Tremarnock Summer

by Burstall, Emma

  ‘Cooee!’

  Tabitha’s voice calling through the open door raised her spirits momentarily, until she remembered how close her new friend was to Liz and Lowenna and how the women must have been talking. With faltering steps Bramble made her way to greet the visitor, but as soon as she saw Tabitha’s warm smile and gentle brown eyes she knew that she needn’t have worried.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Tabitha wanted to know as they wandered into the reception room, where the sun was shining brightly through the open French doors. They could hear Fergus banging on the roof, but the hole was now sealed so that they could no longer see daylight. Settling on the sofa, Tabitha explained that the whole of Tremarnock was talking about the rescue and that Matt had become something of a hero.

  Bramble nodded. ‘He was incredibly brave.’

  She wanted so much to tell Tabitha of their final conversation and of Fergus’s imminent departure, but how could she explain the mass of emotions that she was experiencing right now? It seemed easier to focus elsewhere.

  ‘What are the villagers saying about me?’ she asked, lowering her eyes to the floor. ‘Will anyone ever speak to me again?’

  Tabitha seemed surprised. ‘Of course! Everyone knows it was a freak accident; it could have happened to anyone. You did everything you possibly could.’

  Bramble sighed. ‘I shouldn’t have been anywhere near the water with the children—’

  ‘You were paddling, Bramble. There’s no crime against that. We’re just glad you’re safe.’

  Bramble felt somewhat reassured, but still, a bigger question remained unasked.

  ‘How’s Liz?’ she ventured timidly. ‘Has she mentioned me?’

  This time a shadow crossed the other woman’s face.

  ‘She’s very upset,’ Tabitha said gently. ‘It’s natural, after everything she’s been through with Rosie. Seeing Lowenna all wired up to machines in the hospital brought back so many memories. It was like her worst nightmare come true yet again.’

  ‘I wish I could make it up to her,’ Bramble sighed. ‘Should I write to her? Send flowers, a present for Lowenna? What would be the best thing?’

  Tabitha’s pause spoke volumes.

  ‘I think,’ she said slowly, ‘that you shouldn’t do anything at all right now. Liz is the kindest, most understanding person in the world, but this has shaken her up big time. I hate to see her angry and upset and I want you two to be friends, but she’s very raw. You’re just going to have to be patient.’

  Bramble pulled her knees under her chin so that she was scrunched up, like a little ball. Tabitha was trying to be tactful, but it was obvious from what she’d said that Liz was spitting mad, and the knowledge hurt.

  ‘I was hoping to come to your gig next month with Liz, Felipe and Tony,’ she said in a small voice, remembering Liz’s kindness in coming to cheer her up after Katie had left. ‘I don’t suppose she’ll be going now, either.’

  ‘It’s been cancelled anyway. Something to do with a double-booking. I was pretty disappointed, to be honest.’

  Bramble tried to comfort Tabitha by suggesting that there would be other venues, other occasions, but she was unconvinced.

  ‘I’m not sure I’ve got it in me to perform any more. I can’t bear touting myself around; I’m just not pushy enough. You’ve got to be so tough in this business.’

  ‘But you’re so good!’ Bramble said, and then a thought came from nowhere that seemed all of a sudden to be the best idea that she’d ever had.

  ‘We can have the gig here, at the manor! We can ask other bands along, too, if you like?’

  Tabitha frowned. ‘It would be much too much for you. These things take masses of organisation, and anyway, it’s the wrong time of year. It would have to be in the garden and it’ll be winter soon.’

  ‘We’ll hire a big tent,’ Bramble persisted, refusing to be deterred. ‘And I don’t mind using bits of the manor, too. It’s not as if there’s anything very valuable here.’

  Some of the profits could be donated to the air ambulance or lifeboat people, she went on, or the hospital – or maybe all three.

  ‘It’ll be my way of saying thank you for helping me. We might attract more visitors if it’s in aid of charity, too.’

  ‘But we’d need money to get the ball rolling and neither of us have got any,’ Tabitha pointed out. ‘Concerts cost thousands to put on. There’s lighting, security, sound systems, not to mention portable loos, waiters and waitresses to serve drinks and so on. I doubt there’d be any cash left to donate after all that. In fact, we’d be lucky if we even managed to cover costs.’

  But Bramble hardly heard her. ‘We’ll get sponsors. I’m sure local firms will want to be involved.’ She looked at her friend seriously. ‘I realise it’s a big undertaking, but I don’t feel like I’ve done anything worthwhile since I arrived here. I’ve just made one mistake after another. Polgarry needs to be opened up to the public; I’m sure it’s what my grandfather would have wanted. People should be able to see and enjoy it, and I’d like to help you, too.’

  She could tell that the other woman was tempted but was probably worried that it might be disloyal to Liz to say yes.

  ‘I’m not sure—’ she started to say, but Bramble interrupted.

  ‘I know Liz won’t want to come, but I imagine she’ll be happy if you raise money for the services that helped save Lowenna? We’ll have a meeting about it on Monday,’ she continued, ‘just you and me, and get some initial ideas together. I’ll do a bit of research beforehand, and maybe you can think of people who might want to help and bands to approach. I think we should keep it local, but we want the best Cornwall has to offer. With enough notice, I’m sure lots of musicians will want to take part.’

  At last Tabitha rose, explaining that she had to collect Oscar from his friend’s, but there was a spring in her step as she exited the manor and climbed into her old red Fiesta.

  ‘See you soon,’ she shouted as she slammed the door. ‘I’m quite coming round to the idea, you know. This could be a Good Thing!’

  Bramble was in her own little world as she walked slowly back into the manor, oblivious to the sights, smells and sounds around her. She was thinking how weird it was that just when she was at her most unhappy, she’d come up with the idea of putting on a big event. Was she mad? Perhaps. But on the other hand, this could be a fantastic way of giving something back to the community, and perhaps of showing her remorse to some of those she’d injured, too. It would also breathe new life into the old manor, and deep down she was convinced that this was what Lord Penrose would have wished for.

  Not a soul would guess that this would be her swansong, her final goodbye to Polgarry and the Cornish life that she’d envisaged for herself. Somehow or other she’d cobble together enough money to put on a fantastic, memorable event that she hoped people would talk about for months to come. After that, the old place would have to go on the market and wait for someone with more funds and vision than her to take it on. This was her decision; the answer had come.

  ‘Bramble, love?’ Cassie called from the kitchen. ‘Is that you?’

  Bramble woke from her daydream. Goodness knew how long she’d been standing in the hallway.

  ‘Come and taste this pastry. I did it with Maria. It’s as light as a feather!’

  Bramble smiled. At this rate the housekeeper would be spending weekends with them in Chessington, visiting local garden centres with Cassie and getting to know the neighbours. Perhaps she’d even quit Cornwall herself and move in with them. You never knew. After all, stranger things had happened since Bramble had first set foot in Polgarry Manor.

  22

  AUTUMN BROUGHT THE morning valley mists rolling across the fields and hillsides and turned the trees around Tremarnock to red, orange and gold. The temperature was still warmer than elsewhere in England, but as the mercury slowly dipped, the woolly sweaters and fleeces started to come out and only the hardiest souls still ventured into the sea to swim, Rick Ka
ne among them.

  Thankfully, the long, hot summer seemed to have finally cured him of his chronic lovesickness and he no longer looked like a mournful basset hound whenever the name ‘Esme’ was uttered in his presence. Indeed, having finally returned to online dating after a break of several months, he was now stepping out with a red-blooded widow from Liskeard who favoured high heels and revealing tops and seemed eminently more suitable. The villages were pleased to see a smile back on Rick’s whiskery face, and Esme was greatly relieved, too, as she could now stand beside him without fear of his wandering hands. All in all, things had worked out rather well.

  Rafael had settled in at his new school, and Tim, perhaps envious of Rosie’s handsome new friend, seemed to have rather lost interest in Amelia and had begun sending frequent messages to Rosie again on social media. While not averse to the attention, she felt that she’d moved on over the holidays and now preferred spending time in bigger groups rather than hanging out with one person. As a result, the messages frequently went unanswered.

  Lowenna was fit again and seemed remarkably unscathed by her ordeal. The only significant repercussion was that she now refused to go anywhere near the sea, which didn’t matter so much with winter coming on; but Liz and Robert hoped that her fear, though understandable, would pass in time. Doctors had suggested taking her to the swimming pool at first to get her used to the water again and Liz had resolved to sign her up for toddler classes in January.

  Tabitha and Danny were making plans to move in together and had already looked at several properties in Tremarnock; Audrey had largely healed her rift with Tony, Felipe and Rafael after booking a holiday in Portugal and realising that it would be foolish not to tap the Brazilians for free language lessons; and Ryan had rallied after Katie’s departure and found himself a nice girlfriend from Plymouth.

  Meanwhile, since Cassie and Bill had returned to London Bramble had been so busy mugging up on how to organise a music festival in an extremely short space of time that she’d hardly left the grounds of Polgarry. In other circumstances she might have found this frustrating, but as it was the self-imposed confinement had suited her just fine as it meant that there’d been no opportunity to bump into Liz. Keeping busy meant less time to reflect on Matt, too.

  Fergus had finished the roof, and as far as Bramble could tell he’d done an excellent job that should last for several years. She was eternally grateful. He’d also broken the news to Wilf that they’d be emigrating to Spain as soon as he’d found the right accommodation. Some time later, the boy had escaped from under his father’s watchful eye and raced across the fields to tell Bramble. He’d been very upset, saying that he didn’t want to go, that he hated Spain – though he’d never actually been – and that he’d run away and live with Bramble instead. Though she was heartbroken, she’d done her best to cheer him up and persuade him that, contrary to his beliefs, moving would be a marvellous adventure.

  ‘You can come back in the holidays and impress me with your Spanish. You’ll have fantastic weather there and make lots of new friends. I’ll be jealous!’

  ‘You can come, too!’ Wilf had said hopefully, and she’d laughed.

  ‘Who’d look after the manor and eat up Maria’s delicious jam tarts? And someone’s got to be here to stop the garden turning into a jungle.’

  Tabitha had told Liz about the concert, of course, and Liz had agreed, for her friend’s sake, that it was a good idea, but had vowed not to get involved herself in any way. Although this had saddened Tabitha, who knew that in other circumstances Liz would have loved to throw her weight behind the project, it had at least meant that she herself could spend time at Polgarry without feeling guilty or having to conceal what she was doing.

  She and Bramble had already made enormous strides. Tony, who loved a party, had suggested using crowdfunding, a new method of raising many small amounts of money from a large number of people via the Internet, and had shown them how to set up a web page announcing details of the festival. Clearly, there was an appetite for watching bands in muddy fields, because to their delight within three weeks they’d raised twenty thousand pounds from more than two hundred supporters, which was enough to get started, and the money was still rolling in. In return for their cash, donors had been promised tickets and sponsorship opportunities.

  The villagers, excited by the prospect of a rip-roaring night out, had also begun to feel they had an investment in the event, and many had offered their services either at a reduced price or for free. Felipe was helping with the artwork for posters, promotional leaflets, mail drops and so on, while Jenny and John Lambert, among others, had promised to man the gates, with Rick, Audrey, Jean, Tom and whoever else they could muster.

  ‘I don’t suppose I shall like the music much,’ Audrey had sniffed when Jenny had approached her with the plan, ‘but I’m happy to support Tabitha, and it’s nice to think of Polgarry being open to the public after all these years.’

  Meanwhile, Ryan and Nathan, the postman, had taken on car park duties and persuaded a group of their friends to act as security guards, and Barbara, an arch organiser, had offered to run the main bar, complete with local craft beers and cider, and also to coordinate food, which would be provided by a selection of local eateries, including Tremarnock’s famous fish and chip shop and the nearby pizza place on the beach.

  Of course, much advice had to be sought, equipment secured and licences bought, all of which was complicated and took a great deal of time, but no one seemed to mind. Tremarnock had never done anything quite like this before and there was a real will to muck in and make it a success.

  The only gaping absences were Liz and Robert, who, out of loyalty to his wife, had agreed not to become involved either. It was quite awkward for them both, as locals seemed to talk of little else, and of course Robert’s staff, including Jesse and Loveday, had been unable to resist participating in the plans, although so far they’d been tactful enough not to mention them in front of the boss.

  Bramble had spoken on the phone many times to Katie, who’d often promised to visit without ever actually getting round to it, but now that the date of the concert – 3 December – was fixed firmly in the diary, she’d finally taken the plunge and booked her train ticket.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re doing this, Bram!’ she said admiringly one evening. ‘Who’d have thought it? How many did you say are going?’

  ‘About a thousand,’ Bramble replied, feeling slightly sick, for she couldn’t quite believe it either.

  ‘Wow! And it’s so soon – only three weeks away!’

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ Bramble groaned.

  They discussed potential outfits for a while, and Katie said that she’d be wearing her new pink woollen hat with the rabbit-fur pom-pom.

  ‘I won’t get attacked by animal rights people, will I?’

  ‘Foxes more like,’ Bramble joked. ‘And maybe the odd badger or stoat.’

  Katie’s next comment caught her right off guard.

  ‘I met Matt for a drink last night.’

  ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘He seems well.’

  ‘Good.’ Bramble didn’t want to sound too interested.

  ‘He’s started seeing someone – a girl from work.’

  ‘What?’ She gathered herself quickly. ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘She’s called Lois. Works at reception. Did you ever meet her?’

  A vision of the girl danced before Bramble’s eyes. She was all boobs and blonde hair, as far as she could remember.

  ‘I’m pleased for him,’ she lied.

  When they hung up, she found herself googling Lois’s photo on the gym’s website before reminding herself that she had no right. Matt wasn’t part of her life any more, and what’s more, he deserved all the happiness he could find, though she was a bit surprised that he’d gone for someone quite so obvious.

  The festival, originally planned for the evening, was now to start in the afternoon and feature an eclectic mix of music including f
olk, funk, reggae, jazz and pop. Esme had suggested erecting a separate covered stage for drama, art, poetry and comedy performances, but Bramble had felt that would be too much. She had, however, agreed to a ‘pottery tent’ where Esme and her friends would give demonstrations, charging a small fee for people to make their own creations, which could be collected from their studio, fired and ready, at a later date.

  Tremarnock Art Club would also run a stall, where children could try their hands at still-life painting, and Nathan’s girlfriend, Annie, had offered to lay on yoga classes. In return for advertising, a local hire firm was to lend an indoor bouncy castle, a baby gym and, for the slightly older children, a giant ball pond and slide. Bramble intended to put them in the main reception area and the television room, having decided to keep the upstairs out of bounds.

  As word spread, she’d sensed the excitement in the air, even from high up on her solitary estate. Chaps from local delivery firms who were dropping off equipment would tell her about the chatter in pubs and the posters in shop windows and on lampposts all around the area, so that she could be in no doubt that this was happening. Tony, too, had organised interviews for her with local TV and radio stations, which Bramble had reluctantly accepted, knowing that they needed all the publicity they could get, and she was aware of the interest the interviews had generated.

  Reporters, who’d come to the manor with their sound people and camera crews, had jumped on the story of the ordinary young woman from London who’d inherited a mansion, nearly drowned at sea and was now raising funds for the charities that had helped save her. She’d tried her best to downplay her role in organising the event, highlighting all the hard work that the villagers were putting in, but still her story had seemed to capture the public imagination and tickets were selling like hot cakes.

  One afternoon in mid-November, when the sky was grey and the wind rattled through the gaps in the manor windows, she was sitting on the floor with her back to the ancient radiator in the drawing room, trying to keep warm and going through the concert programme for the umpteenth time, looking for gaps or omissions. Tabitha had just left to collect Oscar from school, and Bramble was contemplating yet another evening on her own with just the TV for company. She was growing used to it now; she had no money to spend in the Tremarnock pubs, and anyway, she was frightened of seeing Liz.