done not so long ago, after his initial exploration of the wheat field.

  The men jumped agilely down onto the road and quickly let themselves into the back of the van.

  Two minutes later the van drove up the road and turned the corner, disappearing into the darkness with its red taillights fading away gradually like the dying embers of a fire, and leaving Leo and Elinor to the stillness of the night again.

  41

  Two days later, Elinor had reason to forget all about the mysterious white van and the men in the wheat field as her stay in Cornwall came under imminent threat.

  It all came from what seemed to be an innocuous comment from Leo but Elinor knew her strong-willed mother only too well. As soon as Elinor heard his words, she knew that her kind but overbearing mother was already in the process of moving heaven and earth to bring her back to Scotland again.

  ‘Elinor, your mother’s been asking me when you’re going to go back home to Glasgow.’

  Elinor quickly put her knife and fork down. At those words a sinking sensation started to pool at the base of her stomach.

  She and Leo had been enjoying a rare breakfast together. Usually Leo was up a good few hours before Elinor so their paths didn’t cross at the breakfast table, but on Sundays, by mutual agreement, the two of them decided to sit down to a cooked breakfast.

  For Leo this meant kippers and for Elinor a more refined combination of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. But this morning, after hearing Leo’s words, Elinor felt her appetite vanish into thin air.

  Her mind started to race into overdrive.

  Was Leo getting tired of having her to stay? Was this his polite way of telling her to move on? Or was her mother about to ruin the happiest period of her life since Mark had died?

  Leo continued to munch his breakfast slowly and steadily, his movements calm and unhurried.

  ‘Leo, have I overstayed my welcome?’ asked Elinor eventually, in a small voice.

  Leo smiled humorously as he chewed his kippers.

  ‘Whatever gave you that crazy notion? It’s been an absolute pleasure having you to stay here. But you’re only twenty-eight, Elinor. A young lady. You’ve your whole life before you. I’m not sure being cooped up here in the Cornish countryside, with your seventy-year-old uncle, is a healthy thing for a young lady like you.’

  Elinor felt a knot form in the middle of her throat. Tears began to slide down her cheeks unheeded. How could she explain to Leo that Trenouth felt like home to her now?

  ‘Why didn’t Mum mention this to me? Why is she trying to get you to pressure me to leave?’

  Leo looked a little uncomfortable.

  ‘She knows you’ve made huge strides in dealing with your anxiety since you’ve been here. I think she feels you now need to pick up the threads of your life once more and return to the old life you had before everything fell apart. And I suspect she was also worried you might react badly to that suggestion.’

  ‘Too right! Of course I would react against it. I’m happy for the first time in ages and she has to try and wreck it all for me?’

  ‘That’s enough of the over-dramatic talk, Elinor. You need to learn to speak of your mother with some respect. You know she only has your best interests at heart,’ growled Leo, with a note of warning in his voice.

  ‘If she had my best interests at heart she wouldn’t be forcing me to leave.’

  ‘You’re a grown adult. No one has the power to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. As long as it’s legal, of course,’ countered Leo placidly.

  Elinor wiped her eyes with a napkin and drank some tea, her mutinous emotions swirling around inside of her. She felt like breaking something to release some of the anger boiling within.

  ‘All I’m going to say is that you should think about the life you left behind. And start thinking about what you want to do with yourself in the future,’ said Leo convincingly. ‘You shouldn’t just let things drift and life pass you by.’

  ‘Leo, you want to know what I think? I think Trenouth feels like home to me now, not Glasgow. Surfing’s given me a sense of purpose and a release from my anxiety. How am I possibly going to be able to carry on surfing if I go back to living in the West End of Glasgow?’

  Elinor let out an angry sob.

  ‘And Barbara’s helping me return to my painting again. How can any of this be a bad thing? Everything that makes my life worth living is here now. And you can tell my mother I’m still healing and recovering. I don’t understand how Mum thinks a few months is enough time for me to suddenly go back to where I was before my anxiety kicked in.’

  Leo nodded in agreement.

  ‘And on top of everything else,’ added Elinor aggrievedly, ‘Mum’s been supporting me financially up until now. So she can pull the strings at any point in time and so yes, she can force me to come home if that’s what she really wants me to do.’

  ‘Hold on just a minute there, young lady. You should be grateful to your mother for supporting you. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have such a supportive family. And as far as being beholden to her goes, you’re going down that road far too fast if you ask me. You sold a bloody expensive painting at that exhibition the other night. That should keep you going for a while...’

  Leo pondered the problem for a moment.

  ‘And there’s no reason why you can’t restart your art career,’ he added confidently. ‘Plus, don’t forget your Frankenstein book. That alone could potentially earn you quite a bit.’

  Elinor smiled tremulously for the first time since the conversation had been broached. Her uncle was one of the most independent people she’d ever met and he was always going to be able to find a way to avoid Elinor being beholden to anyone, even if it was her own mother.

  ‘It still wouldn’t earn me enough to be able to find a place to live here on a clifftop near you, Leo. And that’s all I want to do at the moment, if you can put up with me. I’m not ready to move back to Scotland now, if ever.’

  ‘That’s fine by me. As long as you’ve thought things through properly, I’m happy with your decision. Your mother will no doubt have a few choice words to give me on that subject but she’ll come round in the end.’

  They both returned to eating their breakfast with renewed vigour, relieved to have things finally settled between them. Silence reigned peaceably for the next five minutes.

  Once Leo had finished his kippers, he pushed his plate away and poured himself a cup of black coffee.

  ‘On quite another topic, I’ve been thinking of visiting an old school friend who lives in London. He has a smart flat in Baker Street.’ Leo lifted his blue mug and took a swig of coffee. ‘The visit’s been long overdue and I also considered that while I was staying there I could arrange to take your book to the British Museum. If that’s OK with you.’

  ‘Yes, absolutely. It’ll probably take a good few months to get to auction so the sooner the better, I guess.’

  Leo looked across at his precious bookcase. He’d placed Elinor’s book in amongst his prized collection of seafaring books.

  ‘I don’t even know if the book will end up at auction,’ he remarked. ‘I’ve no idea how these things work. There’s a chance, I guess, that the British Museum or the British Library mig
ht want to purchase it for their collection. I have to say, I’m not entirely comfortable with keeping a rare and valuable book sitting inside my bookcase. Although in all the years I’ve lived here I’ve never had anyone try to break into the house.’

  He swallowed some more coffee.

  ‘I take it you’re OK with me selling the book for you?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I only bought it on a stupid whim in the first place because I liked the poetical lines written at the front of the book. Now I know those lines were by William Blake I can just buy a book of Blake’s poetry.’

  Elinor drank a sip of tea and made a face. Her tea was now tepid. She hastily put her mug down again.

  ‘When were you thinking of going up to London?’ asked Elinor apprehensively, not enamoured by the thought of living in Trenouth without Leo around. He was as much a part of the house as the foundation was.

  She wasn’t sure she’d be comfortable staying in Trenouth on her own. It was, after all, a very isolated and exposed spot during the winter and early spring.

  ‘I was thinking of going this Wednesday and coming back on Sunday. Are you going to be all right on your own? Because I’m sure Barbara would be delighted to have you stay with her.’

  ‘I know. She would happily have me stay,’ agreed Elinor. ‘It’ll be fine, Leo. I’ll work it out. As you said, I’m old enough now to deal with myself.’

  Leo looked doubtful, as though he wasn’t sure Elinor was in a good enough shape as yet to be able to make any sensible decisions.

  Elinor patted his arm reassuringly.

  ‘Honestly, Leo, I’ll be fine. The days will fly by and before I realise the time’s gone, you’ll be back here again.’

  42

  ‘There you go, José and Elena. It’s all finished now,’ said Elinor, having dragged the couple away from the kitchen to look at the finished mural.

  Elena clapped her hands together gleefully. José studied the mural cautiously but finally smiled in what Elinor could only take as approval for her work.

  ‘I love it, Elinor. Really. It’s muy bello. We must have a celebration night for this, do you not think?’ asked Elena.

  Elinor nodded her agreement.

  A lot of work had been done over the course of the last two and a half weeks. Leo’s friends had thrown themselves into the renovation project with wholehearted zeal and the finished result was impressive.

  Four large hanging lights in stylish wickerwork lampshades had replaced the ceiling lights. A new cherry wood floor had been put in overnight so as not to disturb any daytime trade. Comfortable fabric chairs in various shades from cream to mocha to chocolate brown were grouped around circular tables and in the far corner, right next to the mural, there were three groupings of coffee tables with two-seater sofas for those who wanted to sit for an informal drink or snack.

  The exterior had been covered with trellises and the fast-growing New Zealand broadleaf planted at regular intervals around the building. The door had been painted a pale shade of green and above the flat roof a large triangular sign, fully visible from the golf course, had been placed, with the restaurant’s new name, ‘The Ninth Hole’, painted on it in a tasteful script.

  Elinor was sure some golfers were bound to complain about the now overtly visible sign but as far as she could make out José and Elinor, as owners of the commercial building, were perfectly entitled to put up a sign on its flat roof.

  It was still early days and there had been no clear change to the amount of custom José and Elena received so maybe an opening night wasn’t such a bad idea, thought Elinor. A little publicity never did any business harm.

  Elena and Elinor by mutual consent sat down together to weave some kind of a plan for the party night, looking at dates while José made a sharp exit back to the kitchen. At the start of the morning they’d pencilled in 23rd February as the big date, with Elinor agreeing to design the invitation cards. Elena assured Elinor that she and José would take care of the food and drink supplies.

  Elinor decided she would ask Leo if he had any golfing pals who were members of Trevose Golf Club. It would be great if they could entice a few golfers along to try out the newly decorated venue. If she knew anything about the golfing community, it was that word of a new watering hole with tasty food would spread like wildfire. Golfing wasn’t a team sport but it certainly was a sociable one.

  Elinor made her way home, strolling along the edge of Constantine Bay to have a look at the surfers who were out in force by now. It was mid-morning and the offshore wind was strong, which in turn had encouraged a large number of surfers to turn out. She wondered if Tony would be out there but she doubted it. He seemed to prefer to turn up early when the water was quieter.

  For the last two weeks Elinor hadn’t received an invitation from Tony to join him surfing or, in actual fact, any text at all. She’d texted him once or twice but there had been absolutely zero response. Complete silence reigned in their communication with each other. A stand-off of sorts...

  She looked out to sea, watching the waves as the wind tugged brusquely at her ponytail and gently prodded her back. She felt like the wind itself was trying to encourage her to move into the sea, buffeting her forward as though to say, ‘You should be out there.’

  Elinor was in no hurry to return home to an empty house. Leo had been gone for two nights already and the house felt lonesome without him. She couldn’t have felt more alone if she’d been stranded in the middle of the Sahara Desert, as ludicrous as that sounded.

  She didn’t know why she hadn’t approached Barbara, and decided it was probably her pride that was at fault. She felt that she would be behaving like a small child who was scared of the dark if she called Barbara begging for companionship. After all, Barbara was used to living on her own so how could she empathise with Elinor’s riotous fears?

  But she also knew she was sometimes too hard on herself and that her ever-present anxiety made things trebly difficult.

  She was currently exhausted from lack of sleep. In her solitary state, she’d woken up several times during the night with her heart beating madly in panic, imagining the worst with every single creak and crack, as the old house stretched and shrank its limbs with the changing weather and its erratic heating system.

  It felt like the next two and a half days until Leo arrived back were going to drag.

  She looked at the surfers enviously. It felt like such a long time since she’d been out there, gliding manically on the waves like they were doing now. Glancing at her watch she saw it was nearly eleven o’clock. Perfect for a pre-lunch venture out into the waves...

  She started to walk purposefully back to Trenouth.

  43

  ‘Elinor, don’t you think the weather’s too wild for you to go surfing today?’ asked Jennifer bluntly, as she stood in the shallows with her wet blonde hair streaming down her back and her surfboard tucked under one arm.

  ‘No. I’ll be fine,’ said Elinor firmly, holding her surfboard defensively in front of her as she prepared to enter the ocean.

  Elinor stared aggressively into Jennifer’s clear blue eyes but Jennifer was a tough cookie and wasn’t afraid of a challenge. She reached out a hand and held on to Elinor’s surfboard, much to Elinor’s annoyance.

  ‘I really don’t advise you to go out to the surf zone. I’m telling you the waves are too strong for you.’

  ‘Look, Jennifer, I appreciate the friendly advice but I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Elinor! I’m telling you as an experienced surfer that you won’t manage the waves today. The others would agree with me on this one. Tony would’ve warned you too if he’d seen you.’

  This was the final straw for Elinor.

  ‘He would, would he? Well, Tony’s not here now and nobody else is paying the slightest bit of attention, so why don’t you just let me get on with it? With due respect, you’re not my mother, you
know.’

  To Elinor’s satisfaction Jennifer flinched at this.

  Elinor had no idea what had come over her but she felt the pent-up emotion of the last few weeks bursting out of her. Her two sleepless nights were playing havoc with her reason. What on earth was she doing picking a fight with Jennifer, of all people?

  Jennifer reluctantly removed her hand from Elinor’s surfboard.

  ‘Fine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ she said quietly, making Elinor feel incredibly guilty and foolish in the process.

  Jennifer then walked majestically out of the water and onto the sandy beach, heading towards the car park. Elinor watched her leave, feeling wretched. She’d have to apologise profusely to her later.

  She turned back to the ocean, putting her regrets to the back of her mind. She felt the adrenaline and excitement build up in her as she felt the fresh sea spray hit her face. The roar of the waves seemed to her to be beating on a war drum inside her head, challenging her to get back out into the ocean and fight.

  The red lifeguard flags were positioned to the left hand side of the beach so Elinor moved towards the right. She stood for a while, watching the sea, trying to gauge the waves and the wind.

  She immediately spotted the rip current, which today was a wide channel of dark, choppy water beating a path straight out to the surf zone. Mick had taught them well.

  The waves were the largest she’d seen yet and they were thundering at an incredibly fast pace towards the sandy beach. How on earth was she going to be able to paddle fast enough to keep up with them?

  Jennifer had a point warning her, but then again the lifeguards were on duty today so how bad could it really be?

  Elinor started to wade into the water and then carefully, so she didn’t get in the way of any of the surfers twisting and turning ably on the incoming waves, she began to duck dive under the waves as she made her way out to the surf zone.

  Conditions that day were very different to what she was used to. For a start, her arms had to work a lot harder to pull her through the tormented sea and when she duck dived she struggled to make any leeway against the surprisingly strong pull of the waves drawing her backwards, each one of them striving viciously to carry her shoreward.