So Robyn notices more than she lets on. ‘It’s fine. Well, not fine …’ It’s hopeless lying to my cousin; she knows me too well. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to turn up like that though I did try to warn Isla. I’m sorry I shocked you and Uncle Rory though by crashing his birthday do.’ I pat Dexter’s silky mane, avoiding Robyn’s eyes. ‘How was Isla after I’d left the party?’
‘What do you think? Relieved you’re home safe. She was out of her mind with worry when we hadn’t heard from you for a while.’
‘Yeah. It looked like it. I had her engagement party invitation this morning.’
‘Oh Cal. Don’t be like that. Isla was gutted, she couldn’t eat or sleep properly for the weeks after you left, and when you never replied to our latest emails …’
A lump sticks in my throat. Does hearing that Isla suffered make me feel better or worse? Is it real love, wanting her to have suffered?
‘She seems to have got over it.’
‘She even emailed the charity but they said you were working in a remote location and couldn’t be contacted. Luke was worried as well.’
‘I’ll bet he was.’
‘This must be so hard for you.’ Choosing to ignore my sarcasm, which is probably a good thing for both of us, Robyn stops the horse, reaches over and touches me. Her fingers linger on my forearm, soothing, gentle. Once this act of kindness would have touched me deeply but that was before I learned that the only way to survive is to kill every feeling and become stone. I can’t answer her, and she takes her hand away from mine.
‘Are you sure you’re OK? You look so thin. Did something terrible happen to you out there?’
I pause, weighing up how much I can tell her and how much of that can be the truth. ‘I’m fine. I was just wrapped up in helping people.’
‘Oh Cal, I can’t even imagine how awful it was.’
‘Then don’t. Thousands of people have died or lost their families and homes in the wars. I’m here in one piece and I have all this.’ I scrape up a smile and wave in the direction of the tumbledown cottages. ‘Now, for God’s sake, tell me how you are and what you’ve been doing. I’ve a lot of catching up to do.’
While we walked the horses along the cliffs, she fills me in on her latest escapades. It’s comforting listening to her chatter about her jewellery design course and the fact she’s working part time in the Tinner’s to annoy Uncle Rory and earn some money of her own. She’s twenty-two now, and she ought to have her independence but she’s drifted from one thing to another since she left uni and I think it suits my uncle to keep her at home. She deserves a break: stability, love, excitement and happiness – whatever it is she’s looking for.
We urge the horses over the stream and onto the sand of Kilhallon Cove. At high tide, the beach is a sliver of pebbles but at low tide, like now, it’s a long strip of flat sand. The tang of seaweed and salt hangs in the air, reminding me of the times I rode here and made love to Isla.
Clouds gather over the sea but the weather front is on its way north of us. It’s going to be a bright day and the longer hours of sunlight have brought out the primroses in the hedgerows around the park. I’d forgotten how seductive this place could be, even in the state it is now. ‘It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it?’ Robyn says.
‘Yes. I was going to ride over to Bosinney.’
‘To see me?’ Robyn says, mischievously.
‘Of course, and my uncle.’
‘He and Luke are back in the office in Truro today. Were you coming to see Isla too? She’s visiting Bosinney; she’s thinking of using it in her new series.’
‘Is she?’
Robyn isn’t stupid; the opposite, in fact, and I feel ashamed.
‘Dad can do with the money even though he doesn’t want the disruption. Isla’s asked her director of photography to come down and take a look. She’s meant to be on holiday but I think she’ll spend most of the time scouting locations.’
‘I read about her success in the paper on my way here.’ I don’t add that I’ve since wasted way too much time googling Isla on the new laptop.
‘She’s amazing. Did you know one of her productions was nominated for a BAFTA? She’s a joint director of her own production company now.’
‘I bet her mother and Luke love that.’
‘Isla’s mother can’t talk of anything else but Luke’s more interested in making money these days since he became a director of Dad’s company. They’re playing the stock market, and making some high-risk investments – you see, they offer business and financial planning to the clients now, as well as doing the books.’
‘Luke didn’t used to be so money-oriented. Are things OK with the business?’
Robyn pulls a face. ‘I don’t know but I worry about them both. Luke’s young and I suppose he can take a few hits but Dad isn’t getting any younger. He had treatment for an ulcer last year and stress isn’t good for him, even though he’s on the mend. I’m not sure he really knows what Luke gets up to, but they’ve become like father and son since Luke’s dad died last year. I think my dad feels he owes it to Luke’s father’s memory to support him.’
‘I’m sorry Uncle Rory’s been ill. Do you mind Luke getting so close to him?’
Robyn reins in the horse and shrugs. ‘It wouldn’t make any difference if I did. I’ve grown up with Luke, just like you have, and I suppose he was already like a brother to me, just like you are, Cal.’
Her comment makes me feel emotional. Did I say I had no capacity for feeling left? I must be going soft again. ‘How does Isla feel about all this?’ I ask.
‘I’m not sure how much time she has to get involved. Her work normally takes her away from Luke and Cornwall a lot.’
‘Funny. She used to hate it when I went away.’
‘I guess she had to get used to it when she started running her own company and you were off the scene.’ Robyn sighs and stares out to sea. ‘That was harsh. I’m so sorry, Cal. I wish I could turn back the clock.’
‘Not harsh. True and no one can turn back time.’
We ride up the path and walk the horses past an old engine house back towards Kilhallon. Crows caw and wheel around the broken chimney stack. There’s probably a bird of prey around somewhere, judging by the noise they’re making.
‘Polly told me you’ve taken on some new staff,’ she says as we guide our horses through the derelict cottages towards the amenity complex.
‘News travels fast.’
‘Is that the new girl I saw walking her dog into the complex when I rode past yesterday morning? Skinny with long chestnut hair?’
‘Probably.’
‘She looks about sixteen.’
‘She’s twenty-one, almost the same age as you.’
‘Polly says she was homeless.’
‘How does she know that?’
‘I don’t know. Village grapevine?’
I soften my tone but St Trenyan gossip never changes. God knows what they’ve made up about me, though it can’t be any more outlandish than the truth I suppose.
‘Not exactly. Demi was working at Sheila’s Beach Hut but was looking for a fresh start with accommodation. She’s had catering and um … other hospitality experience. She needed a break and I needed staff. End of.’
We ride along the edge of the cliff now and a gull swoops low, startling Robyn’s horse but she soon regains control and carries on as if nothing had happened. She’s far more confident than before I went away, with the horse at least. I’m not sure she’s happy, though, and I don’t quite know why.
‘We were a bit surprised that you’d moved that quickly. Are you really planning to re-open the park again soon?’
‘It’s either that or let the whole place rot, and we could do with some jobs round here from what I saw in St Trenyan. It could just be me, but it looks more run-down than before I went away. I can’t sit on my arse letting the park go downhill even further when I could do some good with it.’
‘I’m not criticising, Cal. I�
�m right behind you and if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I didn’t only come over to share the gossip. I also wanted to ask you to a party.’
I burst out laughing. ‘I’m not in much of a party mood.’
‘I know that but this is important. It’s a charity ball at the Dolphin Country Club in aid of a homeless charity.’
I laugh at the irony. ‘Thanks, but I’m too busy trying to get the business back on its feet. You know what they say: charity begins at home.’
‘You don’t believe that!’
I urge the horse to a trot and the ocean grows closer, the waves like the hooves of a thousand horses galloping to meet us.
‘I haven’t said when this ball is yet,’ Robyn shouts to me.
‘Whenever it is, I’m too busy.’
She catches up with me easily. ‘This event will be good for your business. My friend says all the local “great and good” will be there.’
‘There you are then: I don’t count as either.’
‘Argh, Cal, you drive me nuts. Say you’ll come? You can take me with you, as there’s no one else worth going with.’
My jaw aches from trying not to smile. ‘Won’t that be like going with your brother?’
She wrinkles her nose. ‘No, this would be more like going with my gay best friend.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Go on, you know you’re tempted. You love to shock people.’
I laugh, wondering if she has any idea what I might have done while I’ve been ‘away’.
‘I haven’t upset you, have I? Dad says I never think before I speak and I talk too much … Luke definitely thinks so. He told me.’
‘Then they’re both talking out of their arses and Luke should shut up.’
‘Maybe they’re right.’ She laughs but I feel angry with my uncle and Luke.
‘Be yourself, and screw anyone who doesn’t like it.’
‘That’s not always so simple. I haven’t got a proper job apart from working in the Tinner’s and I can’t afford my own place yet.’
I think of the cottages on the estate and the fact I let Demi have one, but I can’t afford to give away any more of them and besides, I can’t interfere in Robyn’s life; she needs to stand up to my uncle and make her own way.
‘So, you’ll come to this charity do? You’d be doing me a massive favour.’
Her voice is light but holds an edge of desperation. I get the feeling there’s something she’s not telling me.
‘I’ll think about it.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Cal said there was work to do here, he wasn’t joking. Over the past few weeks, he’s been to Truro and St Trenyan, meeting with his old contacts to try to raise extra investment in the new resort. Polly has been moaning even more than usual about the ‘bloody strangers’ poking around in the derelict farm buildings and cottages and tramping in and out of the farmhouse in muddy boots.
I think it’s exciting, and at least Cal seems wrapped up in the business, rather than getting slowly pissed in his study all evening. I was researching more competitor parks, but Polly asked me to take the empty beer and whisky bottles to the recycling bins in the morning. I don’t want to judge people but I don’t think the booze helps his mood much.
Talking of which, I finally found out why he acted like the world has ended when he received The Letter. Polly told me that it was an invitation to his ex’s engagement party. Turns out this Isla and Cal were crazy about each other but when he came back to Cornwall, he found out she’d got engaged to his mate. Polly says Isla thought Cal wasn’t interested any more because he’d stopped all contact with her. Polly thinks Isla should have waited until Cal came home and I agree with her on this one, not that it matters to me. There’s no way I am going to rely on some bloke for my future, however much I owe him and however hot he is.
‘Demi?’
Cal meets me by the waste bins. There are dark circles under his eyes, and I think he was working on a business plan until the small hours.
‘I need to go to Truro to see the architect and try to shave some costs from the plans. Can you spare the time to visit the builders’ merchant and get some costs and ideas for the bathrooms and kitchens in the cottages? We need to make a start.’
This sounds like an interesting job so I jump at the chance. ‘Yes, if you want me to.’
‘Good. Be ready in ten minutes.’
Cal dropped me off at the builders’ merchants and I checked out the bathrooms and kitchens, and arranged for the designers to come and see the old cottages. He didn’t ask me to do that so I hope it’s OK. The staff told me it can take weeks to get the fixtures and fittings and we need to compare the estimates. My visit took over an hour so I walked over to Lemon Quay to meet him, wondering if I had time to grab a takeout coffee while I was there.
The city is busier than last time I was here because there’s a food fair taking place, with stalls and vans selling everything from local chocolates and sea salt to fresh fish and even Cornish tea. The rich scents and spicy aromas compete for my attention as I browse the stores, trying to resist buying things that aren’t strictly necessary. Sheila tried to use local suppliers but I had no idea you could get all of this stuff right on the doorstep.
Cal still hasn’t called me yet and I’ve had a decent signal on the work mobile he’s supplied me with and I don’t mind hanging around for a while. I’m enjoying myself far too much and a new idea is brewing in my mind. It first occurred to me when Cal showed me the old storage building on the edge of the campsite, and visiting the fair has cemented the idea in my brain. With a lot of hard work, that building could make a great cafe, especially if it served the kind of delicious local goodies I’ve seen and tasted today. However, I need to do a lot more thinking about how a cafe would work as part of the park, before I share the plan with Cal.
After buying some sardines, fresh herbs and locally grown salad for dinner, I pop into a tiny coffee shop huddled in between a jewellers and a bridal boutique near the cathedral. These little places need all the custom they can get. I treat myself to a flat white and I decide I ought to wander back to Lemon Quay again. The architect’s office is nearby and Cal must be finished soon.
‘Demi?’
A girl about my age, in dark clothes and goth make-up, walks up to me. I’ve no idea who she is although for a split second I wonder if it’s Andi Cade, Mawgan’s timid sister.
‘That’s me. But how do you know my name?’
‘I’m Cal’s cousin, Robyn. You haven’t met me but I’ve seen you walking your dog across Kilhallon Park. Cal told me you were working there now.’
‘Yes.’
‘How’s it going at Kilhallon?’ she asks.
‘Fine. OK.’
‘Good. Cal can be a bit grumpy but we’re all so glad he’s back and he decided to make a go of Kilhallon again. I’m so happy he took on someone to help him.’
‘Me too.’ Robyn seems nice but it’s odd to be having a conversation about Cal, when I hardly know him and I don’t know her at all.
‘He told me you’d got lots of experience in the hospitality business. I’m impressed,’ she says.
‘Um. Did he? Well, I’ve worked in catering and er … leisure.’
‘He needs help. I’d do it but I’m at college, doing a degree in jewellery design.’
‘That explains the pendant. It looks amazing.’
Robyn touches the jewelled silver moon around her neck. ‘Thanks. I love my course but it’s harder than it sounds. Some of the tutors, you know …’
I nod, recalling my experience with some of the ones on my hygiene and health and safety courses. As we’re blocking the entrance of the coffee shop, we move to the relative quiet of the bridal-shop window, which has amazing gowns with no price tags in it.
‘Cal’s here in Truro. I was supposed to meet him almost an hour ago,’ I tell Robyn. ‘He had a meeting with the architect but there’s no
sign of him at the moment.’
She frowns. ‘Oh, really? I’m waiting for someone and she’s really late too. I missed a lecture for this but she wants me to help her choose something for her engagement party, though God knows why. I mean, she likes full-on glamour and look at me.’
I do. Her long purple skirt brushes her DMs and she wears a dark-green velvet top with flowing sleeves. It’s all a bit Guinevere and King Arthur for me but it suits her. Her choppy, cool haircut gleams like a raven’s wing with layers of dark purple, indigo and green.
‘You look fine to me. I shouldn’t change for anyone else.’
‘Don’t you? That’s not always easy, is it?’ She sighs. ‘I think Isla just wanted some company, as well as my opinion. She and her fiancé are wondering whether to commission some Celtic bands from the jeweller.’
At the mention of Isla, I realise that the ‘friend’ is Cal’s ex.
‘I think I should be getting back to Lemon Quay in case Cal’s waiting and hasn’t got a signal or something.’
‘I’ll walk over there with you. Isla can text or call me.’
Robyn chats to me about her course and Kilhallon Park while we walk back to the food fair. Although she’s only met me today, she chats away like I’m an old friend which is nice but I’m wary that she’s Cal’s cousin and he’s my boss.
‘I hope Cal’s paying you well and not working you too hard,’ she says.
I laugh. ‘He pays me the living wage and I get the cottage and my meals free.’
‘Hmm.’
I smile. ‘Cal does his best and there might be new opportunities when the park gets off the ground.’ My cafe idea pops up in my mind again. Could it really be viable?
‘I hope so,’ says Robyn. ‘At least you have your independence. I hate having to live with Dad but I’m just a skint student.’
The smell of hot food makes my stomach rumble when we reach the stalls. After tossing my empty cup in a bin, I check my phone and Robyn does the same. There are still no messages or missed calls and it’s now over two hours since Cal had his appointment.
Summer at the Cornish Cafe Page 7