Meet Me at Beachcomber Bay: A delicious Cornish romance

by Jill Mansell

  Belle, believing Giles rather than Clemency, had hit the roof. Clemency, outraged at having been accused of something she hadn’t done, had been incandescent with fury, firstly at not being believed and secondly because there was no way in the world she’d ever make a pass at the spiteful chinless rat-weasel that was Vile Giles.

  Giles had left, but the insult-hurling between the two volatile sisters had ricocheted on, and Clemency’s mum and Belle’s dad had been forced to intervene to prevent the upcoming Christmas celebrations being completely ruined. On the surface, at least, a precarious truce had been called.

  Two months later, Clemency had begun seeing Pierre, a nineteen-year-old surf instructor who lived in Bude. Pierre was tall and rangy, with sea-green eyes and tangled blond hair. He was a beautiful specimen, confident and funny. A little bit wild, but charming too, he had won Clemency over completely. She’d been smitten, more so than ever before, and the thought of seeing him brightened each day.

  Then at Easter, she went up to Manchester for a week to stay with a friend who’d moved there from Cornwall the previous year. And when she returned, it wasn’t quite the happy homecoming she’d anticipated.

  The absence of cars on the driveway had told her that Baz and her mum were both out. Hearing music coming from the first floor, Clemency had made her way up the staircase. When she knocked on Belle’s bedroom door, Belle opened it and said, ‘Oh, it’s you.’ Then, with a little smirk, she allowed the door to swing wide open and added, ‘Oh dear.’

  Except there was no Oh dear about it, because she’d known which train Clemency had been catching, and exactly what time she’d be back.

  In one way, you almost had to admire her exemplary planning skills, because ensuring that Clemency would be home to see Pierre asleep and sprawled across Belle’s king-sized bed in just boxer shorts couldn’t have been easy.

  ‘Why?’ Clemency looked at Belle, who was fastening the belt of her green silk dressing gown around her narrow waist. ‘Why would you do this?’

  ‘Ooh, I don’t know, maybe because I can?’ With an air of triumph, Belle added, ‘And because it was so easy. And because now you know how it feels.’

  Across the room, Pierre’s eyes snapped open and focused on the two sisters. ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘Hi, honey.’ Clemency addressed him with ice in her voice. ‘I’m home.’

  On the outside she might appear cool, but inside her heart felt as though it was disintegrating like a digestive dropped in hot tea.

  Pierre said, ‘Look, it was an accident …’

  But Clemency was already shaking her head. ‘I think you’ll find it was deliberate.’ She turned back to Belle. ‘Do you really like him?’

  ‘He’s got a great body.’ Belle shrugged. ‘We’ve had fun. But he’s not my type.’

  ‘What?’ Shocked, Pierre said, ‘Why not? What’s wrong with me?’

  ‘Seriously?’ Clemency counted the reasons on her fingers. ‘You didn’t have a public-school education, your parents aren’t super-wealthy, you ride a moped …’

  ‘So the last week hasn’t meant anything to you?’ Pierre stared at Belle in disbelief.

  ‘Well it meant I got to teach my stepsister a lesson she won’t forget in a hurry. So I’d say that makes it worthwhile.’ Belle turned to Clemency. ‘You can have him back now,’ she said flippantly.

  ‘You must be joking. I wouldn’t touch him with a bargepole. I never want to see him again.’ By some miracle, Clemency managed to hold herself together, though her voice was perilously close to cracking with emotion. ‘I wish I never had to see either of you again. God, you deserve each other. The pair of you are just … repulsive.’

  ‘Are we? Are we?’ Belle’s eyes were glittering. ‘Serves you right for making a pass at Giles!’

  ‘Blimey.’ Ronan was now shaking his head at the tale they’d recounted between them. ‘This is like EastEnders. At least you’re both still alive. So what happened after that?’

  ‘We had A levels coming up,’ said Clemency. ‘I wasn’t seeing Pierre any more, obviously, so I spent all my time revising. Which is why I ended up doing so well.’

  ‘And I thought it’d be fun to carry on seeing him for a bit longer, just to really rub her nose in it.’ Belle pulled a face. ‘So I didn’t get much revision done at all.’

  ‘With predictable results,’ said Clemency. ‘It actually made me feel a lot better at the time, knowing she was going to get bad grades.’

  Ronan looked from one to the other. ‘And were you speaking to each other by then?’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ said Clemency. ‘No way.’

  ‘Then one day, out of the blue, I got a phone call from Giles,’ Belle continued. ‘We’d broken up in February and by then it was the beginning of June. He asked me to go and see him, because he had something to tell me. I wasn’t really that bothered, but he insisted it was important and told me he was in hospital in Exeter. So then of course I had to go over there, and he was in a right old state.’

  ‘Physically?’ said Ronan.

  ‘Well yes, that too. But I’m talking mentally. He was just so ashamed and guilty and sorry. If it hadn’t been Giles I’d have thought he was having some kind of religious crisis … except it was Giles. Anyway, it turned out that the day before, his mum’s new cleaner had happened to mention she was psychic and could read auras. Well, Giles let her do his, just for a laugh, and she told him he’d told a lie a few months ago. He laughed, but she said it was a terrible lie and he’d be punished for it. Then she told him the punishment would be very soon, it would teach him a lesson he’d remember for the rest of his life … oh, and that holiday in Mexico he’d been looking forward to? He wouldn’t be going on it.’

  ‘Nice,’ said Ronan. ‘Cheery.’

  ‘Of course Giles thought it was all completely hilarious. Until he went out that same evening to meet up with friends and an old guy in a Datsun lost control and drove up on to the pavement, sending Giles smashing into a wall.’ Belle spread her hands. ‘Well, that was it. He ended up with two broken legs, a broken arm, three cracked ribs, severe internal bruising … and some kind of epiphany. He’d never believed in psychics before, but now he did. And he was convinced the accident was all down to fate, punishing him for his terrible lie. He was crying as he said it. I mean, actually sobbing,’ she emphasised. ‘Then he told me that Clem had never made a pass at him, he’d just made it all up to cause trouble because he knew she didn’t like him. And he kept apologising and crying and begging me to forgive him for what he’d done—’

  ‘Even though I was the one he’d lied about,’ Clemency cut in.

  ‘Anyway, I felt pretty bad too.’ Belle shook her hair back. ‘Because if Giles hadn’t made up that whole story in the first place, I would never have slept with Pierre. So I went home and told Clem, and for the first time in years we sat down and had a proper talk.’

  ‘First time ever,’ Clemency corrected her. ‘We’d never done it before.’

  Belle nodded. ‘It was a really long talk, too. About boys and family and us being sisters whether we liked it or not. And I knew how I’d felt when I thought Clem had made a play for my boyfriend, so it made me feel extra terrible about doing what I’d done. Anyway, we ended up making a solemn pact. We promised we’d never, ever go near each other’s boyfriends – in that sense – again. Because we were sisters, and sisters don’t do that. It’s like people don’t do it to their best friends. We weren’t best friends, but we were living in the same house, and everything would be so much easier if we could just be nicer to each other and really make an effort to get along.’ Belle paused. ‘So that was it, we made a pact, we’ve stuck to it ever since and we always will. My boyfriends are one hundred per cent off-limits to Clem, and hers are off-limits to me. It’s actually really nice, isn’t it?’ She gave Clemency another squeeze. ‘Knowing we can trust each other that much.’

  ‘This is weird,’ said Ronan. ‘Weird but good. All these years, and I’ve never seen the t
wo of you like this before. You know, relaxed and getting on together.’

  ‘Oh, we have our good moments,’ said Belle. ‘Don’t we?’

  ‘Few and far between,’ Clemency admitted. ‘But they happen.’

  ‘And there’s going to be more of them, because we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other once I’m properly back here. And I’ve got Sam, which makes me really happy.’ Belle raised her glass. ‘Life’s never been better.’

  ‘Well that’s great,’ said Ronan. ‘Here’s to Giles and his miraculous epiphany.’ He clinked his own glass against each of theirs in turn. ‘What happened to him, do you know? Did he recover and devote the rest of his life to doing good works?’

  ‘Ha, you’re kidding,’ said Belle. ‘This is Giles we’re talking about. He ended up getting involved in a spot of insider trading and did two years in prison for fraud.’

  Chapter 11

  Marina finished work earlier than usual on Saturday afternoon. George was due to arrive around six and there’d been no mention of him booking himself into a hotel for the night so she needed to get the spare room ready.

  As always, she collected Ben and Amy from across the road and brought them back to her cottage for an hour or so, in order to let their mother head off and do the weekly supermarket shop in peace. The three-year-old twins loved coming over to visit, and she enjoyed having them with her, even if coping with their noisy, rambunctious company sometimes felt like trying to herd cats and left her feeling the need to lie down afterwards in a darkened room.

  Although with George en route, that most definitely wouldn’t be happening today.

  ‘Wheeeeee!’ screamed Ben, racing along the landing with a pillowcase billowing behind him like a cloak. ‘I’m Batman!’

  ‘I’m a ghost,’ Amy shouted from beneath her white sheet. She waved her arms. ‘Am I scary?’

  ‘Extremely scary,’ said Marina. ‘In fact, terrifying.’

  Delighted, Amy bellowed, ‘I’m scary! Wooooooo!’ and flapped her arms wildly as she danced around the bedroom.

  ‘OK, let me put the sheet on the bed now,’ said Marina. ‘And I need the blue towels on the landing to go in the bathroom. Can you be very good and get those for me?’

  ‘I want to get the blue towels,’ Ben roared. ‘I want to rescue them because I’m Batman.’

  ‘No no NO.’ Amy pushed him over as she hurtled past him. ‘I do it! Get out my way!’

  It took a while, but Marina eventually had the spare room ready. She sat the twins downstairs in front of a cartoon on TV and gave the bathroom a quick once-over, before vacuuming up the trail of biscuit crumbs that had mysteriously appeared on the stairs.

  Suzanne, the twins’ mum, knocked on the door to collect them.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ she told Marina. ‘Honestly, you’re an angel. I don’t know how I’d manage without you.’

  Marina smiled. ‘It’s a joy having them here.’

  ‘Come on, you two.’ Suzanne clapped her hands together. ‘Let’s get home now, give Marina some peace. Pick up your backpacks and say goodbye.’

  How Marina loved it when the twins wrapped their bare arms around her neck and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The smell of their baby-fine hair and the warmth of their skin melted her heart.

  ‘I’ll see you soon, sweetie.’ She straightened the ribbon in Amy’s ponytail, then said, ‘Oh look at that, your backpack’s open, let me close it for you. We don’t want your treasures falling out, do we?’ Amy was a squirrel who had a collection of shells, postcards, buttons and Sylvanian animals from which she refused to be parted.

  The next moment she glimpsed the corner of something inside the Disney backpack. Her heart lurched and she whipped the photograph out, holding it with the picture side pressed to her chest.

  ‘Amy, where did you get this?’ It was hard to keep her voice steady, normal-sounding.

  Amy instantly looked shifty. ‘I found it.’

  ‘Oh darling, you mustn’t do that.’ Suzanne was mortified. ‘I’m so sorry, Marina. Amy, you must never take things that don’t belong to you. Where did you find it?’

  ‘In a box under the bed. I liked it for a treasure.’ The little girl pointed to the back of the photo clutched to Marina’s chest.

  ‘It’s a special photograph, that’s all. Of someone I knew a long time ago. Sorry, sweetheart, but can you always ask me before you take things? I wouldn’t like to lose it.’ To her horror, Marina heard her own voice go husky. ‘You see, grown-ups have treasures too … but it’s fine, fine … my fault for not putting it somewhere safe … Did you take anything else from the box?’ Straightening up, she slid the photograph between the pages of a nearby book and placed it on the highest shelf in the living room, then checked through the rest of Amy’s backpack.

  ‘Amy, say sorry,’ prompted Suzanne.

  Amy’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘I liked it. Who was in the picture? I sorry.’

  Still shaken but ashamed of her own reaction, Marina said, ‘Sweetheart, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter.’

  Only when Suzanne had ushered the twins out of the cottage was Marina able to breathe normally once more. God, what a close shave that had been. As a rule, no one entered the spare room upstairs, which was why she’d stored the box in there beneath the bed. While she’d been cleaning the bathroom or vacuuming up biscuit crumbs, Amy had found and opened it, and investigated the contents.

  Imagine if she hadn’t spotted the photo in the little girl’s backpack. The thought of it made her feel sick.

  She crossed the room, carefully slid the photograph from between the pages of the book and gazed at it for the millionth time. Yes, she’d made digital copies and stored them online – of course she had – but this was the important one, the original. It was, without a doubt, the single most precious item she owned.

  She exhaled slowly and headed for the staircase. In an hour or two, George would be arriving on her doorstep. Before he turned up, it was definitely time to find a new and improved hiding place for the box she’d been keeping beneath the spare bed.

  Clemency’s breath caught in her throat when the door to Barton and Byrne swung open and Sam strode into the office.

  ‘Oh, hello!’ Her first panicky thought was that it had been a warm afternoon, the last client had just left a whiff of body odour in the air and she really hoped Sam wouldn’t wonder if it was coming from her.

  ‘Hey. How are you? I just called Belle and she’s busy at some salon having a mani-pedi, whatever that may be. So I thought I’d drop by on the off chance, see if I can take a quick look at the apartment and do some measuring up.’

  ‘A Moneypenny?’ Ronan emerged from the back room. ‘Any relation to a vajazzle? Hi, I’m Ronan Byrne.’ He shook Sam’s hand. ‘And I know who you are, because Belle spent yesterday evening showing us pictures of you on her phone.’

  ‘I’ve heard about you too.’ Amused, Sam turned back to Clemency. ‘So would that be possible, do you think?’

  ‘I can give you the key if you like,’ said Clemency. ‘It’s OK, we trust you.’

  Sam replied steadily, ‘I’d rather do things by the book, if you can spare the time.’

  ‘Of course she can,’ said Ronan. ‘We’ll be closing up soon.’ He made a friendly shooing gesture. ‘I’ll take care of everything here. Go.’

  The apartment looked bigger now that it was completely empty. The fast-track purchase had miraculously gone according to plan – which almost never happened – and the exchange of contracts and simultaneous completion was on course to take place on Tuesday.

  Clemency held the other end of the tape measure as Sam took the dimensions of the windows and relayed them over the phone to a curtain-maker in London. He was wearing jeans and a white polo shirt, and it was lovely being able to watch him unobserved while he was dictating numbers into the phone.

  Which, seeing as watching him was all she was ever going to be able to do, was just as well.

  Every little helps.

 
; ‘Thanks,’ said Sam when the task was complete. ‘And a big thank you for showing me this place last week.’

  ‘Bit of an impulse buy.’ Clemency smiled.

  ‘I’m very glad I acted on impulse. I like everything about this flat.’ He paused. ‘I like everything I’ve seen about St Carys. It’s all good.’

  Clemency nodded brightly; she was going to have to get brilliant at this. ‘I told you, it’s a fantastic place to live.’

  For a couple of seconds the silence stretched between them. Then Sam leant against the kitchen worktop and said, ‘I wish you weren’t Annabelle’s sister, though.’

  Oh God.

  Clemency attempted to conceal her true feelings with flippancy. ‘Trust me, over the years I’ve often wished that. But I am.’

  ‘Look, I need to say this. I can’t pretend it didn’t occur to me.’ His dark eyes were fixed on her, unwavering. ‘I really like Annabelle, but it did cross my mind that you and I had that connection, and if things didn’t work out between me and Annabelle … well then maybe—’

  ‘No,’ Clemency blurted out, ‘you mustn’t think that. It can’t happen, it can’t ever happen.’

  ‘It’s OK, I know. She told me why not. I’ve heard the whole story. She called me last night after your evening in the pub with Ronan.’

  ‘It means a lot to me,’ said Clemency, and this time she absolutely meant it. ‘It’s one of those things I’d never go back on. I just wouldn’t.’

  ‘Well that’s very … honourable.’ Sam nodded. ‘Good for you.’ Wryly he added, ‘Bad for me.’

  ‘To be fair, I never thought it’d be an issue. All these years and I’ve never once been remotely interested in any of Belle’s boyfriends.’

  A faint smile. ‘No? Why not, what were they like?’