What Happens In Cornwall...

by T A Williams

  ‘If you mean, did I come close to throttling the little toad this evening, the answer is yes. Tell me, Lorna, were you aware when you were with him last night that he and I have been dating for days?’

  ‘What do you mean, dating?’ Lorna dropped the cloth on the counter and took a step backwards.

  Sam could see Becky’s anger building up. ‘I mean sleeping with him. I mean taking him into my bed and him taking me into his.’ Sam saw the shock on the other girl’s face, as did Becky. Sam was pleased to see that as a result, Becky’s anger began to abate. There was a pause before Becky continued. ‘I assume that’s the same sort of thing that you and he were doing last night.’

  Lorna pulled out a spare chair and sat down heavily. ‘How long has this been going on?’

  ‘I could ask you the same thing.’ Becky sat down opposite her. Sam stayed at the bar, sipping her cider and watching with morbid fascination as yet another of Becky’s relationships hit the rocks and sank without trace.

  ‘Two weeks. Since he’s been staying at the Island View.’ Lorna’s expression was more of sadness than of anger. ‘And you?’

  ‘Since Monday.’

  ‘This Monday?’

  ‘Yes. All this week.’

  ‘Oh God, I should have guessed.’ She looked up and caught Becky’s eye. ‘He’s a rotten little weasel.’

  ‘You’ve got that dead right.’

  Lorna was putting two and two together. ‘I was supposed to see him on Tuesday, but he put me off. Do you know what he said? He told me he had to see a friend of his who’s a photographer. Something about photographing seabirds.’ ‘Snap. He doesn’t have a lot of imagination, does he?’ Somehow, the knowledge that they were both victims was helping Becky. ‘Sorry for being so aggressive.’

  Lorna gave Becky a weak smile. ‘I could do with a drink. Care to join me?’

  By the time Becky left the pub with Sam and the others and headed back to the guest house, she and Lorna had made peace with each other, but most definitely not with Giancarlo. Sam reflected that it was probably just as well that his bedroom door remained firmly closed all that night. Becky spent the next few hours talking through the whole sorry saga with Sam and they finally got to sleep by about two o’clock.

  Chapter 36

  When Samantha reached the island next morning, she found the abbey jetty guarded by a large man in uniform. He checked her name on his clipboard and settled back down to the remains of a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon that was precariously balanced on his lap. Having just had one of Mrs Pendennis’s breakfasts herself, the sight of the pile of food was not what Sam wanted after a lumpy sea crossing. The wind had picked up a bit during the night and, although the sky was a brilliant blue, there was a swell running. She took a few deep breaths and stepped into the lift.

  She was ushered out of the main gates of the abbey by another guard. Behind her, she heard the door close and the bolt shoot across. She nodded approvingly. Clearly, they weren’t taking any chances. She walked over the springy turf towards the tent. The wind was strong enough to blow her hair across her face and into her eyes. She dug in her pocket for a band and set about collecting her hair into a bunch. She was a bit later than normal in getting to work, but it was a Saturday after all, and attendance was voluntary. She hadn’t had a particularly good night’s sleep, after doing her best to calm Becky down and console her after her discovery that Giancarlo was a two-timing bastard. The fact that this hadn’t come as much of a surprise to Samantha further reinforced her conviction that Becky was to relationships as lemmings were to cliff tops.

  ‘Morning, Samantha.’ It was Simon, the waiter from the abbey, along with a boisterous Labrador, approaching from the direction of the little bay.

  ‘Good morning, Simon and hello, Henry.’ Sam knelt down and petted the dog for a few moments. ‘Did they tell you to be careful what he eats? The photographer said he’d poison him if he could.’

  Simon nodded. ‘If all goes well, the photographer won’t get the chance. We’re planning to nobble him.’ He came a bit closer and lowered his voice. ‘Two of the security men are ex-Marines and they’re going to lie in wait for him if he tries to get into the little bay again. They’re down there setting up an ambush as we speak. Ann is being kept inside today, just in case. That’s why I’m on dog-walking duty. ‘

  ‘That’s brilliant! And you’re sure there’s no other way onto the island?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, no chance at all. Mr Griffiths dug out an amazing old map of the island the other day and this morning, over breakfast, Ann and Dr Courtney went through it with a fine toothcomb. It’s clear there’s just the main jetty or the little cove. Anywhere else you’d need ropes or wings. Of course, I suppose he could try to come in by hang glider or parachute…’ As Simon carried on positing unlikely hypotheses, Sam did her best not to show any reaction to the news that James and Ann were breakfasting together. And if they were taking breakfast together, that presumably meant he had spent the night at the abbey. And if he had spent the night at the abbey, had he and Ann…?

  ‘Are you all right?’ Simon’s voice dragged her back to the present. ‘You looked about a million miles away.’ She managed a smile and shook her head to clear it.

  ‘No, I’m fine thanks, Simon. It was just a bit of a rough crossing and, unusually for me, I had bacon and eggs back at the guest house.’

  He smiled. ‘This fresh air will sort you out. Anyway, remember the little bay’s out of bounds today and tell the others when you see them. The two security men have staked it out.’

  Sam smiled in spite of herself. Simon was really getting into the swing of things. Stake-outs, ambushes, parachutes; he made it sound like a Bond film. And, she thought grimly, James had quite possibly spent the night with the Bond girl. As Simon and the dog continued their walk, she went over to the tent, reflecting that her words to Becky, often repeated over the past couple of weeks, were oh so true. There were precious few good guys left these days. There was no doubt about it.

  ‘Hi, Sam.’ It was Ryan and he was looking flushed. She gave him a warm smile. He, at least, was one of the good guys. She had always thought it and she had been delighted to hear that Becky now agreed with her. He had spent most of the previous evening in the pub comforting Becky until Sam herself had taken over for the late shift back in their room. From what she had told Sam, Becky had appreciated his efforts.

  ‘Hi, Ryan. Are you the only one here today?’ He nodded. ‘Have you heard that we’ve got the Marines here now?’

  He was grinning from ear to ear. ‘Exciting stuff, eh? But that’s nothing. I’ve just been shifting the last of the soil from the floor and, suddenly, we’re up to nine skeletons. No signs of wounds to any of them so I reckon Virginia was bang on the money when she said it might be a plague pit. But,’ his expression became even more animated, ‘That’s not the best of it. Look at this.’ For the first time, Sam spotted a piece of cloth in his left hand. He knelt down and set it on the grass, unrolling it with reverence. As he revealed the contents, Sam gasped.

  ‘Ryan, that’s amazing.’ And it was. She knelt down beside him and stared in awe at the two objects lying on the cloth. Both were clearly gold, shining as brightly as if they had just been polished. One was a heavy, embossed ring and the other a thin gold chain holding a kidney-shaped locket, made of gold and rock crystal.

  ‘Look, Sam.’ Ryan’s voice was awe-struck. With infinite care, he prised it open. Even after almost seven hundred years, the hinges still worked and it opened to reveal, on one side an exquisite enamel depiction of the crucifixion, and on the other a strange little pointed object, housed in a gold-lined slot. Sam tilted her glasses and bent lower, realising almost immediately what it was. She straightened up in wonder.

  ‘It’s a piece of wood. It’s a thorn from the Crown of Thorns. This little locket is a holy reliquary. Oh, Ryan, it’s amazing. This is the most fantastic object I’ve ever seen on a dig. Well done you.’

  ‘It wa
s wrapped in a roll of cloth that just disintegrated as I pulled it out. It was clenched in the hand of the last skeleton, the one with this amazing old ring. He had to be an important churchman, maybe a bishop, or the abbot himself. He must have been holding it in his hand as he died. This is real treasure, Sam. I’ve never seen anything like it. I was just going to the abbey to show it to Ann Cartwright. It was found on her land so it’s hers of course.’

  Sam stood up again, suddenly less happy. Her thoughts returned to what Simon had told her about James and Ann breakfasting together. She decided to head back to the mainland as soon as possible.

  Ryan’s voice interrupted her train of thought. ‘No Becky this morning? Is she having a bit of a lie in?’

  Sam nodded. Becky had barely opened her eyes while Sam was moving around in the room getting ready. Unsurprisingly, she had decided she was going to take a time out. Sam had seriously considered following suit, but natural curiosity and a desire to see James again had brought her back over to the island. Now, after what Simon had said about James’s breakfast companion, she was already regretting her decision. She did her best to banish the thought from her mind and smiled at Ryan. ‘It’s a lovely sunny day. I think Becky’s planning to go down to the beach later.’

  ‘Sam,’ Ryan sounded hesitant. ‘Do you think she’d mind if I went down and met up with her on the beach this afternoon?’

  Sam grinned at him. ‘I think that would be a very good idea. In fact, I might do the same.’ She had a sudden thought. If she was going swimming she would need to put her contact lenses in. On one unforgettable occasion some years earlier she had taken off her glasses, gone for a swim, and then ended up returning to the wrong towel. The owner of the towel had not been best pleased. Lenses were a must for any swimmers with short-sight.

  Ryan sounded reassured that his plan for the afternoon was acceptable. ‘Right, that’s what I’ll do then. Now, I’d better go and break the good news to Ann Cartwright.’

  Sam and Ryan went down to the beach after lunch and joined Becky. Their news of the discovery of the gold ring and reliquary were greeted by whoops of joy. In fact, Becky looked remarkably happy in the wake of the Giancarlo fiasco. The weather had, if anything, got even better and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. While Ryan went off to buy Becky an ice cream, Sam asked her how she was doing.

  ‘I’m fine, Sam. Lorna at the pub was right; Giancarlo’s a rotten little weasel. It’s just as well I found out sooner rather than later.’

  ‘For what it’s worth, his car had gone by the time we got back from the island. He’s probably left or, at the very least, he’s keeping his head down.’

  Becky managed a smile. ‘He’ll need to if Lorna gets her hands on him. She’s hopping.’

  ‘Anyway, Ryan will look after you. Remember what I’ve always said about him.’

  Becky didn’t have the chance to reply as Ryan appeared with three tubs filled with Cornish clotted cream ice cream. His eyes lit up as he saw Becky’s bikini. When Becky had asked Sam’s opinion of it the previous day, Sam had chosen the word ‘revealing’, rather than ‘obscene’, but it was a close run thing. There was very little doubt what Ryan thought of it. Interestingly, as he pulled off his T-shirt, Becky did a similar double take. He was unexpectedly muscular and she clearly approved.

  ‘Have you been working out, Ryan?’ Sam was also impressed.

  He blushed a little. ‘Erm, yes. I’ve got into the habit of hitting the gym a few times a week. I feel a lot better for it.’ He glanced shyly at Becky who pushed up her sunglasses and nodded approvingly.

  ‘Well, you certainly look good, Ryan.’ The look on his face was one of sheer delight. Sam couldn’t help mentioning Becky’s favourite subject.

  ‘He looks a bit like a Viking, doesn’t he, Becs? After all, Eric the Red wasn’t named for his political affiliation, was he?’

  Ryan produced a bottle of sun cream and started rubbing it onto his body. Becky studied him from the safety of her sunglasses for a few minutes before making his day for him. ‘Would you like me to rub some on your back for you, Ryan?’

  Partway through the afternoon they went for a swim. The water was cold, but bearable, although the breeze soon chilled them. They were just coming out of the water when there was another surprise. James came walking along the beach. He was bare-chested, but still wearing his jeans and trainers, and he looked hot.

  ‘Hello you three. I thought I recognised you there. That’s brave, going in without a wetsuit.’ Sam nodded and grunted. Becky soon made up for her friend’s lack of communication.

  ‘Hi, James. Here for the windsurfing?’

  Sam found herself looking on, impressed, in spite of herself, by his physique. He had muscular arms, a strong, hairy chest and a taut stomach. His eyes caught hers and he saw them drop to her body. She took a discreet breath in and thanked God she had chosen to wear her one really nice bikini. Although, she thought angrily, considering where he had spent the night, how she looked was no concern of his!

  He returned his attention to Becky, his expression once more sombre as he replied to the windsurfing question. ‘I wish.’ He cleared his throat and continued. ‘I’m just off to look for a B&B for the night. My sister and her family are at my place and I thought I’d let them get on with it.’ He caught Sam’s eye. ‘They’ll look after the very demanding cat for me. Anyway, I’ve been looking for you, I wondered if you guys were doing anything tonight. How about meeting up for a drink or a bite to eat? Ryan, are you up for that?’

  Ryan looked across at Becky who replied first. ‘That would be great, James. We normally go to the Smugglers Arms.’ She raised an arm and pointed. ‘That’s it just along the promenade.’ Ryan added his assent and James looked across at Sam.

  ‘What about you, Sam, or do you have plans?’

  Sam was puzzled. Surely if he and Ann had slept together the previous night there was no way he would be coming out for a drink with them tonight. So maybe this meant…? She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least for now. She looked across at him and nodded. ‘Count me in. I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘Great.’ He sounded pleased, and relieved. He glanced at his watch. ‘Right, I’d better go and find somewhere to stay. My stuff’s up at the other end of the beach.’

  To her surprise, Samantha found herself making a suggestion. ‘I’m pretty sure there should be a spare room at our guest house now. I’ll come with you, James, and show you where it is.’ She couldn’t miss the expression of satisfaction on his face. Ryan was looking as if he were about to offer to come along as well when Becky made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  ‘Ryan, I don’t suppose you’d be a dear and rub a bit of sun cream on my back for me, would you?’

  He didn’t need to be asked twice.

  Sam told James all about the amazing find on the island as they walked along the tide line. It was quite a long walk in soft sand and she noticed that he was limping, or at least favouring one leg. When they reached a rocky outcrop, that effectively divided the beach in two, she pleaded tiredness and sat down on a rock. She deliberately chose the only one wide enough for two. He took the hint and sat down next to her, taking the opportunity to massage his knee. A full minute passed before he found the right words for what he wanted to say.

  ‘Sam, could I ask you something?’ She looked across and caught his eye.

  ‘Of course, what is it?’ It wasn’t a big rock where they were sitting and she could feel his skin warm against her arm.

  He cleared his throat. ‘Are you and Miles Vernon an item?’ Her response was immediate. She snorted and shook her head violently. The movement rubbed her arm against his and she savoured the feeling as she explained.

  ‘You must be joking. Not my type at all. Far too flash for my taste. Besides, he told me the other day that he’s madly in love with an old school friend of mine.’

  ‘Ah.’ There was another pause before he asked, just to be completely sure. ‘So the fact that yo
u were holding his hand and hugging him meant…?’

  ‘Meant that I was making peace with him after misjudging his intentions.’ There was another long silence while James digested the implications of what he had just learnt, and Sam summoned up the courage to pose her own question. She glanced out to sea while she searched for the right words. The bay was full of kitesurfers, windsurfers and small boats. Among them she noticed a few kayaks and found herself thinking back to her scary experience the previous month which had led to her getting to know Ann and without which she probably wouldn’t be here now. She took a deep breath. In so doing, this caused her arm to rub up against his once again. This time the touch was not so much warm as electric.

  ‘Can I ask you a question in return?’

  ‘Anything you like.’ He could hardly keep his voice level.

  ‘Are you and Ann Cartwright an item?’ Her voice tailed off. He looked across at her in surprise as she elaborated. ‘I heard you spent the night over there and I just wondered, that’s all.’

  He reached across and laid both his hands on her bare forearm. She felt his touch like a red hot coal and a jolt went through her. His voice was more confident now. ‘No, we’re not. After you phoned with the news of the paparazzo raid, I offered to stay on the island to give Ann a bit of moral support.’ He caught her eye. ‘And we most definitely slept in different bedrooms. All right?’ He gave her a smile and then let his hands run down her arm until he caught her hand in both of his, pulling her gently towards him. ‘Is that what you wanted to hear?’

  She snuggled her head against his bare chest and felt his arm reach round to cradle her shoulders. She could feel his heart beating through his skin. ‘That’s very definitely what I wanted to hear.’ Then there was a long, but comfortable, silence. She didn’t mind. She felt warm and secure alongside him. Somehow, however, she got the feeling he wasn’t so calm. His whole body was very tense. She made no sound, waiting for him to say what was on his mind. Finally she heard him clear his throat again. His voice when he spoke was husky, choked with emotion.