‘I’m not sure I know, to be honest. Late twenties, I think.’
Carrie was thirty, Gina thought, mentally ticking age compatibility off her list. Not that an age gap mattered that much these days. ‘And no kids, right?’
This time, Ben lowered his brush and stared at her. ‘Not as far as I know. And I assume he’s got all his own teeth and no criminal convictions, before you ask. What’s going on?’
Gina felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘Nothing.’
‘Right, I forgot,’ Ben said, his lips quirking in amusement. ‘You’re just curious.’
‘If you must know, I’m asking for a friend,’ she replied, lifting her chin. ‘It’s not against the law, is it?’
Ben smiled and continued with his work. ‘No, it’s not.’
There was a small silence, during which Gina worried that she’d said too much. It wasn’t that much of a leap for him to work out who she was asking for.
‘I could invite Davey along tonight,’ Ben went on. ‘If you want to interrogate him in person.’
‘That won’t be necess—’ Gina began and stopped. What better way for Carrie and Davey to break the ice than by dancing together? ‘Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Do you think he’ll be free?’
‘No idea,’ he replied. ‘I’ll ask him when he gets back. How long has Carrie been interested, anyway?’
Gina groaned. Clearly she hadn’t been as subtle as she’d thought, or maybe Ben just knew her too well. ‘She’d be mortified if she knew you know. Don’t tell her I told you.’
‘Your secret is safe with me,’ Ben said, smiling. ‘Do you really want me to invite Davey?’
She decided to come clean. ‘Well, Carrie has already said she’d like to come along. If you invite Davey then they might actually talk to each other.’
‘And then, at the wedding, we can remind everyone of how we brought them together,’ Ben went on solemnly. ‘Although I can’t give everyone a lift – there’s not enough room in my van.’
‘I suppose it’s better if they come on their own, anyway,’ Gina said. ‘Just in case they don’t get on and want to bail out early.’
‘First rule of date club: always have an escape plan,’ Ben agreed dryly. ‘Okay, let me find out what Davey is up to this evening. I’m sure I can persuade him to join us.’
Gina grinned at him: she felt like Cher from Clueless. ‘This match-making business is fun, isn’t it? Have you got any more single friends?’
He threw her an amused glance. ‘A few. Maybe you could organise a singles’ night once the Palace is open again.’
Gina considered the idea; it wasn’t half bad. ‘You know, I might just do that,’ she said. ‘Who knows – we might even find a date for Gorran.’
‘Steady on now,’ Ben advised her, grinning. ‘Let’s take things one miracle at a time.’
Chapter Five
The journey to Padstow took much longer than Gina expected. The roads around the tiny village of Porthcothan were especially clogged, much more than usual for May. As well as blocking the roads, many cars seemed to have been abandoned on grass verges or parked haphazardly on the street and it was baffling.
‘What’s going on?’ Gina asked, peering into the empty vehicles as they passed them. Despite the number of cars, there didn’t seem to be many people around. ‘Why is it so busy?’
Ben nodded towards the road that led to the bay. ‘Haven’t you heard? They’re shooting the latest series of Smugglers’ Inn down there. I suppose these cars belong to the die-hard fans, wanting to get a glimpse of the stars.’
‘Of course,’ Gina breathed, picturing the show’s deliciously dark-haired star, Nick Borrowdale. ‘I didn’t realise it was filmed around here.’
‘They move between locations quite a bit – you can usually tell where they are from the contingent of adoring women swooning in the streets,’ Ben said with a wry look. ‘But the film crew make the scenery look amazing so I can’t complain. I read that loads more people are visiting Cornwall because of the show.’
Gina was sure he was right; Smugglers’ Inn was required Sunday night viewing for most of her friends. ‘I wonder if there’s any way we could get someone from the cast on board with the Palace grand re-opening – you know, cut the ribbon or something.’
‘You could ask,’ Ben replied, concentrating on squeezing his van between parked cars on an already narrow lane. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’
Nick Borrowdale, the brooding star of the show, would probably say no, Gina thought, but imagine if he said yes. People would flock from far and wide to catch a glimpse of him, especially if he agreed to say a few words. But she had no idea how to even contact him, much less convince him to open a cinema in a little seaside town he’d almost certainly never heard of. And then a memory stirred, of a party Gina had attended back in London where she’d met the PR girl who handled all Nick Borrowdale’s public appearances . . . what had been her name now?
Gina racked her brain for several long minutes, then reluctantly gave up. She’d have to ask Max the next time they spoke – he never forgot a name, especially not when the owner had been as attractive as Gina remembered the PR girl being. And with a bit of luck, Max might have a contact he could use to put Gina in touch with her. Who better to cut the Palace ribbon than the heartthrob star of Smugglers’ Inn?
The dance class was being held in a hall belonging to St Merlyn’s church on the outskirts of Padstow. Carrie was already there, leaning against the bonnet of her red Mini and looking effortlessly cool in black cigarette pants and a gingham blouse. That must be the best thing about owning a vintage clothes shop, Gina thought as she waved to her friend; you’d never be short of an outfit to wear.
Ben spotted Davey walking towards the hall and beeped the horn. ‘Just let me park up,’ he called out of the window. ‘Then we can go in together.’
Gina watched Carrie, waiting for her to notice Davey. When she did, it was like watching someone do a comedy double-take. She threw Gina a confused look but had pulled herself together by the time they all met at the entrance to the hall. ‘Hi,’ she said, smiling at Davey. ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘I didn’t know you’d be here, either,’ Davey replied, with a sideways look at Ben.
‘It was a last-minute thing,’ Ben lied blithely. ‘Davey Bevan, meet Carrie Summers. Shall we go in?’
Gina wasn’t surprised when Carrie gripped her arm as they headed through the door. ‘Is this your idea of being discreet?’ she hissed. ‘A blind date? I might as well have a sign over my head that says “Carrie fancies Davey”.’
‘We didn’t plan it this way,’ Gina murmured. ‘Well, not entirely. But it felt like too good an opportunity to miss. You don’t have to dance with him.’
Her friend shook her head as she studied Davey’s rear view. ‘And let some other woman have all the fun? Not a chance.’
The hall was busy; clearly ballroom dancing had a bigger appeal than Gina had anticipated. There was a good variety of young and old, and a reasonable mixture of the sexes too – for some reason, she’d expected the balance to be skewed in favour of women but apparently there were plenty of twinkle-toed men in the Padstow area. The instructor was standing beside a table, checking names off a list. She looked up as Ben approached her.
‘Hi, I rang earlier in the week,’ he said. ‘I’m Ben Pascoe and this is Gina Callaway.’
The lithe, blonde-haired woman smiled. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Mimi. And you’re interested in booking a beach dance class, is that right?’
‘Possibly,’ Gina said. ‘We’re here today to get an idea about whether it might work, that’s all.’
Mimi nodded. ‘No problem. And you’ve brought a couple of friends, I see,’ she said, glancing at Carrie and Davey. ‘The regulars will be so pleased – they like a bit of fresh meat.’
Gina saw Davey’s eyebrows shoot up and Carrie covered her mouth to hide a giggle.
‘Just drop your things on one of the chai
rs and find a space,’ Mimi went on. ‘We’ll be starting our warm-up exercises in a moment.’
Gina avoided eye contact with Ben. ‘I’m not dancing. I’d like to observe, if that’s okay?’
‘I’m afraid it isn’t,’ Mimi said briskly. ‘I encourage all dancers to throw themselves into the spirit of the dance, and having someone watching can often make them feel inhibited.’ She gave Gina a no-nonsense smile. ‘If you’re not dancing, you’ll have to wait outside.’
‘But—’ Gina began.
‘No exceptions – sorry,’ Mimi said, turning away and raising her voice. ‘Okay, everyone, find yourself a space and let’s get warmed up!’
Gina swallowed a heartfelt groan as Ben dropped her an encouraging wink. ‘Looks like you’ll be dancing after all.’
Mimi turned out to be an excellent teacher. She led her students slowly through the basics of the salsa then watched as they attempted the moves themselves, passing through the couples to correct posture and give advice. Gina lost track of Carrie and Davey almost immediately; she was too busy concentrating on getting the steps right and not treading on Ben’s feet or bumping into his chest. They seemed to be holding hands a lot, something Gina found a little distracting – Mimi had explained at the start of the class that dancing the salsa involved two dancers side by side or opposite each other most of the time, often connected by their hands while their feet did all the hard work.
‘The basic salsa steps are a lot like walking,’ Mimi said, demonstrating by stepping forwards and backwards. ‘Move on the one, two, three. Pause on four, then move again on five, six, seven. Pause on eight.’
After another run through, she encouraged the class to try it. Emboldened by how easy it seemed, Gina risked a quick glance around and could immediately tell who the regulars were; they were the ones who looked at home on the dance floor, with good posture and confident smiles.
‘See?’ Ben said, smiling at Gina and causing a faint squiggle of something warm to work its way down to her toes. ‘It’s not so bad.’
‘Now try it with a partner,’ Mimi called and that was where things got complicated. Following the teacher’s lead, Gina had practised moving her right foot forward but it turned out that only the men did that; ladies moved their left foot back first and it took several attempts for Gina to remember. Once she’d mastered that, Mimi introduced a turn and that caused Gina to stumble into Ben’s chest more than once.
‘Now do you see why I didn’t want to do this?’ she asked, feeling her face flood with warmth as she jolted backwards. ‘I’m really not cut out to be a dancer.’
‘Just relax,’ Ben said. ‘Everyone is too busy concentrating on their own steps to notice what we’re doing.’
There was also the fact that Gina could feel Ben’s fingers pressing lightly against her back, and she knew his attention was fixed on her, although all he would be able to see was the top of her head as she stared at her feet.
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ Gina said, observing the ease with which Ben had mastered the dance so far. ‘You’re not the one with two left feet.’
‘You’re over-thinking it. Look up,’ Ben said, waiting until she lifted her head and met his gaze. ‘Now trust yourself – you do things that are ten times more difficult than this every day before breakfast. You can definitely do this.’
Doubtfully, Gina took a deep breath and gazed into his summer-blue eyes. Now that she wasn’t staring downwards, her muscles seemed more relaxed and she could feel a gentle push or pull from Ben’s hands as he guided her through the steps. Looking at him helped too; he was patient and encouraging, and seemed to be genuinely enjoying dancing with her. Gina tried her hardest to loosen up; by the end of the class, she was amazed to realise they’d mastered a whole sequence of steps and danced them to a simple salsa rhythm.
‘You’re a good lead,’ she said, beaming breathlessly at Ben. ‘Have you done this before?’
He shrugged but looked pleased. ‘No, although I suppose surfing helps with the posture and balance. And you’re better than you think. All you need is confidence.’
She fanned her face. ‘I wouldn’t go that far, but I did enjoy myself more than I expected. Thanks for making me do it.’
Carrie hurried over, her eyes sparkling. ‘That was a lot of fun. Davey almost broke one of my toes, but luckily I have nine more.’
Gina glanced over her friend’s shoulder to see a rosy-cheeked Davey heading their way. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘So? Any chemistry?’
‘Maybe,’ Carrie replied. ‘We didn’t stop laughing, if that means anything.’
Gina’s gaze flickered back towards Ben; they’d laughed a lot too. ‘That’s a good sign. Are you seeing him again?’
Her friend nodded. ‘We’re meeting for a drink tomorrow evening.’
A wave of delight washed over Gina. She reached out and squeezed Carrie’s arm. ‘See? My work here is done.’
Leaving Carrie, Ben and Davey to compare notes, she went to catch up with Mimi. ‘Thanks for a great lesson.’
The dance instructor nodded. ‘You looked like you were getting the hang of it.’ She glanced across at Ben. ‘And the two of you look good together.’
Gina felt the start of a blush creep up her neck. ‘Oh,’ she exclaimed quickly. ‘Oh, we’re not a couple. We’re old friends, that’s all.’
‘My mistake,’ Mimi said, completely unruffled by Gina’s embarrassment. ‘Dancing together is such an intimate thing that I’m always seeing romance where there isn’t any.’
‘We really are just good friends,’ Gina said. ‘Now, what are you doing on the second Saturday in June? Please say you’re free.’
‘Is this for the beach dance class?’ Mimi pulled out a diary and consulted it. ‘Nothing that can’t be moved. What have you got in mind?’
Gina explained her plans for the evening.
‘Sounds brilliant,’ Mimi said. ‘And I expect a lot of my regulars would be interested in helping to demonstrate the moves, if you’d like a few more bodies on the beach?’
It was an excellent idea, Gina thought, picturing some of Polwhipple’s residents getting into a tangle. Gorran would probably need one-to-one attention. ‘It’s a deal,’ she told Mimi. ‘If you let me know their names, I can organise complimentary tickets’
The instructor’s eyes twinkled as she smiled. ‘Excellent. All you need to decide now is how dirty you want the dancing to be.’
Rose drummed her fingers on the table in the Mermaid’s Tail, her blood-red nails rattling like machine-gun fire.
‘And you didn’t think to consult me or Gorran before booking this dancing teacher?’ she said, her pale blonde eyebrows drawn with severe displeasure. ‘You just went ahead and did it?’
Gina glanced across at Gorran for support but his gaze was fixed uncomfortably upon his drink. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Today is Tuesday, the screening is just over ten days away and I wanted to be able to include the classes on the flyers. The design of which you still haven’t approved, by the way.’
‘Because they look like they were done in the dark by a five-year-old,’ Rose replied. ‘I know several graphic designers who could do a much better job.’
‘At twice the price,’ Gina countered. She took a deep breath. ‘Look, we don’t have long to build up some buzz for this event. There’s nothing wrong with the flyer design we have – let’s just get them printed and start distributing them.’
For a moment, she thought Rose would dig her heels in. ‘You don’t leave me much choice,’ she snapped. ‘I just hope this teacher is as good as you say she is.’
‘She is,’ Gina said, almost adding, ‘Just ask Ben.’ But she held her tongue at the very last second. It wasn’t a secret that she and Ben had gone dancing, but Gina doubted Rose would take kindly to the news, especially coming from her. ‘How are you getting on with the press? The local paper has been very supportive of the last few events. Any chance of some advance coverage this time?’
‘
I’m working on it,’ Rose drawled. ‘But you’ll be delighted to hear that my mother has managed to secure sponsorship from a major vodka company – they’re going to be supplying us with fifty free bottles in return for product placement and branding before and after the screening.’
Gina blinked. What on earth were they supposed to do with fifty bottles of vodka?
‘And the Proper Cornish Ice-cream company have enquired about being allowed to run a concession,’ Rose went on. ‘We’re just working out terms with them.’
‘What?’ Gina said, thinking she must have misunderstood, and even Gorran looked up. ‘Obviously, Ferrelli’s will be supplying the ice-cream for the screening, Rose, like they do for every film shown at the Palace. Why would we need another vendor?’
The other woman fixed her with a cool stare. ‘Because Proper Cornish Ice-cream are offering us a cut of their profits.’ Her gaze flicked sideways to Gorran. ‘And because the whole point of this exercise is to get you and the Palace out of a financial hole, none of which you disclosed during your application for funding.’
Gina felt her jaw drop. How did she know about Gorran’s money troubles? Had he confided in her? It seemed very unlikely, given the expression of extreme embarrassment he was currently wearing. ‘That’s because it’s a fairly recent development,’ she said, when it became apparent Gorran wasn’t going to defend himself. ‘It’s only temporary.’
Rose sniffed. ‘It’s still a fact, regardless of how temporary it is. Which means that if another ice-cream company is offering us money, we’d be foolish not to take it.’ She paused and aimed a superior stare Gina’s way. ‘I don’t expect you to agree – you’re hardly impartial, after all.’
This time, Gorran did speak. ‘Ferrelli’s has supplied the ice-cream at the Palace for a long time,’ he said, in a tone of quiet defiance that made Gina feel better. ‘And I’d quite like them to continue to supply it – they’re as much a part of the picture house as the films we show. So we’ll say a polite “thanks but no thanks” to the Proper Cornish Ice-cream company, if you don’t mind, Rose.’
The Picture House by the Sea Page 21