by Lucy Coleman
What Clarissa doesn’t know is how close I came to pulling this couple’s story, until I received an email from Carol shortly after I’d spoken to them. She explained that the morning of the interview she’d received a recall for a mammogram she’d had done the week prior. They were both worried sick about it and she admitted their heads were all over the place. Carol went on to say that everything is fine and that she wanted to explain what Christmas meant to them in photos.
When I opened the attachment, I saw that it was a collage. It was a collection of crazy, mad snapshots which summed up the chaos that is a normal Christmas day for their family. But every face had a smile; every eye reflected happiness. In the centre was a photo of Carol and Steve beneath the mistletoe, but I could clearly see the arms of a child wrapped around her waist. Even as their lips touched, Steve seemed to be looking over Carol’s shoulder, keeping a watchful eye on what was happening behind them. The same way that on the day of the interview Carol’s problem had been in the forefront of Steve’s mind and nothing else had mattered to him. I knew then that I had everything I needed to make this article work and that there would be many families who would connect with the chaos, and the love.
‘Great stuff, Tia. We want to keep this real, get our readers to engage and see aspects of their own lives reflected in this feature. Then give them practical ideas they can go away and try for themselves. Family life is tough at times and it’s comforting to be reminded other people struggle, too. I’ll be interested to read the complete thing, once you have it. Will you be able to meet the deadline?’
‘It shouldn’t be a problem. I’m getting lots of exercise here and sleeping well, so my energy levels are through the roof.’
I’m sure Clarissa can hear the change in my voice and I have to explain it away somehow. I am re-energised and I’m feeling positive again.
‘Good to hear. Something interesting has come up and it’s sitting on my desk at the moment. I’m not sure if I should push it Finlay’s way, but my gut is saying you’d do a better job of it. We’ve been offered the chance to shadow a Formula One driver. He’s a former test driver working his first season on the grid. The working title is On and Off the Track. Give it some thought. It would tie you up over the summer and involve a fair bit of travel. I don’t know if you’d prefer a period back in the office after your time on the Gower coast.’
Clarissa assigns jobs and you have no choice other than to go with it. In much the same way as she handed me the file for this feature and she wasn’t expecting a refusal. It’s odd she’s asking me what I’d prefer. I mean, I don’t think that’s a term I’ve ever heard her use before.
‘I’m… um, well I hadn’t given it any thought. Of course, it sounds like a great opportunity and I haven’t made any plans for after my return.’
Fleetingly, I think that it would be nice to maybe come back to visit Caswell Bay in the height of summer. But after this… little fling, let’s call it, with Nic, that might make it rather difficult. When I leave at the beginning of July I have to look back with no regrets.
‘I’ll pencil you in for that, then. We’ll discuss it on your return. In the meantime, keep me posted of any developments. I’m here if you want to talk.’
What? As the line goes dead I find myself staring at the phone in my hand. Something is up and I quickly text Hayley.
Morning Hayley. Interviews now done for couple number 4. Can u let me have an up to date schedule? Is everything OK there?
Seconds later my phone rings and I knew if she was free, she’d call.
‘Did Clarissa just offer you the F1 thing? I took some papers into her while you were talking and overheard a bit of the conversation. Finlay will be furious.’
I can imagine the beam on her face. Finlay went through a phase of telling Hayley to fetch his coffee, something she only does for Clarissa, obviously. We all make our own and he knew that. She ignored him every time, of course, but he tried it on for well over a week. In the end, she span around on her heels, glared at him and said, ‘Get it yourself, Finlay. I work for the boss, not for you and I doubt you’ll ever find yourself in that position.’
It was in the open office and everyone put their heads straight down, but secretly we all wanted to give her a round of applause.
‘Well, she’s offering it. If I don’t have plans for the summer.’
‘What?’
‘I had the same reaction. What’s going on there, Hayley? I was a bit worried about Finlay trying to undermine my position and walking back into an uneasy situation, but Clarissa is acting strangely.’
‘Hmm.’ Hayley pauses for a second. ‘There’s no change this end. It’s busy, which is good and things are ticking over. To be honest, she’s as demanding as ever but when I heard her talking to you I couldn’t believe it. He will feel aggrieved, that’s for sure. He’s a big fan of F1 and she knows it.’
‘Maybe it’s a test.’
‘Of Finlay, or of you?’
‘Who knows?’
That makes two of us without a clue about what’s really going on.
‘Anyway, what’s happening? Any promising little interludes on the horizon?’
My mouth suddenly feels very dry. Hayley knows I’m not going to spend every single waking hour working.
‘I went to a barn dance on Saturday night. I danced with the local postman, Tom. I’ve not met him before as the owner has his post diverted. Tom is a great dancer.’
‘Sounds interesting.’ I can hear Hayley’s mind working overtime.
‘He’s in his early sixties and has three grandchildren. But he was a good teacher and it was actually a lot of fun. You should try it sometime. How’s Jack?’
Nicely diverted, Tia.
‘He’s wonderful. He wants us to have a weekend away together and I’m so excited about it.’
‘That’s lovely to hear, Hayley. Has he met your parents, yet?’
‘Yes, we’ve been out for a meal with them. That’s partly what the weekend away is about, as his parents live in the Lake District and he’s trying to organise a family gathering. Anyway, I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything that might be of interest to you. I think there’s a plan afoot, so be aware and tread cautiously. And try to have some fun. There has to be at least one handsome, unattached guy hanging around, even if it is a very sedate place.’
‘If I see one, I’ll grab him. How’s that?’
‘Well, make sure you do. It’s about time you got laid again and reminded yourself what life is all about.’
My coffee mug is halfway to my mouth as she speaks and as my arm wobbles I miss my aim. The result is a fine spray of brown dots down the front of my teeshirt.
‘Working on it. Speak to you later.’
Actually, I’m way ahead of target on that front.
*
‘Hey, how was your day?’
As Nic steps inside he catches my hand. I step back and with a gentle kick, he pushes the front door closed behind him.
‘Good thanks and yours?’
He raises my fingers to his lips, looking over the tops of them into my eyes. He seems genuinely pleased to see me but it’s a look of relief, as if he’s trying to shrug off something that’s weighing him down.
‘There was a breakin up at the farm. I can’t believe they had the nerve to do it in broad daylight. It’s a sprawling place, admittedly, but people are coming and going all the time. It means they’ve been watching the property for some time and that’s a real concern.’
I’m shocked by his words. ‘Was much stolen?’
He nods his head. ‘They stole yesterday’s takings from the office and left a fine mess behind them. They also ransacked one of the bedrooms and stole a jewellery box. Irreplaceable family heirloom stuff by all accounts with some real value to it, but it’s the sentimental attachment that has struck home. What’s worrying is that there are a lot of bedrooms in that old place and yet they seemed to hone in on the only one worth combing through. Mike’s convinced
they’d tried before but were disturbed, maybe. Second time around they knew exactly where to head and that’s the only way they could have pulled off something as bold and risky as that.’
A slight shiver travels down my spine.
‘If you want to head back up there to help out—’
‘No, it’s fine. I know I said I’d return and I have, but I don’t want to crowd you. If it’s not convenient, just say and I’ll make it a brief visit.’
I wasn’t trying to send him away and I pout. He grins back at me.
‘Seriously, we are two consenting adults and it won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want to spend every waking minute with me.’
We are now standing so close together that he rests his chin on my head, playfully.
‘I wonder how different the world is when seen from varying heights.’
He’s implying I’m short and I take a step back, tilting my head to peer up at him.
‘The taller they are, the harder they fall.’
He still hasn’t let go of my hand and it’s clear we’re both waiting to see what the other person wants to do.
‘How about a walk along the beach?’
He nods his head and I wriggle free from his grasp, so I can grab my jacket and slip on my shoes.
As we close the garden gate behind us, and head down to the water’s edge, I see that Max is out fishing today. He’s too far away to acknowledge as Nic and I stroll hand in hand along the full length of Holly Cove.
‘I’ve been meaning to say, I love the sea views you have hanging on the staircase walls. There are some really great photographs there. I keep forgetting to bring my iPad and take a few snaps of my own.’
‘Thanks. It’s an outlet for my creative side now I work solely to pay the bills.’
‘Oh, I don’t think you mentioned what you did for a living before you bought the cottage.’
His jaw tightens a little, but he turns to look directly at me as he answers.
‘I was a Marketing Director for a large publishing company in London. Unfortunately, most of my money was tied up in property and house prices dropped at the same time I lost my job. I walked away with just enough equity to buy the cottage and start doing it up. Now I’ve run out of funds and, as I mentioned, I’m barely getting by financially at the moment. The big problem is next winter, as the roof needs an overhaul and when the boiler was serviced the plumber said they no longer manufacture spare parts for it. And then there’s the garden. Then there’s the fencing at the front which needs re-painting and at the back I need to take down a few trees to let in more light. It’s an endless list, I’m afraid.’
I push back the strands of hair being whipped across my face by the light breeze coming off the water. As I look into his eyes, I can see the uncertainty weighs heavily upon Nic’s shoulders.
‘You’ve done a wonderful job of the renovation work, Nic. You have a real sense of design, too. The rooms in the cottage flow beautifully and that’s quite an achievement. Everything takes time.’
He looks pleased and I’m glad the opportunity has arisen to tell him that. When you’re on your own, there isn’t anyone you can share your highs and lows with at the end of the day. That’s tough at times. Even now, I catch myself thinking I must call Mum and tell her about something that’s happened. Then I remember the cold reality that still doesn’t seem quite real.
‘Hard work is good for the soul. Bashing down walls with a sledgehammer and carrying out hundreds of buckets of rubble is exhausting. But it was cathartic at the time.’
It must have been a huge adjustment for him. I know that I’m fooling myself if I think that when I’m back in London it isn’t going to be a massive step for me, too. I wonder if I’m losing my appetite for the cut and thrust of an industry where your instincts have to be sharp and your conscience flexible.
‘It’s funny, but life seems to tick over and we rise to each little challenge that comes our way, thinking nothing changes very much. Then suddenly our world is turned upside down and everything changes overnight. It’s only with hindsight anyone can appreciate how blinkered we become.’
We’re almost at the point where the projecting headland cuts off the beach and we loop around to pass in front of the cabins. There are boards laid out over the softer area in two parallel lines down to the firmer sand. Looking back towards the workshop, the metal fencing is locked and I can see the boat trailer inside.
‘That’s quite a big boat. It must be hard launching it from here.’ I turn towards the sea, raising my hand above my eyes to shield them from the sun. The boat is bobbing around, but it’s still too far out to be more than a shape.
‘The boards take the weight and stop the trailer wheels from sinking into the sand. Once it’s on the firmer stuff a boat like that simply slides off the rollers on the trailer with ease. It’s a one-man job. The shore falls away quite rapidly here, so it’s a good spot. It’s easy enough to winch the loaded trailer back up, afterwards.’
I had wondered about that because I knew there was no way you could drive along the beach.
‘It must have been really hard to transport the building materials for the huts to this spot, then.’
I’m thinking as I speak and when I look at Nic, he simply shrugs.
‘People don’t always do what’s sensible. I should have bought a nice tidy little house on one of the little developments off Caswell Road. Instead I chose the difficult option, so who am I to judge someone else’s idiosyncratic ideas. Anyway, I’m getting hungry. How do you fancy some hearty pub grub?’
‘Great, it’s my treat tonight, though. Not quite as special as last night’s trip to the Brasserie, for which I forgot to thank you.’
Nic stops, then circles around in front of me.
‘You are still OK about this, aren’t you? No second thoughts?’
‘I am, and I have a suggestion to make, but I’ll save that for later. Much later.’
Finally, he seems to relax a little and I can see that aside from the fact that I’ve made him curious, he’s relieved by the implication. Anyway, he’s going to have to wait until I’ve had at least one very large glass of wine before I proposition him.
20
The Talk of the Village
When we arrive back at the cottage I shower and change, leaving Nic in the sitting room leafing through his books.
When I reappear, he looks up from the sofa and his eyes sweep over me appreciatively. I almost wish we weren’t going out.
‘You look good.’
The words are irrelevant, because his eyes say it all very clearly indeed.
‘Come on, we’re heading back up to the farm so we can catch a lift to the pub.’
I look at him enquiringly.
‘I thought I’d have a pint and I don’t drink and drive.’
He stands, walking over to the bookshelves to return the volume he was reading when I came in.
‘Great collection, quite diverse.’ I decide to dive in and clear up a little question hovering in the back of my mind. ‘A few surprises in there. I understand all the books on photography now. But The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks? I don’t think anyone can read that and have a dry eye.’
The moment I finish talking, I realise I’ve touched a nerve, but he doesn’t look angry, only sad.
‘Not all of these books are mine; a few were here originally, when I moved in.’
He looks uncomfortable and I wonder if it belonged to a previous girlfriend. I guess that’s a little mystery that will remain unsolved. Besides, it’s none of my business, anyway.
‘Shall I fetch your coat?’
As Nic heads off to the bathroom I put on my shoes and grab my bag. When he returns he’s all smiles and on the way to the farm we pass the time talking about the barn dance. He tells me some funny stories about a few of the people there, the sort that you couldn’t miss spotting even in such a large crowd. I’ll probably never cross paths again with the vast majority of them during the remainder of
my visit, but I am beginning to pick up on how supportive people are in this tight little community. I’ve not been made to feel like a tourist passing through, but it’s as if I’ve been adopted and given a temporary citizenship.
‘Olwen sings your praises. I think she was sad to see Beach View Cottage deteriorating, so in her book you are a hero.’
Nic parks the car up behind the barn where the dance was held. As we head back down to the farmhouse I have a thought.
‘Is it far? Could we walk to the pub?’
‘It’s about a mile-and-a-half, tops, I suppose. Are you up for that?’
‘I spend too much time sitting down in front of a computer screen, so any exercise is always welcome.’
‘I’ll take you the scenic route, rather than along the main road. It isn’t muddy, it’s a gravel path and well-trodden.’
‘I’m really surprised there aren’t more signs around to make it clear what is private property and what isn’t. I suspect a lot of visitors to the area won’t be experienced walkers and it must be annoying to have people wandering around on your land as if they have a right to be there.’
Nic nods in agreement.
‘Actually, I wish I didn’t own the woods around the cottage. It’s a bit of a liability at times. Even woodland needs managing and I have to regularly inspect the trees up near the road, especially after high winds. If something falls on a passing car, or a person is injured, then I suppose I might be held liable if it’s down to poor management. But it was part and parcel of the deal.’
Well, the surprises keep on coming. He doesn’t just own the cottage, but the woods around it too. As we walk, Nic tells me a little more about the surrounding area. Behind the bay is the Bishop’s Wood nature reserve and it’s a rare example of a limestone woodland. He goes on to tell me the legend of the local murder mystery case that took forty years to solve. A married couple disappeared without warning shortly before Christmas 1919. In November 1961, a bag of human bones was discovered in a disused local mine; they were proven to be those of the wife. After an extensive manhunt, the husband’s body was traced to a cemetery in Bristol, some eighty miles away. He’d died almost three years before the discovery.