Tiff assumed an innocent look but Marina knew there was no halo. ‘I know I said I wouldn’t dig anything up on anyone in Porthmellow, and I haven’t – not on anyone you like anyway. But I did spot an opportunity in the St Austell area recently that was too good to miss.’
‘St Austell? Oh God, what have you been up to?’
‘A tip-off about a councillor who used to be involved in a lifeboat crew until he was asked to leave. I heard via a solicitor who knows him; she’s one of Cream of Cornish’s ad clients … I pursued the story and it turns out he’s been harassing women – including this lawyer. They haven’t wanted to say anything because the councillor’s firm was one of their clients. It’s a tangled web, but she put me in touch with more women he’s alleged to have hassled, and he’s been suspended. I felt duty bound to mention it to a contact in London.’
Marina blew out a breath. ‘Wow. I’ve been at fundraisers with that guy. I thought he was creepy but I’d no idea he was such a shit.’
‘Dirk seemed shocked. He only knew the man slightly but he was disgusted. He said “the bastard deserved everything he got”, and he wished he’d known about it before.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but … he didn’t say anything explicitly, but I think it reminded him what my job is and that in spite of everything, I love doing it – if I’m ever allowed back.’ She paused, letting her eyes rest on the horizon as if, Marina thought, the answers to anything concerning Dirk could be found in the deep blue depths.
‘Which only reinforces the fact that he and I both know I won’t be here forever,’ she resumed. ‘I love Porthmellow and I could – if I let myself and was extremely foolish – fall very hard for Dirk. Despite his reputation, you know yourself that there’s a kind, loving guy under that craggy, moody exterior: a man who wants to trust someone but refuses to ever open up a chink of vulnerability ever again. I even think he rather likes me, and we’re certainly compatible when no words are required.’ Tiff smiled. ‘But as for committing to anything long-term, or letting myself fall any deeper, I can’t let that happen.’
‘Oh, Tiff. This all sounds so bleak.’
‘Not at all. It’s merely self-preservation. I’ll admit when I go back to my wicked ways in London, I’ll miss Porthmellow, I’ll be heartbroken to leave you and I guess it will sting a bit to say goodbye to Dirk …’ She heaved a sigh. ‘But I have to survive, financially and career wise. I can’t imagine settling down here, fixing Dirk’s dinner every night when he comes home from the station, smelling of engine oil and shouting “Hi, honey, I’m home!”’
Marina could hardly reply for giggles at Tiff’s version of an American housewife.
‘That’s rubbish! Dirk would never expect you to do that. It’s like something from the 1950s and, anyway, you can’t cook.’
Tiff nodded. ‘Good point – and, actually, when he smells of anything, it’s either salt water or Creed … anyway, I digress. I can’t see a way for us to be together long-term.’
After that Tiff changed the subject and Marina backed off. Tiff was a grown-up and, after all, she had her own love life to focus on and Nate’s anniversary to get through. Hopefully, the evening at the beach would go some way to helping her put the past behind her for good.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The evening sun broke through the clouds as Marina and Lachlan strolled around the coast path from Porthmellow and down into Seaholly Cove for the Pie on the Beach event. There were around a hundred people booked in, and Sam had told Marina that she’d had to turn more away.
The van was parked at the end of the track right above the cove and Marina could have found her way by the delicious smells emanating from it alone. People had already set up their camping chairs and picnic rugs as the tide was going out and the sun sinking lower in the sky.
Lachlan spread the rug on the sand a little way from the busiest part of the beach and Marina unloaded the plates and cutlery from the picnic set. They joined the queue for the van, where Sam and her assistants were dishing up the pies, accompanied by large helpings of salads.
Marina recognised many of the faces in the queue and on the beach: Scarlett and her boyfriend, Jude Penberth, Gareth and several of the other Wave Watchers. She’d known most of the townspeople for years, but there were some newcomers who would never have met Nate, or perhaps not even known that he had existed at all.
She’d found the day more difficult than she’d expected, rising early to do some work before spending the late morning and afternoon at the lookout station. After her shift, she’d walked down to the cove and spent some time thinking about her husband, shedding a few quiet tears.
The anniversary had been on her mind for a long time and she had been struggling to decide what she was going to do that day. She’d actively tried not to have plans, but to go about her business and maybe spend the evening quietly at home, or visit her parents – perhaps stay overnight and take Tiff with her. In fact, she’d spent the late afternoon with Tiff, as Tiff had insisted on taking her up to the Porthmellow Hotel for tea and they’d chatted together until it was time to meet Lachlan.
Marina was grateful that Lachlan had helped her to make up her mind, but while she was relieved, she still questioned if she should have accepted. Did it matter that she’d be out with him on such a night? Should she feel guilty about it?
Too late now. She hadn’t wanted to burst his bubble once he’d found the courage to ask her out and maybe it was the best thing she could do on such a momentous day: spend an evening with a special friend surrounded by her Porthmellow mates. Of all the nights since Nate had gone, this should be a moment for looking ahead not back.
Now, Marina chatted to friends and fellow Wave Watchers, introducing Lachlan to those who hadn’t met him yet. They chatted with a Scottish colleague from the college who reminisced about the area where Lachlan had been stationed, whilst Marina exchanged hellos with some of her students.
The two of them lounged on their rug on the sand amid the other feasters once they had their food. The pie and salad were delicious, and they washed them down with local beer. Afterwards, they made room for the puds on offer: crunchy pavlovas with mountains of strawberries, or apple pies topped with caramel sauce and clotted cream.
They shared each other’s puddings, and when Drew’s band set up, the atmosphere on the beach started to buzz. The evening was still fine and warm, and the lively music soon had people clapping and singing along.
Eventually the band took a break. Marina stretched her legs while Lachlan popped to the gents and the bar. She revelled in the fuzzy feeling of pleasure that came from being in his company. They’d laughed and chatted all evening, and she was sure he was having a great time too. She was so glad she’d accepted his invitation and not stayed inside on her own, or even gone to see her parents, much as she loved them. Tonight had really ‘taken her out of herself’, as her mum had suggested it would when she’d finally told them her plans. Sometimes, mothers were right …
She was exchanging a few words with Jude and Scarlett when a less welcome face came into view. She’d seen Craig from a distance earlier, but he’d seemed happy enough to spend the evening near to the bar, with his wife and children. Judging by his flushed face, he’d had more than a few and was now making a beeline for her. Marina’s heart sank a little watching him weave his way over, knocking over someone’s wine bottle and crushing a plastic plate on the way.
‘Evenin’, Marina. Surprised to see you here tonight,’ he said, breathing beer fumes at her.
‘Really? Half the town is here.’
‘Wouldn’t have thought you’d want to spend your evening like this.’
Her stomach flipped. ‘Like what, Craig?’
‘Out partying. With your new bloke.’
‘Partying?’ She laughed but grew cold with unease. ‘I’d hardly say this was partying – and anyway, you’re here too.’ The last thing she wanted tonight was a confrontation.
‘Yeah, but I ain’t
the grieving widow.’
Marina bit back an angry retort. ‘Look, Craig. I appreciate that you were Nate’s friend and you’re upset, but you have no right to tell me what I should feel or do. I think you should go back to your family.’
Marina was rattled and upset but she refused to let Craig see that. Craig’s wife was staring at them anxiously, and Marina felt a bit sorry for her.
‘What would Nate think?’
‘I don’t know because, however much I wish he wasn’t gone, he is. He’s not coming home, and we all need to move on.’
‘Well, I can see that’s what you’ve done.’ He curled his lip.
At that moment, Lachlan returned with a couple of beers. ‘Hi there.’
Marina cringed. This altercation was the last thing she wanted to happen when they’d been having such a lovely time.
‘They ran out of Doom Bar, so I got a lager.’
‘Hello, Lachlan,’ said Craig. Even though Lachlan was six feet, Craig was a giant and towered over him. ‘I’m a good mate of Nate’s. That’s Marina’s husband, if you didn’t know.’
Marina was annoyed but tried to sound as pleasant and neutral as possible. ‘Of course Lachlan knows,’ she said. ‘Your Hayley’s waving at you.’
Craig ignored her. ‘Do you know what tonight is?’ he asked. ‘It’s a very special night. A very significant night.’
‘Craig, leave it.’ Marina was trying to shut things down, aware that Lachlan was bristling by her side.
Craig’s eyes flicked from Marina to Lachlan. ‘You haven’t told him, have you?’ he slurred. ‘I guessed as much.’
Her heart sank as Lachlan was stung into a response. ‘Look, pal, I don’t know what you’re getting at here but now’s not the time. Why don’t you go back to your family?’
‘I will, but first I’m going to tell you. Nate went missing seven years ago today. That’s seven years since he drowned trying to make a living for his family.’ He stabbed a finger at Marina. ‘That’s you, Marina, and yet you’re here with another man as if you’d forgotten Nate even existed.’
‘I haven’t forgotten Nate and I never will, but seven years is a long time,’ she snapped, growing angry.
Lachlan cut in, his tone silky. ‘You don’t have to justify yourself to this guy, Marina. I’m sorry for your loss, Craig, and I appreciate you’re still upset, but Marina’s life is none of your business.’
‘Upset?’ Craig laughed but his eyes blazed with rage. ‘You have no fecking idea how I feel, mate.’
Marina was aware that people had started to gawp at them, and she was ready to pack up and leave. She felt sick watching Lachlan and Craig square up against one another. Craig was big, but drunk and unsteady. She knew who’d come off worse if things kicked off.
Luckily, Craig’s wife and kids came to Marina’s side before anything could.
‘Come on, Dad. A seagull might steal your pudding,’ the youngest trilled.
‘You’ll not want that to happen,’ said Lachlan with a smile for the girl.
Hayley Illogan linked her arm through her husband’s, probably to stop him from falling over. ‘Come on, love,’ she said, exchanging a desperate look with Marina.
Craig seemed about to say something but then smiled at his daughter and ruffled her hair. ‘I’d better do as my missus says.’ He shot an accusing look at Marina, but still allowed himself to be shepherded away. His wife glanced over her shoulder, mouthing ‘sorry’.
When they were out of earshot, Marina breathed a huge sigh of relief, although she was still mortified that Craig had caused a scene and dragged Lachlan into it.
‘I’m so sorry. Craig’s obviously worked up about tonight. He’s out of order, though,’ she said trying to defuse the situation. ‘The situation’s not helped by the fact that he likes a drink or ten.’
‘Don’t worry about me … the guy’s upset and he’s clearly had a few too many. Bad combination. I’m more worried about you. Honestly, I had no idea that tonight was the anniversary of Nate’s disappearance or I’d never have put you in this position by asking you out.’
‘You didn’t know it was a …’ She paused, still trying to get her breath back from the encounter with Craig. ‘A landmark day. I could have refused to come out, stayed home and wallowed in misery and self-pity, but I wanted to be here, with you and with my friends, and I’m really glad you asked me.’
‘I’m happy you said yes, but why didn’t you warn me?’
‘Why would I spoil the evening by telling you? When all’s said and done, it’s only a date on the calendar. One more day further on from the worst day of my life. That’s something to be happy about. I loved Nate, but I’d started to rebuild my life a long time before you came to Porthmellow.’
His fingers brushed hers, lingering against her. She knew he wanted to hold her but felt it was wrong to do so in a public place. She was grateful for his discretion and yet filled with sadness too. They shouldn’t feel held back by what people thought – but now wasn’t the right moment. ‘If you’re sure you’re OK.’
The band started their second set and they sat back down on the rug. The music was upbeat, and some people got up to dance on the sand as the sun went down and the sky was ablaze with crimson, orange and purple. Lachlan’s hand was close to hers, but he made no attempt to hold it or slip his arm around her like some of the other couples. Craig’s comments were obviously playing on his mind. They stayed a while longer, but as twilight fell, she shivered. Drew’s band were playing a ballad.
‘Shall we go home after this one?’ Lachlan whispered in her ear.
‘Yes, it’s getting cold and I’d like to walk home over the coast path before it’s too dark to be safe. We don’t want to end up being rescued, do we?’
‘No.’
She realised what she’d said. ‘Oops. Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Smiling, he held out a hand and his warm fingers closed around hers to pull her up from the sand. He held onto her longer than necessary and they exchanged a glance. She longed for more of that contact; it had been so very long since she’d felt that jolt of pleasure and need when a man had touched her.
After packing away, they walked back around the headland, down into the town. Marina was lost in her thoughts of the past and the future.
‘It’s natural to be sad on a day like this. It’s OK to go easy on yourself.’
‘Did you?’ She glanced up. ‘Go easy on yourself, I mean.’
‘Not often enough but I’m learning to. Coming here to Porthmellow has reminded me that you can’t run away from your problems. I have bad days still, but the good times are beginning to outweigh the tough.’
Marina dared to hope that she’d helped with his recovery, even in the short time he’d known her. They passed a fishing boat in the harbour: the one that Nate had crewed with Craig, on and off. Marina could understand why his friend had been upset but that gave him no right to confront her and make her feel guilty about seeing Lachlan. Not that she was seeing him yet, not ‘officially’.
‘I’m glad you’ve made peace with yourself,’ Lachlan said when they reached the lane where their row of cottages was situated.
‘I have. Thanks for talking to me about all this,’ Marina replied.
Lachlan’s eyes glinted in the darkness and his voice was soft. ‘Good friends can talk about anything, I hope.’
‘Yes. They can,’ she said
‘Good night for now. Thank you for this evening.’ He leaned in and kissed her cheek, but it went no further.
She let herself into the cottage, wondering if his interpretation of friends was the same as hers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
June ended with a heatwave, so Tiff had resorted to a floaty dress from one of the local boutiques. She’d almost considered flip-flops but checked herself in time. Instead, she purchased a pair of strappy low-heeled sandals that were cool but smart enough for work.
The car was sizzling every time she got into it after on
e of her client visits and she’d bought a fan for her desk in the eaves of the office. Every time she caught herself longing for the air-conditioned tower that housed the Herald, she glanced out of the window and saw the harbour bustling with masts, and the sea sparkling in the distance.
In the time it used to take to reach the coffee area at the London newspaper office, she could skip outside and buy an ice-cream from the quayside kiosk. Come to think of it … Tiff picked up her bag and trotted out onto the harbourside.
The lure of an ice-cold treat was too much to resist, and she joined the queue at the kiosk. When her turn came, she felt very virtuous when she refused the clotted cream and chocolate flake and took a lick of the vanilla cone. The ice-cream was made at a local farm and, on this red-hot day, it tasted like nectar. Murmuring hello to a couple of people she recognised, Tiff started to walk slowly back to the office, savouring her single scoop.
Suddenly, she felt a rush of wind and wings brushed her face.
She let out a scream as her cone was snatched from her hand by a seagull the size of a pterodactyl. It flew off to a rooftop and swallowed the ice-cream whole, while other birds dived in to pick at the scraps of broken cone at her feet.
‘You little—!’ Tiff shook her fist at the thieving gull but cut off the expletive because the quayside was busy with visitors, several of whom were staring and laughing.
Tiff wasn’t so amused. Her dress was now splattered with melted ice-cream and the sticky mess oozed down her legs and onto her sandals.
A familiar figure jogged up. It was Lachlan.
‘Don’t you dare laugh!’ she warned, seeing the grin on his face.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ He set his mouth in a solemn line and Tiff finally grinned. ‘Sorry about your ice-cream.’
‘I should have been more careful. We don’t have vicious gulls in London. A few vultures, maybe …’
He smiled again. His face, even damaged, was very handsome and he’d caught the sun since he’d been here, which made him look much healthier. Tiff hadn’t spoken to him much herself but she could see why Marina liked him so much. She was also aware of how frustrated her cousin was at the lack of any progress beyond friendship. She’d related some of what had gone on at the Pie on the Beach event over dinner a few nights ago.
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