by Kate Field
It sounded like a brilliant idea to Mim. If they could find a team of volunteers who wouldn’t need paying, that would leave more money for the people who needed it.
‘I’ll have to check with Bea and Bill,’ she said, ‘as it’s their land, but it sounds perfect to me. There’s something else you could help with,’ she added to Heather. ‘You said your cousin had been on a holiday like this before. Do you think she’d come here, when one of the caravans is ready, to test out what it’s like? It could be a dummy run before real members of the public arrive.’
‘I’m sure she’d love to. It will need to be in the school holidays, though. When are you hoping to have your first visitors?’
‘There isn’t a fixed date. It will depend on how long it takes to set up a charity, but it would be a shame if we weren’t ready for summer.’
‘You should aim for May half-term,’ Karen said. ‘So that would mean the trial would have to be at Easter.’
‘Easter?’ Mim repeated. ‘That’s early April this year, isn’t it? We won’t be ready by then.’
‘Why not?’ Karen smiled. ‘It gives us at least eight weeks. How long do you need?’
Chapter Ten
Corin turned up at the pub on Sunday night, on his own this time. He approached Mim at the bar and ordered a pint for himself and a half for her.
‘If only you had a mobile phone, I could have sent you a message instead of coming here,’ he said, handing over his money. ‘It would be better for my wallet and my liver.’
‘You could always have come into the shop. You could have spoken to me for the price of a penny chew there.’ Mim grinned. ‘Is something the matter? Is it about the caravans?’
‘No, it’s about the fossil walk. I’m running a guided walk tomorrow and wondered if you’d still like to come.’
‘What time? I’ll be swimming in the morning.’
‘I need to leave at ten thirty. Will that suit you?’
‘Go on then. I’ll miss out on the after-swimming cakes just this once. I have to know whether this walk is as deadly dull as Lia says.’
Corin laughed.
‘I’ll pick you up in the morning.’ He waved at a middle-aged couple who had just entered the pub and started towards them.
‘Hang on,’ Mim called. ‘Do I need to bring anything?’
‘Curiosity and an open mind,’ Corin said. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Mim was ready and waiting the next morning when Corin pulled up in front of her caravan just before ten thirty. He was driving a 4x4, but a considerably older and scruffier one than the car that had let down Bill and Bea on the day Mim had first met them in Lancashire. Was that only a few weeks ago? It seemed much longer.
‘I’m glad to see you’re so keen,’ Corin said, when Mim entered the car before he had the chance to switch off the engine. She didn’t want to risk him coming into the caravan this time, as her knickers were drying over the kitchen sink. ‘I brought you these.’
He waited until Mim had fastened her seatbelt then handed her a white cardboard box. There were four cakes inside: an iced finger smothered in yellow icing, a chocolate éclair, a doughnut oozing jam, and a scone sandwiched with jam and cream.
‘I didn’t know what you’d like, so I brought a selection,’ he said.
‘I like everything. Are these all for me?’
‘Yes. I didn’t want you to miss out on your after-swim cakes.’
‘No offence to Heather and Karen, but the cakes we have don’t come close to these. Thanks.’
Mim picked up the iced finger first and gave a soft moan of pleasure when she bit into it and discovered a delicious seam of lemon curd running through the centre.
‘Good?’ Corin asked. Mim nodded as she took another bite and he smiled.
There wasn’t much conversation on the journey as Mim was busy eating – although she stopped at two cakes, deciding to save the scone and the doughnut for lunch. She was also engrossed in staring out of the window. They were travelling in a different direction than she’d taken when driving Bea to Exeter, and she was enjoying stretching the edges of her world. There was so much more time to observe as a passenger and she studied the villages that straddled each side of the main road, and the hills that rose and fell away on Corin’s side, revealing snatched glimpses of the sea. She also noticed several caravan parks, filled with rows of mobiles homes facing out to sea.
‘I didn’t realise there were so many holiday parks here,’ she said, gesturing towards another. ‘We’re not going to stir up trouble with the owners by offering free holidays at Vennhallow, are we?’
‘Unlikely. It’s a popular area – and can you wonder, with a view like that? Mum and Dad meant well, but their six caravans in a field with no sea view were never going to compete with the likes of these places.’
‘Didn’t you tell them that, before they dug up a field and spent their money?’ Mim asked. ‘There’s no benefit in being wise after the event.’
‘I wasn’t here. It was too late to stop it by the time I heard about the plan.’
Too busy living the high life in London, Mim guessed. Wasn’t that what posh people did? Hang about fancy restaurants and exclusive nightclubs? Attend society weddings and lavish parties? She’d seen it often enough in the tabloid newspapers and magazines they’d received in the hotel. Although it was hard to imagine the Corin sitting next to her in that environment, with his well-worn hiking boots and fleece. Sometimes she almost made the mistake of thinking that he was just an ordinary person like her.
Eventually they drove down a winding lane and turned into a car park overlooking the beach. A visitor centre, café, and toilet block fringed one side of the car park, and on the other side sat a row of picnic benches on a grassy ledge. Corin reversed into a space in front of the picnic benches.
‘Tea?’ he asked. Without waiting for a reply, he set off across the car park to the café and soon returned with two polystyrene cups. He offered one to Mim.
‘How much is it?’ she asked. ‘I’ll pay for my own.’
‘It was free.’ He smiled when she pulled a sceptical face. ‘Scout’s honour. I promise I haven’t done anything so ungenerous as buy you a plastic cup of weak tea.’
She wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not but she wanted the tea so she took the cup he was offering. Corin went round to the back of the car and opened the boot. It was full of plastic boxes. The largest contained a pile of clipboards but there were lots of smaller boxes with lids whose contents Mim couldn’t see. There was also a first aid kit – an alarming sight – and a couple of ring binders. Corin picked up a utility belt and fastened it round his waist.
‘What’s that for?’ Mim asked, pointing at a hammer dangling off his belt. ‘I thought we were here for fossils, not DIY.’
‘Stop trying to jump ahead. You’ll find out soon enough.’ He uncovered a couple of folding chairs. ‘Would you mind setting these up at the end of the table?’
It must have been a secret signal; as soon as Mim opened the chairs, a middle-aged couple sensibly dressed in boots and matching anoraks approached.
‘Is this the fossil talk?’ the woman asked. She looked at Corin and his car with a doubtful expression, as if she’d expected an altogether less scruffy business. ‘Corin Howard?’
‘That’s right. I’m Corin. How lovely to meet you.’ He held out his hand and the woman shook it, all reservations apparently swept away by a posh accent and a charming smile. She could hardly have looked more dazzled if he’d kissed her. Mim said hello and no one even seemed to notice.
Over the next ten minutes, more customers drifted over and took seats either at the picnic bench or on the folding chairs, until they were a group of nine in total. Corin asked them all to sign a disclaimer, which alarmed Mim as much as the first aid kit. How dangerous could fossil hunting be? More dangerous than she had expected, if Corin’s safety talk was anything to go by. Apart from the inevitable risks of walking on an unstable and potentially slippery
beach, he showed them photographs of recent rockfalls in the area and warned them not to go too close to the foot of the cliffs. Mim made a mental note to stay close to Corin. Better to be bored than crushed to death…
After the safety talk, Corin handed everyone a clipboard and sheet of paper to make notes while he gave a brief introduction to fossils and how to recognise them. He passed round a small plastic box and invited everyone to take out one item to study. Mim picked out a dark grey item in a spiral shape. It was beautiful but she had no idea what it was.
‘These are ammonites,’ Corin said. ‘One of the most common fossils you’ll find. Now, you need to train your eyes to find them. How would you describe them?’
‘Dark-coloured,’ someone suggested.
‘Round?’ called another. Mim ran her finger over the object in her hand.
‘There are ridges around the spiral,’ she said.
‘Perfect,’ Corin said, smiling at her. Mim felt as if she’d come top of the class. ‘Remember those things as you walk along the beach. Look out for something dark and round with ridges.’
Everyone around the table obediently wrote a note and Corin passed round his next sample, which was a belemnite, a bullet-shaped fossil that he explained was part of the skeleton of a squid-like creature. He also showed them a piece of fossilised wood and an ichthyosaur vertebra, before ending with a lumpy black object.
‘Who can guess what this might be?’ he asked. Mim wracked her brains but it only looked like one thing to her and she didn’t want to appear stupid by saying it.
‘Children are usually better at guessing this one,’ Corin said, after a few incorrect guesses. ‘Can you imagine the reaction when I explain that this is coprolite – also known as dinosaur poo?’
Everyone laughed and Mim kicked herself for not saying that in the first place. Corin spoke for about forty-five minutes, but the time flew by. How could Lia say this was boring? Mim wished that she’d had a teacher like him at school: someone enthusiastic and motivational, someone patient and for whom no question was too stupid.
Corin allowed a ten-minute break for toilet visits and to buy hot drinks before they headed onto the beach. Mim helped him tidy up the boxes of samples and the chairs.
‘I’m glad to see you haven’t died of boredom yet,’ he said, smiling at Mim. ‘There are newspapers in the café if you’ve had enough and would rather wait in there.’
‘No way,’ Mim said. ‘I’m not missing out on the fun bit. I can’t believe such old things are lying about on the beach and not locked away in a museum. It’s incredible.’
‘We do have to hand it in if we find anything rare,’ Corin said. ‘It’s unlikely, though. The serious fossil hunters will have searched the beach hours ago.’
‘Really?’ That was annoying. Mim had been hoping she might get lucky and find an ammonite. ‘How do you know all this stuff, anyway?’
‘From a degree in Geography, a master’s in Geology, and an ill-spent youth combing the beaches for treasure.’
‘Oh!’ Mim looked at Corin with fresh eyes as he pulled down the boot and locked the car. ‘I didn’t realise you were clever.’
Corin laughed.
‘I don’t know how to take that. Did you think I was awarded a PhD simply for being posh?’
‘Sounds about right.’ Mim grinned. ‘You have one of those too?’
‘I do, but don’t worry. I won’t insist on you calling me Dr Howard.’
Mim dropped into a curtsey.
‘You’re too kind to us ’umble folk,’ she said, putting on her thickest accent. She laughed and pointed towards the café where the customers were gathering. ‘Better not keep your adoring fans waiting, doctor.’
Corin led the group down onto the beach. It was a grey day and drizzle hung in the air, but even so there were a fair number of people scattered up and down the beach, poring over the pebbles. They stopped a few hundred metres along the beach and everyone gathered round Corin. He showed them a couple of things he’d picked up on the short walk from the car park. The first was a small pebble, with thin ridged columns visible on the surface, which he told them were crinoids. The second looked like an ordinary grey stone, but there was a cream line running horizontally round the centre of it, which Corin explained meant there might be an ammonite inside. Everyone leaned close while he tapped it gently with his hammer and prised the stone open, and there was a collective sigh of disappointment when there was nothing of interest inside.
‘See if you can do better,’ Corin said and the group didn’t need telling twice. Mim was amazed at how this group of mild-mannered, middle-aged people suddenly transformed into cut-throat fossil hunters, scrabbling for what they thought was the best place on the beach. She didn’t know how Corin bore it with such patience; every couple of minutes, one or other of the group took him something to examine or a pebble to hammer, although the conversation usually ended with a regretful shake of the head. Even Mim was caught up in the competitive nature of the hunt and was determined to win more than a, ‘Good try’ from Corin.
After a couple of hours, Corin called the group together again as the guided walk had ended. Mim was frustrated to see that a few of the others had been quite successful and she admired a belemnite and a fragment of ammonite with a forced smile.
‘Didn’t you find anything?’ Corin asked Mim, as they wandered back towards the car park.
‘Nothing real,’ she said. There had been plenty of false starts, including an embarrassing moment when she’d mistaken a piece of plastic for dinosaur poo. She kicked a pile of pebbles in frustration and then bent down, ignoring the throbbing in her toes. She picked up a smooth oval pebble with a clear seam running horizontally around the middle.
‘Another dud, probably,’ she said, and was about to toss it back on the beach when Corin took it from her.
‘Let’s try,’ he said, and he tapped at certain points on the side of the pebble until it gently split in his hands. He held it out so that Mim could see. Inside the stone there was a clear imprint of an ammonite.
‘This is the best find of the day,’ he said. He smiled at Mim. ‘In fact, the best find for a few days. You’re a natural.’
‘Can I keep this?’
‘Yes. It’s all yours.’ He placed both halves of the stone in Mim’s hands and she studied it, marvelling at this evidence of long ago life. ‘What do you think?’ Corin asked. ‘Will this interest the guests?’
‘What? Oh, the caravan guests.’ It took Mim a moment to remember. This was supposed to have been a fact-finding mission for the charity, not a source of so much fun. Reluctantly, she put the pebble away in her pocket. ‘I think it would be great, but perhaps I’m not the best person to judge. Everything down here is new to me. It’s all exciting.’
‘That makes you the perfect person to judge.’ Several strands of Mim’s hair had worked loose from her bobble in the wind, and Corin watched as she refastened it. ‘It’s easy to become jaded with what’s on offer when you see it every day. You can breathe fresh enthusiasm into it. Into all of us.’
Lia didn’t hang about. No sooner had Mim tentatively suggested a trial of the caravans at Easter than it was adopted as a plan, with a schedule of works drawn up to ensure everything was ready for that date. Bea and Bill had stepped back and allowed Lia to take charge of the scheme from the Howard side, and she had picked up the challenge with surprising efficiency and enthusiasm – so much so that Bill had rubbed his hands together with glee and declared that she ‘was a chip off the old block after all’. Given what Mim had heard about Bill and his short-lived schemes, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
The first job, of making sure that the gas, electricity, and water supplies were safe and in working order, were already underway, including a check on Mim’s caravan. The news wasn’t good. All the caravans needed work to meet the current regulations and it would take a few days to complete the job.
‘But it isn’t all bad news,’ Lia said, when she c
alled in on Wednesday evening to update Mim. ‘It means that you’ll have to come and stay with us for a few nights.’
‘There’s no need for that. I’m sure I’ll be fine here.’
‘Darling, you can’t mean that. All the services will be switched off. You won’t have any lights or be able to flush the loo. Can you imagine how awful that would be?’ She shuddered. ‘You can’t live like a savage.’
‘It wouldn’t be that bad,’ Mim said. It would still be an improvement on sleeping in the car. At least the caravan had a bed. The surrounding field and trees would provide an adequate toilet, and she could fill a few bottles with water before it was turned off so she could brush her teeth and have a wash. There might even be a packet of wet wipes amongst her belongings for a more luxurious clean. ‘I’m sure I can manage.’
Lia laughed.
‘You are funny. You don’t have to manage. Everything is arranged. Mummy has asked Mrs Dennis to prepare the spare room for you. It will be ready for you to move in tomorrow.’
‘I can’t move tomorrow. I’ll be working, so I can’t pack my things.’
‘Yes, we know that, so we will move your things for you. I told you, it’s all arranged. You don’t have to do anything.’
Mim had to object, even though it did feel like she was kicking an adorable puppy. She realised Lia meant well but she wasn’t comfortable with other people touching her things. It was a hangover from childhood that she’d not been able to shake off.