by Kate Field
Corin threw his sponge into a bucket and stood back to take a look.
‘That looks passable, doesn’t it?’ he asked, appealing to Mim and Bobby.
‘It’s much better,’ Mim said, inspecting the caravan wall. ‘Is there still a shadow where the paint was, or am I imagining it?’
‘It’s definitely in your imagination.’ Corin came alongside her. ‘I think we’re only conscious of it because we’ve focused on the paint all day. No one who attends the launch on Saturday will be scrutinising the bodywork like this.’ He stepped back. ‘I say we need beer and food. Who wants to come round to my house? Bobby?’
‘Sorry, I’m meeting a mate tonight,’ Bobby replied. Corin looked at Mim.
‘It’s just you, me, and Dickens then,’ he said to her. ‘What do you say to seafood risotto?’
‘Is it one of Mrs Dennis’s specialities?’
‘Certainly not. I can actually throw a meal together. Are you brave enough to try it?’
A meal on her own with Corin? Mim wavered. She would have agreed yesterday, glad of this sign of friendship, but now Janet’s insinuations echoed in her ears. Did everyone else think she was setting her sights on Corin? She didn’t want to fuel gossip for either of them, especially when it was so far from the truth. Before she could answer him, her phone rang.
‘You’re late for work,’ Howie said, when she answered the call. ‘Are you on your way?’
‘No. I quit this morning. And Janet sacked me,’ she added, compelled to tell the truth. ‘I thought you knew.’
‘Aye, Bill mentioned it. You quit the shop, not the Boat. As long as my name’s above the door as landlord, I’ll decide who works here. Janet owns the building, not the business, whatever she might think. You’re a good worker and popular with the customers. In fact, now you’re free of the shop, what do you say to working more nights and all day Saturday? After the caravan launch. I know you won’t want to miss that.’
‘I’d love to.’ Mim grinned. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
‘I gather you’re turning me down?’ Corin said as she put away her phone. ‘Have you received a better offer?’
‘I have. Sorry.’ Mim smiled. It was the best offer possible. Now she would be earning again; now she could afford to stay here in Littlemead, in her gorgeous caravan. ‘Howie has offered me my job back at the Boat, and extra shifts too.’
‘That’s great news.’ Corin looked genuinely pleased for her. He started to tidy away the cleaning equipment as Mim dashed up the steps and into her caravan. He called after her. ‘We’ll have to do dinner another time.’
Chapter Sixteen
‘I’m really not sure about this,’ Mim said, studying her reflection in the mirror. ‘I don’t look like me.’
‘Oh darling, you look gorgeous,’ Lia replied, circling round Mim. ‘Like an even better version of you. This is how you should always look.’
‘It wouldn’t be very practical for scrubbing the bathrooms in the caravans, would it?’
It was Saturday morning, launch day for As You Like It holidays, and initially Mim had been pleased that she could attend. It was the one bright part of losing her job in the shop. Or it was, until Lia had told her that as a trustee of the charity, Mim was expected to be a visible face, selling their story and talking to the press, not just serving the drinks. That bombshell had led on to the suggestion that she might like to wear something more attractive than her everyday work clothes. And on Mim admitting that she didn’t have anything more attractive, Lia had roped in Ros, and here they all were, getting ready together.
It had been fun. This was a new experience for Mim – the laughter, the camaraderie, the mutual support of being with other women and getting ready for an event together. Except, to her dismay, it had soon become all about Mim. Lia had blow-dried her hair, and worked a miracle in arranging it into a half-up half-down style, so that soft waves rather than messy curls framed her face. Ros had skilfully applied make-up so that her eyes seemed twice as big and her face glowed like a film star. They’d even solved the clothes issue by bringing a selection of dresses that Ros could no longer fit in for Mim to borrow. The result was little short of a total transformation.
She cast another glance at her reflection. She’d eventually chosen a soft green dress decorated with tiny white daisies, fitted round the bodice and then falling to calf length in a full skirt. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever worn before. She swayed from side to side, enjoying the way the silk fabric swirled around her legs. She didn’t look like Mim Brown. She looked like Miranda, as if she’d been born to this life. She smiled. She was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
She wasn’t the only one dressed to impress. They had worked hard on the caravan site this morning and it looked magnificent. The three caravans that had been damaged by spray paint had cleaned up well, after another day of hard graft on Friday; they weren’t perfect, and Mim could still see a shadow, but she didn’t think the guests would notice. Susie had made some long strips of bunting which they had draped between the caravans, and it fluttered prettily in the gentle breeze coming in off the sea. Bobby had refilled the plant pots, and now an abundance of vivid coloured flowers brightened each veranda. He had also created a games area in one corner of the field, by cutting short a square of grass, and now giant outdoor games were set out, waiting to be played. Everything was perfect, from the blue sky and warm sunshine to the delicious smell of the barbecue wafting across the field. Mim looked around and felt a surge of pride that she’d been able to contribute to this project. This could bring some pleasure to those who really needed it. Whatever it took, it had to be a success.
Lia and Ros had been in charge of the guest list for the launch party. Ros had worked in modelling and promotion before she married and had a huge list of useful contacts, many of whom she had persuaded down to Devon for the weekend. Lia had focused on social media and had drawn in an impressive selection of bloggers and influencers as well as the local press. Villagers and local businesses had been invited too, to emphasise that the community was behind this scheme – with the obvious exception of one business. The aim of the party was simple: to obtain as much publicity as they could, and to spread the word that the charity existed in the hope of securing donations and filling up the caravans for the summer.
The five guest caravans were all open for viewing, and Mim enjoyed showing groups round. It was easy to be enthusiastic about the interiors when Susie had made them look so beautiful. Each had a different colour scheme, which co-ordinated with the exterior of the caravan, but they all brought the same feeling of cosy warmth with the textured cushions, snuggly blankets, and fluffy rugs.
‘You’re doing a great job selling the place,’ one of the visitors said, after Mim had shown him and a couple of bloggers around the blue caravan. ‘I love what you’ve done with these caravans. I haven’t seen anything like them before. It’s unusual to have created a premium product for holidays you’re giving away.’
‘We were lucky. A local lady designed all the interiors and she’s done a gorgeous job, hasn’t she? She’s here today if you’d like to meet her.’ Mim had no idea who this man was but if he had a blog perhaps he could give Susie a push? Although, he didn’t look like a blogger. He was casually dressed in jeans and a shirt but he had that indefinable whiff of money about him that she’d come to recognise since meeting the Howards. Perhaps he was one of Lia’s friends; he was more Mim’s age, but he was handsome enough to be part of Lia’s set.
‘Anyway,’ she said, as the other members of the group wandered away. ‘I don’t think premium products should be reserved for rich people. Everyone deserves some luxury in life.’
‘And what’s your luxury?’ he asked.
‘That.’ Mim smiled and pointed at her caravan. ‘I live there. So you see, I know what I’m talking about when I say it would be a treat to stay here. I love it, and I know that everyone we can offer a holiday to will love it too.’
‘Do you
think your guests might be bored?’ the man asked. ‘You can’t compete with the larger parks along the coast that can offer swimming pools and leisure facilities.’
‘True. But our caravans aren’t crammed in cheek by jowl, and we offer personal services such as collection from the railway station and transport to activities and tourist attractions. We’re not trying to compete. Our holidays are free, and they’ll allow families to have quality time together and create memories that no amount of money can buy.’
The man smiled. It was a good smile but not dazzling.
‘I should make a confession,’ he said. ‘We haven’t been introduced yet. I’m Henry Burrows. I own several of the holiday parks along the coast. The ones where the caravans are cheek by jowl.’
Mim recognised the name; Corin had mentioned him before. She grinned.
‘Sorry. If I’d known who you were…’
‘You wouldn’t have been so honest?’
‘Oh, I would. But I might have thought of a fancier way of putting it.’
Henry laughed.
‘I like what you said before. We provide holidays. You want to create memories. I think you’re doing a great thing here and I’d like to help. Our nearest park is only three miles away. There’s a swimming pool and mini golf, and a fantastic adventure play area. What if we offered all your guests free use of the park facilities?’
‘Do you mean it? That would be brilliant.’ More than brilliant – Mim couldn’t believe her luck. She’d discussed with Lia in the past whether they could provide membership to the nearby leisure club for guests who came to stay, but it had proved too complicated. This would be even better.
‘Why don’t you come and have a look at what we offer?’ Henry’s arm brushed her back as he guided her towards the other caravans. ‘Let’s make it a date and we can work through all the details.’
Mim was taking a five-minute break in the shade behind her caravan when Corin joined her. She’d only seen him from a distance during the afternoon, and every time he’d had a group of women around him, hanging off his every word and lapping up his charm. He’d made an effort today, abandoning the scruffy clothes for a pair of linen trousers and an open-necked shirt that clung over those swimmer’s shoulders. He looked like rich Corin again, not the one she’d come to think of as a friend. She still couldn’t work out which one he really was.
‘I thought you might welcome one of these,’ he said. He held out two bottles of beer, and Mim grinned and took one. There was a true sign of friendship. She closed her eyes in pleasure as the cool liquid slipped down her throat. When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her.
‘That’s exactly what I needed,’ she said. ‘Thanks. It’s going well out there, isn’t it?’ She gestured back towards the centre of the field, where the guests continued to enjoy the food, drink, and sunshine. Corin nodded, still watching her.
‘You look different,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’ Mim laughed. ‘The compliment every woman wants to hear. Thank your sister. Ros has great taste in dresses.’ She spun round in a circle so the silk skirt flared around her legs. ‘I’m enjoying a taste of the high life before crashing back to reality tomorrow.’
‘Like Cinderella,’ he murmured, and smiled the full, dazzling Corin smile. Mim was transported back to that first time she’d met him, remembered the spark of connection she’d felt with the stranger under the trees on New Year’s Eve. Here they were again, hiding away together, sharing a sneaky drink, and she marvelled at how things had changed over the last few months; the connection had grown and blossomed into a friendship she valued more than she could ever have imagined on that winter’s night. Then she noticed his gaze stray to her left arm and reality crashed back in sooner than she’d expected. The short sleeves of the dress exposed a stretch of puckered, shiny skin that ran down her inner arm towards her wrist.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘My family happened. I never had a problem with mine loving me too much.’ She drank more beer. She’d lived with the burn scar since she was eight, but something about Corin’s scrutiny made her more conscious of it than she had been for years. Was he judging her for her flaw and for the squalid history that it represented? The idea gave her an unexpected twist of pain and made her defensive. ‘Ugly, isn’t it? You can say it. I doubt you can come up with anything worse than the insults I used to hear at school. Can you imagine? Ginger and a freak…’ She smiled but couldn’t look at him, wary of what truth she would see on his face. ‘But I don’t see why I should cover it up. I’m not ashamed. It wasn’t my fault.’
‘Mim…’ The word was husky, like a caress, and Corin took a step towards her. She looked up. The expression on his face puzzled her – it was more like anger than anything else but that made no sense. Why should he care what names she had been called at school?
‘What are you two doing, skulking back here?’ Lia’s arrival broke the moment. ‘Mim darling, I need you to come with me. The press photographer wants a picture to go with the article and you absolutely must be in it.’
‘Must I?’ Mim grimaced. ‘Why me?’
‘You’re one of the trustees. Besides, you’re looking gorgeous today and we absolutely have to exploit that.’
Today? Did that mean she looked a hideous troll every other day? Mim spotted Corin stifling a laugh at Lia’s comment and didn’t see why he should get out of it.
‘What about Corin?’ she said, sending him a look of mischief, glad that the strange atmosphere of a few moments ago had been replaced with their usual laughter. ‘He’s a trustee too. Shouldn’t he be in the photo?’
‘Perhaps it will look better with the three of us.’ Lia smiled. ‘I suppose he might help attract attention. Some people do seem to think he’s handsome, though it’s totally bizarre to me. Leave your beer behind, darlings; we don’t want to appear uncouth.’
The afternoon couldn’t have gone better. Everyone Mim spoke to loved the caravans and the idea of the charity, and promised support in whatever way they could, whether through financial donations or publicity. It had been lovely to see some of the local children chasing across the field and playing with the outdoor games, demonstrating what a safe, fun place it could be. Bill had surprised everyone, even Bea, by announcing that he would allow the charity guests access to his model railway, under his supervision. It was his pride and joy, built over many years, and Mim had never seen anything like it. It filled one of the workshops and had several tracks that ran through countryside and along a coastline not dissimilar to the one on their doorstep in Littlemead. The attention to detail was amazing with animals grazing in the fields, deckchairs on the promenade, and washing hanging on a line outside a row of cottages. It was a hit with everyone, young and old, and its unveiling was the perfect way to end the day.
Howie had allowed Mim the afternoon off work but she was expected in the Boat by seven. She thought that would give her time to help clear up once the launch party ended but Bea had other ideas. Having failed to persuade Mim to miss work and join the family for a celebratory dinner, she frogmarched her over to the house for what she described as a debrief but which turned out to be an excuse to drink Champagne. Not that the Howards needed much excuse, Mim reflected, as she joined Ros in having a cup of tea instead.
She couldn’t deny that there was much to celebrate. Everyone had a story to tell about a generous donation they had won or a connection they had made. Corin had charmed the headteacher of the nearest school, who had agreed to spread news of the charity within her headteachers’ association, so they could refer any families they thought would benefit from the scheme. Olly had walked away with the largest individual donation of the day. Lia had persuaded a local business to sponsor one of the caravans for a year, in return for choosing a name; for the next twelve months, the yellow caravan would be called Rosie after the owner’s wife, and Lia had already drawn up a shortlist of businesses who might like to sponsor the others.
‘And let’s not fo
rget Mim’s achievement,’ Lia said, after everyone had toasted her success. ‘Did you all hear? She’s persuaded Henry Burrows to allow our guests free use of the facilities at the Happy Days holiday park. Isn’t that fabulous? It’s a double celebration because he’s asked her out on a date as well. To darling Mim!’ Lia raised her glass and winked at Mim, who laughed and shook her head; she should have known that Lia would exaggerate a perfectly innocent meeting. She was looking at the Happy Days park with Henry on behalf of the charity, nothing more. He’d hardly be interested in dating her. Just as well, as she wasn’t interested in dating him. ‘Wouldn’t it be the most wonderful piece of publicity if we could claim an As You Like It wedding?’
‘Surely that would be a case of all’s well that ends well?’ Bill said and everyone laughed except Bea, who was looking at Mim with a puzzled expression, and Corin, who was rubbing Dickens’s tummy and didn’t seem to be listening.
Mim’s own clothes were still upstairs in Lia’s room and she reluctantly left the celebration to change before work. She’d made it as far as the foot of the stairs when she heard Corin’s voice behind her.
‘So you’re going on a date with Henry Burrows,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think he would be your type.’
Mim turned round. Corin was standing in the middle of the hall, a bottle of beer in his hand. The evening sun beamed through the windows and lit him up like an angel.
‘Not my type?’ Mim repeated. Her dress swished against her legs and she smiled, waiting for the punchline. ‘Go on, why not?’
‘He’s obscenely rich and comes from a posh family, for a start.’
‘I see.’ His words brought her crashing back down to earth after the happy fantasy of the last few hours. He wasn’t teasing or making a joke. He was serious, and Janet’s barbed words from a few days ago came rushing back to the surface from where she’d tried to bury them. Despite the borrowed clothes, the make-up, the fancy hairdo, she was still a bit of rough – not one of them. How could she have been stupid enough to believe anything else? The scar on her arm, that he had studied only a few hours ago, branded her forever with the troubles of her past. He had judged her on it, just as she had feared. Now she had the answer to her question about whether he was the rich man or her friend.