by Fern Britton
Edward eyed the brown envelope warily.
‘Saw your Jan yesterday about Trevay. Looks like she needs that break, Edward.’ With this parting shot, Bryn slung his jumper over his shoulders and headed towards the exit. For a moment, Edward was filled with the urge to run after him and stuff the envelope into Bryn’s self-satisfied, smug face.
But he didn’t. Instead, he picked up the envelope and looked inside. A careful observer would have seen his eyes widen momentarily, then he opened his jacket and put it quickly in the inside pocket.
He nodded to the barman. ‘Another pint for me and Spence, Pete.’
*
The pain in Greer’s heart was real and tangible. She didn’t know how to make Jesse see her. Want her. She was slim, spoke nicely, dressed with style and had impeccable manners. A miniature of her mother who lived in the fantasy film-star world of the 1950s and 1960s. ‘Greer Garson was the most beautiful and gracious actress of her day. That’s why you have her name. If you’d had a sister, I should have called her Audrey after Audrey Hepburn. But your father and I were not to be blessed.’ Greer was happy to be an only child. Spoilt and petted and treated to anything she wanted. The one thing she wanted now, though, was Jesse, and not even her parents could fix that.
Jesse and Mickey were sitting either side of Loveday on the harbour wall. Greer glanced across at Loveday. They were best friends, of course, but Greer felt sorry for her, really. Loveday, with her ample frame, a face full of freckles and her yokelish ways. She was pretending to read Mickey’s palm. ‘Ooh, now, Mickey. You’re going to ’ave three children and a long life.’ With his hand in hers she traced a line across his palm. ‘There may be some unhappiness in your thirties, but you’ll travel to faraway places and live to be an old man.’
‘’Ow old will I be when I die?’
She held his hand up to her face and squinted. ‘At least sixty-five.’
Jesse was getting impatient. ‘Do me now, Loveday. What do you see?’
‘Well now, let’s ’ave a look.’ She held his hand softly in hers and looked into his sea-green eyes. Without looking at his palm she said, ‘I feel you ’ave met the woman you will marry. There’ll be two beautiful boys and you’ll have lots of money.’
Jesse looked down into Loveday’s mischievous green eyes; it took all of his restraint not to reach out to her and kiss her like he longed to.
‘Is that right?’ They held each other’s gaze steadily and, for a moment, Mickey and Greer faded out and it was as if they were alone on the quay.
‘Aye.’ Loveday wanted more than anything for Jesse to kiss her, but not here in front of Mickey. She adored Mickey and he made no bones about his feelings for her. She’d do anything not to break his heart, but Jesse was the boy she loved and he was looking at her now with such a look …
Greer stepped forward from the cold metal railing she’d been leaning against. ‘Let me read yours, Loveday.’
The spell was broken and Jesse pulled away.
Loveday laughed good-naturedly, ‘OK, Greer. What do you see?’ and stretched her hand towards her friend.
Greer had no idea what she ‘saw’ but she said, ‘Hmm. I see you married to a really nice man. I see the initials C and M and …’ She folded Loveday’s hand into a fist and examined the creases that her palm made by her little finger. ‘I see three children.’
Loveday was impressed. ‘Really? I’d love three children. I wish I had brothers and sisters, but when Dad died … Mum would love to have lots of grandchildren.’
Mickey was thinking who they knew whose initials were CM. ‘Who’s this CM bloke?’
‘Dunno,’ said Loveday, thinking that Jesse’s initials were JB.
Greer helped them to figure it out. ‘Well, it might be MC, I suppose.’
Mickey’s face lit up. ‘Those are my initials!’ He looked as pleased as punch and Greer felt, for the second time that evening, a pang of guilt.
‘Read my palm, Greer.’ Jesse opened his hand to her.
She took it happily, touching his warm, dry skin and smoothing her fingertips over the calluses caused from helping his father on the boats.
‘Well, I see a very happy marriage for you and lots of children. Your wife will love you with all her heart.’
‘Can you see any initials?’ Jesse asked. Greer thought for a moment; she knew she couldn’t say her own so she truthfully said, ‘No. I can’t see any letters this time.’
Mickey let out a big laugh and started to play-fight with Jesse. ‘No letters for you! And French letters don’t count.’
Across the harbour car park, the door of the Golden Hind opened and Bryn Clovelly stepped out. He looked across to see where the laughter was coming from.
‘Greer? Is that you?’
‘Yes, Dad.’
‘Come on then. Time you were home. Your mother’ll be mithering me else.’
The pain in Greer’s heart seared again. The last thing she wanted to do was go home now. Why wasn’t she allowed to stay out, like her friends were?
‘I can walk up later.’
‘Get in the car now.’
Greer was far too well behaved to either make a scene or to defy her father, no matter how crestfallen she felt at having to leave. ‘OK, Dad,’ she acquiesced.
She hugged Loveday, who clung onto her dramatically. ‘Bye, Greer, and thanks for helping me get ready tonight.’
‘Night, G,’ said the boys.
‘Night, Mickey, goodnight, Jesse.’
Greer lingered momentarily and cast a meaningful glance at Jesse, but he was looking beyond her and watching her father as he walked towards his new BMW, casually pointing the automatic key fob at it. Four orange lights flickered twice as the car made a beeping sound and the locks clunked open.
‘That’s frickin’ awesome,’ declared Mickey.
‘Gonna get some on the Honda, are you, Mick?’ laughed Jesse.
Greer walked towards the car and heard more laughter from her friends, knowing that they had already closed the gap that she had occupied. She climbed into the car.
Her father started the engine, steering the car away from the harbour towards home. From the depths of the leather front seat, Greer craned her neck to wave at her friends, but they weren’t looking at her now. Loveday was walking on the sharp upturned stones of a low wall and flapping her arms to keep her balance. Jesse went to help her but, to Greer’s satisfaction, Mickey beat him to it.
As both Mickey and Loveday lost their balance and slipped off the wall, Greer couldn’t help but notice Loveday’s ample bum and bosom wobble as she clumsily tried to regain her balance. Greer looked down at her own slim thighs and taut stomach, feeling pleased with what she saw and vowing that she was never, ever going to let herself end up like poor Loveday. But as the threesome slipped out of view, Greer wondered again what it would take to capture Jesse’s undivided attention once and for all.
4
June 1987
‘Mickey, you want to come fishing with me tonight? Celebrate the last of the exams?’
Jesse was pulling off his school tie as he walked out of the school gates for the last time. It was a momentous day; along with many others he had finished his final O level, and the occasion was marked by the usual flour and egg fight, ended only when the deputy head raged at the rabble-rousers for covering her car in cake ingredients and escorted them off the school grounds. The long hot summer lay, full of promise, ahead of Jesse.
Mickey shook his head disappointedly. ‘I’ve got to help my dad on the boat.’
Jesse put his arm round his friend. ‘Tell you what, I’ll help you and we’ll go out later.’
‘Would you?’ Mickey said gratefully, picking bits of batter off his shirt.
‘Yeah. Donna at the Spar shop fancies me. She might sell us some tins of cider with our pasties.’
Mickey smiled gratefully at his best and oldest friend. They’d navigated school life pretty well together. Football, detentions and girls. He was still hop
elessly in love with Loveday, but she never seemed to take him seriously. He’d found comfort with females who were more than willing.
And now school was over and out. He didn’t have to worry himself with further education. He had no need. He’d been offered a job as deckhand on Our Mermaid, one of the newest boats on the Behenna fleet and skippered by his dad.
Meanwhile, Jesse was being groomed to take over the fleet when his own father eventually retired. He had to start at the bottom, though, and was to be deckhand on The Lobster Pot, the flagship of the fleet, skippered by Edward Behenna himself.
As the boys loped down the hill from school towards the harbour, they heard Loveday’s voice calling to them breathlessly.
‘Boys. Wait up!’ Loveday was galloping towards them, her school skirt covered in flour and rolled up at the waistband to reveal wobbly thighs, her white shirt pulling at the buttons as her bosoms jiggled invitingly with every pace. A little way ahead of her, Greer was jogging effortlessly in her spotless school uniform.
‘Where are you two off to?’ panted Loveday.
Mickey put his arms out to catch the girl he adored. His hands caught her waist and he felt the warmth from under her breasts. She turned her smiling freckled face up to the two boys. Mickey could smell the sweetness of her breath as she asked again, ‘Where are you two going?’
‘Mickey and I have got stuff to do,’ said Jesse, staring into the middle distance with feigned nonchalance.
‘What sort of stuff?’
‘The sort of stuff that don’t need girls,’ Jesse grunted.
Loveday looked crushed. ‘Greer and me thought we could do something together with you two. You know. Celebrate the end of school.’
Greer narrowed her eyes astutely. ‘You’re going fishing, aren’t you?’
Jesse ignored her and said to Mickey over the top of both girls’ heads, ‘You bring the bait and I’ll bring the food.’
‘We can come with you,’ Loveday told him, not prepared to brook any objections. ‘Greer and I’ll be good company for you.’
Jesse shook his head. ‘No. Blokes only.’
Loveday pulled a face. ‘Blokes only? You arrogant arse.’
Mickey laughed and turned to Jesse pleadingly. ‘They can come, can’t they?’
Jesse, who was trying to wean himself off his desirous want for Loveday, thought he might be in with a chance with Donna from the Spar shop later that night. Loveday was a no-go area while Mickey still had the hots for her. But maybe it would be nice to hang out with the girls – they hadn’t all been together for a while.
Damnit, Donna could wait.
‘OK. Seven o’clock at Our Mermaid,’ he agreed reluctantly.
Loveday took Greer’s arm and pulled her away excitedly. ‘What are you going to wear?’ she asked.
‘Jeans, I think,’ said Greer.
‘Me too,’ smiled Loveday.
*
Greer left Loveday at the cobbled corner where her mum had a tiny cottage. Then she walked on past the harbour and out onto the road that led towards the better end of Trevay.
When her father had sold the two trawlers his dad had left him, and bought the small fish market on the quay, he’d quickly turned the ailing business round. He’d taken a small selection of the best of his fresh catches up the M5 and the M4 to London’s swankier restaurants and hotels, persuading the chefs that he could undercut any of their other suppliers and provide better fish. He had worked hard. As soon as the fishing boats unloaded at his market, he paid the skippers the least he could get away with and then jumped in his refrigerated van and personally drove the lobster, plaice, turbot and crab to the back door of the poshest kitchens in the United Kingdom. Gradually he could afford to pay better prices to the fishermen, and that enticed boats from around the Cornish coast to land their catches with him. As business grew he expanded the old fish market, taking up at least three times more quayside and landing space. Now he had three vans every night ploughing the motorways and bringing home the money.
Naturally, the cramped house in the back lanes of Trevay had given way to a modern and airy executive bungalow, and this was where Greer was headed now.
Greer’s mother opened the front door as soon as she saw her turn into the drive.
‘How did it go?’ She took the proffered, and now redundant, blazer from Greer and hung it for the last time on a padded hanger in the coat cupboard, next to her husband’s golf clubs.
‘The English paper was fine and the history paper was everything I’d revised, so I think I’ll have done OK.’
‘You are a clever girl.’ Elizabeth kissed her. ‘I’ve got crab salad for tea.’
‘Actually, I was hoping to go out.’
‘Where?’
‘Fishing with Loveday and Mickey.’
‘Just Mickey and Loveday?’
‘Erm, I think Jesse will be there too.’
‘I see.’ Elizabeth knew all about Bryn’s plan for Greer and Jesse. There had never been any other children after Greer and no doctor could ever tell them why. Elizabeth was not really sorry. Childbirth was messy and dangerous, and once had been enough for her, but she knew how much it unsettled Bryn to think about what was going to happen to the company. Women were taking the reins in business more and more these days, but Greer had never shown the slightest interest – and quite right too, thought Elizabeth. Fishing was a man’s world and women had no place in it. Part of her wanted Greer to marry someone outside Trevay, someone with a bit of breeding; but she supposed that Jesse Behenna was as close as it came to old money in Trevay. Besides, look at Bryn, he’d been just like all the other coarse Trevay fishermen when he’d courted her, but she could sense his ambition and together they had come far. All men could be moulded by a strong woman who knew what she wanted.
‘Mum, there’s nothing to worry about,’ said Greer, interpreting her mother’s interest as concern for her morals. ‘He has tons of girlfriends and I’m not one of them.’
‘But you’d like to be.’
‘Muuum. Don’t. You sound like Dad.’
Elizabeth turned and walked towards the kitchen. Greer followed her.
‘Can I take the crab salad with me?’ She tried to appease her mother. ‘I don’t want to waste it.’
Her mother nodded. ‘Yes. I’ll make a little picnic up. Don’t want you getting hungry and eating chips or you’ll get as fat as Loveday.’ Mother and daughter exchanged knowing smirks.
*
Greer heard Loveday thumping down the stairs before she pulled the front door open. She had teased her hair into a big, orange, candy-floss ball and was wearing a low-cut, sleeveless, fashionably ripped T-shirt, her pink bra partly on show. She was pulling at a fringed ra-ra skirt that was at least two sizes too small for her.
‘Ha!’ she crowed, taking in Greer’s tight white shorts, blue and white striped top and long, tanned legs. ‘I knew you wouldn’t wear jeans so I’ve pulled all the stops out. Hang on while I get my shoes.’
Greer watched as Loveday bounded back up the stairs, her ra-ra skirt lifting with every step and exposing tiny black knickers stretched over her generous bottom.
‘Wait till you see these,’ Loveday called from upstairs, ‘They arrived from the catalogue this morning.’
A few seconds later and Loveday came down the stairs, with as much grace as a jolly pig in electric blue stilettos, gripping the banisters for balance.
‘What do you think to these beauties?’ She bounced off the last stair and posed like a stripper.
Greer couldn’t help but smile. ‘They are very eye-catching.’
Loveday looked at Greer’s flat ballet pumps with sympathy. ‘A word to the wise. You’ll never pull Mickey in those.’
Down on the quay, the warm evening sunshine had brought out the couples with pushchairs and people with dogs. The holiday-makers wouldn’t be down in force for another six weeks so at the moment Trevay still belonged to its locals. The tide was out and the inner harbour was littered
with boats lying on their keels, green fronds of seaweed hanging from their mooring ropes.
Greer couldn’t help but always remember the first time she saw Jesse down here when they were both so young. His skinny brown legs hanging from his shorts and his blond hair falling over his eyes. Now he was a man. Six foot four, broad and muscular. Greer’s feelings for him had intensified over the years. She dreamt about him, he lit up her life when she was with him, but he treated her like a sister. Greer his friend. Not Greer his girlfriend.
Sometimes she wondered whether he had feelings for Loveday. He certainly seemed to enjoy her company, and she knew that Loveday had a crush on him. But he always seemed careful not to encourage her, from what Greer could see. Anyway, how could he fancy someone as chaotic as Loveday? No. Jesse couldn’t fancy Loveday, he probably just felt sorry for her. Mickey fancied Loveday and, one day, Greer hoped, he’d land her. Loveday would be a fool not to go for Mickey. And one day, Jesse would see that Greer was the woman for him.
Loveday jolted Greer from her musings. ‘There they are!’ She pointed at Jesse and Mickey, who were strolling about a hundred yards ahead with fishing rods over their shoulders. ‘Jesse! Mickey!’ she shouted. ‘Come and give us a hand with this.’ She hefted the weighty picnic basket, which Greer had asked her to carry, from one hand to the other, then waved extravagantly to the boys. Mickey, of course, came to help Loveday. His lanky frame, dark hair and sweet face with its slightly large nose and eyes that drooped at the corners a little, reminded Greer of a lovesick greyhound. As soon as Loveday had loaded him up with the picnic basket, she raced off to walk beside Jesse.
At that moment, Greer felt enormous compassion for Mickey. ‘Here. Let me help.’ She took his fishing rod and put it across her left shoulder, then looped her right arm through Mickey’s free one and walked with him.
‘Don’t worry about Loveday. I know how you feel about her. She’ll see sense one day,’ she told him.