by Fern Britton
But, at 4 a.m., Ed had woken her gently and told her to wrap up in warm clothes. She didn’t know how he’d found out about it, but he drove them a little way from the site and they walked through something called Stonehenge Avenue. He told her that this was the ceremonial route to the ancient site and that they were walking in the footsteps of their Neolithic ancestors. He spread his waterproof coat out for them to sit beneath a row of beech trees. And, as the sun rose over Salisbury Plain, Charlotte was left speechless by the breathtaking spectacle of the summer solstice taking place below them. It was beyond words.
As she peered through the drizzle now, Charlotte couldn’t help but reflect the difference in her feelings then and now. She couldn’t imagine Ed doing anything that spontaneous these days. Everything he did was planned and plotted down to the minutest detail. She sighed. What on earth had happened to them?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Sam’s groan from the back seat. ‘Mum, this is so boring! Who cares about a load of old ruins? It’s raining and it’s my turn to sit in the front!’
‘You’re right,’ she said, peering out gloomily through the windscreen at the procession of tourists trudging around the fence. Resignedly, she waited for the children to swap seats. ‘Pass me a sandwich from that M&S bag.’ She took a bite, started the car and pointed it towards Cornwall.
*
They arrived in Pendruggan three hours later. Apart from a false alarm when Alex had shouted that Molly was hanging her head in that funny way she did before she got carsick and they had to make an emergency stop, the journey was uneventful. Alex was in a world of her own, plugged into her headphones, while Sam kept up a constant prattle on the subject of Spike Turner and Casper flips and pop shove-its and nosegrinds. Charlotte was pretty good at tuning him out when she needed to, though she couldn’t help feeling that Sam deserved a more receptive audience – and, if his father could only be bothered to be a more available dad, he’d have one.
They all cheered when the sea finally came into view. By this time the weather had brightened considerably and Charlotte was heartened by the sight of the sparkling blue expanse. She loved the sea, and it always had the power to make her feel good. Everything was better by the sea, wasn’t it?
As they entered Pendruggan, she was thrilled to see that it was a typical Cornish village with rows of robust cottages rendered in local stone, their doors painted in bright seaside colours. Some of them had lifebuoys and upturned lobster pots and nets lying in their front gardens. Charlotte wound down the window so they could hear the loud cries of the gulls that circled above.
In the centre of the village was a green, and around it she could see that all the needs of the villagers could be met: there was a shop, a church with what looked like a beautiful vicarage close by; there was even a red telephone box that actually seemed to have a working phone inside it.
Her satnav directed her to a turning that led to a row of cottages. She drove carefully up the gravel track.
‘Look at that cute one, Mum.’ Alex pointed at an extremely pretty cottage called Gull’s Cry. They drove to the end and Charlotte felt her heart lurch when she saw Ed standing outside what must be their holiday let. It had been over four weeks since they had last set eyes on each other – the longest they’d ever been apart. Even when he’d been filming abroad, they’d always managed to slot some family time into the schedule, with Ed flying home or the rest of them flying out to visit him on location.
She pulled up in front of the cottage; there was no driveway, just a small front garden filled to bursting with lavender, rosemary, hebe and other scented shrubs. Alex was the first out of the car and she threw herself at her father, who hugged her back tightly.
Sam was close behind, chattering excitedly as his father rubbed his hair and slung an arm around his shoulders. Determined not to be left out, Molly bounced around Ed’s legs, yapping excitedly.
Ed waved to Charlotte, waiting for her to join them before ushering the children inside. She was aware that she was taking an age to park the car. Her insides tightened again and she took a deep breath to steady herself, knowing that this flutter of nerves was a precursor to the conversation that she and her husband needed to have.
*
‘What do you think?’ asked Ed, eager for her approval. It seemed to him that the cottage was every bit as perfect as Penny had said it would be. The front door opened straight into a small but perfectly formed living room with a wood burner in the fireplace. It was snug and cosy, with comfy sofas and cushions strewn around, though it had probably taken a lot of hard work on the part of the owners to make it look so casually thrown together. Through the back was a kitchen that had everything a family on holiday could need, and dotted around everywhere were pictures of boats and the sea.
‘It’s amazing, Ed,’ Charlotte agreed, and Ed felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. He’d been on tenterhooks for hours, wondering what she’d make of it.
They trailed after the children as they raced up the stairs to check out the bedrooms, with Molly bringing up the rear. There was a double with an en-suite and two single bedrooms, plus a bathroom.
‘This one’s mine!’ joked Sam about the master bedroom.
‘You’ll be lucky.’ Ed ruffled his son’s hair.
The children bickered good-naturedly over their rooms as Charlotte checked out the en-suite bathroom.
She ran her finger along the side of the antique Victorian bath. ‘They’ve thought of everything, haven’t they?’ she said, clearly impressed.
‘The owners have only recently put it on the rental market and it’s getting towards the end of the season, otherwise we wouldn’t have got a look-in.’ Ed sat down on the edge of the bath and pulled his wife towards him. ‘I think this is big enough for two, don’t you?’
Charlotte gave a little shake of her head, but held his gaze. ‘Looks small to me.’ Then she deftly slipped away from his embrace and headed back out to the hallway, entreating the children not to let Molly jump on the bed.
Ed’s heart sank. The look in his wife’s eyes was guarded, distant, but he cautioned himself not to rush things. It was always like this after a big job away; they needed to find their way to each other again; get the first row out of the way and the first night in bed together – whichever came first, hopefully the latter – then get back to normal. Be patient … Give her some space, said the voice in his head.
Putting on a bright smile, he went to join the others, who were now admiring the view from Sam’s designated bedroom.
‘What do you think that is?’ Sam was pointing to a shedlike structure in a large garden beyond.
‘Penny said it belonged to someone called Tony. Apparently it’s a shepherd’s hut.’
‘Is he a shepherd, then? I can’t see any sheep.’
Ed tried to recall what Penny had told him about the man who lived there, but it eluded him for the moment. ‘I’m sure they must be around somewhere,’ he said vaguely. ‘Anyway, the tour’s not over yet – and the best is yet to come!’ He couldn’t keep the bubble of excitement out of his voice; this was the part he had been looking forward to most.
Charlotte eyed him curiously. ‘Oh?’
‘Come on.’ He slipped his arm around Charlotte’s waist and ushered her to the stairs. ‘We’re going for a little walk and you are going to love what we find at the end of it …’
*
It was by now late afternoon and the sun was starting to sink towards the horizon. As Ed set off with his family in tow, heading past the church and down a path that led to the sea, they could hear the sound of the waves getting closer, and the unmistakable smell of the sea filled their senses.
As they rounded the headland, Ed heard Charlotte gasp as she took in the view.
‘Oh, Ed, it’s beautiful!’
‘It’s called Shellsand Bay.’
Below them a gentle path led down the side of the cliffs to the most beautiful beach. The late sun cast its rays on the clear blue water set again
st a cloudless azure Cornish sky. Ed had been desperate for the weather to be perfect for their arrival; he wanted everything to be just right. Knowing how much Charlotte loved the sea, he turned to see whether Shellsand had had the desired effect. Even after fifteen years together, the sight of her took his breath away. Her green eyes looked bluer with the sky reflected in them, and the gentle breeze ruffled her fair hair.
‘I love it,’ she said simply, drinking in the colours and the rolling cliffs as they tumbled towards the golden sands.
‘I thought you would.’ He smiled as he took her hand. ‘But there’s more to come. Follow me.’
At the bottom of the path, as the beach opened up in front of them, Ed pointed towards a small row of beach huts. ‘Look.’
There were about half a dozen of them, all painted in primary colours. One or two looked as though they could use some love and attention, with faded paint and rusty hinges, but Ed led them to a bright-red hut that had obviously been well cared for. A Cornish flag fluttered from the roof. There was a step up to a small veranda outside the padlocked entrance. Ed took the step, brandishing the key. ‘It’s ours!’
Alex shrieked, her teenage ‘whatever’ face momentarily forgotten. ‘Seriously, Dad, this is awesome!’
‘Come on, Dad, let’s have a look inside,’ Sam urged, leaping onto the veranda.
Ed put the key in the padlock and had to wriggle it around for a moment before it turned.
‘Hurry up!’ urged Sam, jumping up and down with impatience.
‘Keep your hair on!’ Ed turned the handle and at last the door creaked open.
The interior of the cabin was more spacious than it looked from the outside.
‘Cool. It’s like the TARDIS in here,’ observed Sam.
There was an old fifties kitchen dresser in the corner. Charlotte opened the doors: it was full of mismatched crockery. There was a tin tea caddy filled with teabags and little pots containing sugar, instant coffee and lots of other useful things. A kettle sat on one of the shelves and there was a sixties Formica-topped table with two chairs. In the corner, propped up against the wall, were deckchairs, a windbreak, a barbecue and all sorts of other beach paraphernalia. Sam was beside himself when he found a surfboard and a trunk containing wetsuits and snorkels.
‘Dad, we’ve got to try these!’
Ed wasn’t so sure. ‘They look a tad snug,’ he said cautiously. ‘They might not fit …’
‘Dad, they’re made of rubber – they’ll stretch. Besides, you’re thin as a stick insect.’ Sam made a stretchy-rubber face.
‘Well, let’s think about it, shall we?’ Ed had never been surfing and didn’t consider himself to be very athletic. Hopefully, Sam would be distracted by something else before he was called upon to deliver on that front.
‘What do you think of it, Charlotte?’
Charlotte, who was lovingly fingering the bleached wood on the veranda and gazing out at the rolling surf, turned to him, her eyes shining joyfully. ‘I don’t know what to say. I never expected anything like this.’
Ed stood beside her and put his arm around her shoulder, gently pulling her towards him. She didn’t resist, and a moment later her arm found its way around his waist. He’d forgotten how good she felt.
‘It’s an amazing place, Ed. I can’t believe you’ve never brought us here before.’
‘This is the first time we’ve ever had a break in the schedule. Usually I’m so busy the whole time I’m down here, I don’t venture far off the set. I never really thought of it as a holiday place.’
Ed felt Charlotte’s hand drop away from him. He looked down at her face. She gazed out steadily towards the horizon, but said nothing.
‘What are you thinking?’
She was silent for a moment and he held his breath, waiting. ‘Nothing.’ She turned to him and smiled, her smile reaching her eyes for the first time since she’d arrived. ‘Nothing. I’m so happy to be here, Ed. It’s perfect.’
And Ed found himself hoping that this would turn out to be true.
3
Ed was so disorientated when he awoke that it took him a moment to remember where he was. He fumbled for his glasses at the side of the bed, then set about looking for his watch. His mother had given it to him after his father died; despite a few scratches and knocks, it had served him well. It wasn’t a particularly expensive watch – just a stainless-steel Accurist with a mesh strap – but Ed thought it was quite cool in a seventies sort of way. It kept his dad close, though he’d been dead now for over twenty years; cut down in his prime by cancer.
He was stunned to see it was 9.30. How had he managed to sleep in so late? Even when he was at home, he was normally an early riser, so attuned to the hours of a filming schedule that he didn’t need an alarm clock. He must have been more tired than he realised.
It took a moment for it to sink in that the bed beside him was empty.
The previous evening, they’d driven to the nearest town, Trevay. It was a typical Cornish seaside resort and the queue outside the Fairy Codmother fish-and-chip shop snaked down the seafront. They sat on the harbour wall with their food on their laps, the children happily chucking chips to the aggressively hovering seagulls while Molly looked on incredulously as she was denied even one – Charlotte was always pretty strict about not rewarding dogs who begged. Ed waited until she wasn’t looking before giving Molly his leftovers, then they returned to the cottage and he opened a bottle of wine. He’d sipped from a glass while trying unsuccessfully to light the wood burner, while behind him Alex and Sam argued about what movie to watch on Netflix.
‘You decide, Charlotte,’ Ed suggested. ‘The Wedding Singer or Ghostbusters?’
‘Ghostbusters, obviously.’
‘Mum!’ Alex protested. ‘We’ve seen it a million times already.’
‘Don’t drag me into it, then. I’m going to hit the hay anyway.’
‘You’re not going to stay and watch?’ Ed was disappointed, he was hoping that they could have a cuddle on the sofa – get closer again – but Charlotte insisted she was too exhausted after the long drive.
‘I can hardly keep my eyes open. Don’t let the kids stay up too late. Night, you two.’
Ed watched her as she kissed the tops of the children’s heads, then made her way up the stairs. Just before the bedroom door closed, her voice drifted down: ‘Don’t drink all of that bottle to yourself or you won’t be able to sleep.’
The kids drifted off to their rooms before the end of the film and, by the time he had tidied up and made it to bed himself, Charlotte was in a deep slumber, curled up in a foetus position on the far side of the bed. She might as well be on the far side of the world, he thought glumly as he climbed under the covers, wishing the gulf between them would disappear.
Now, he swung his legs over the bed and padded across to the en-suite bathroom. On the way, he caught sight of his naked torso in the large mirror that hung over the dresser. He stopped for moment to study his reflection; he’d never had to worry about putting weight on. He seemed to have hollow legs – ‘nervous energy’, Charlotte called it – but he thought he could see a creeping tyre around his middle. He jabbed at it, trying to remember when he’d last exercised. A few years ago he’d taken up running as a way of getting rid of some of that excess energy so that he could get a good night’s sleep, but over recent months he’d felt so drained and lacking in motivation that he’d abandoned his daily run. Perhaps that was why he was sleeping so badly.
He slipped on his jogging bottoms and yesterday’s T-shirt and headed downstairs. The staircase was narrow and the wooden steps felt cold beneath his feet.
He was surprised to see Sam already awake and engrossed in his iPad. ‘Morning, Sam. Where is everyone?’ He plonked himself down on the sofa next to his son.
‘Mum’s taken Molly for a walk and Alex’s still in bed.’
‘What you looking at?’
‘Spike Turner.’
‘Who’s Spike Turner?’
Sam rolled his eyes and tutted. ‘Dad! He’s the world number-one skate pro and, like, the most awesome dude, like, ever.’
‘Right. I see.’ Though he didn’t. ‘What’s he doing?’
‘Honestly, Dad, do I have to explain everything?’ Sam pointed to the screen. ‘Watch this!’
Ed watched as a man of about thirty five in a baseball cap, baggy jeans and a Superdry T-shirt skated towards a flight of steps, launched himself on his skateboard and coasted down the handrail, before flipping his board 360 degrees, executing a perfect backflip and then landing on his board.
‘Wow!’ Ed had to admit it was pretty impressive. ‘But isn’t it about time he got a proper job – at his age?’
‘Skateboarding is a proper job, Dad. He’s a multimillionaire!’ Sam looked at him with wide eyes. ‘That’s what I’m going to do when I grow up.’
‘How many skateboard millionaires are there?’
‘Loads!’
‘Mmm.’
‘Dad, Pendruggan looks too lame to have a board park, but I saw some dudes with boards when we were driving back from that fish-and-chip shop. Can we go and find it? Please, Dad?’
‘Maybe later. You hungry?’
‘Do bears shit in the woods?’
‘Sam, mind your language, mate.’
‘Sorry.’
‘The full works?’
‘Yes!’ Sam and his dad fist-bumped and Ed headed over to the open-plan kitchen. He hoped that Charlotte had picked up some supplies yesterday, though he hadn’t noticed what was in the large selection of bags and holdalls when he’d unpacked her ancient Volvo. He opened the fridge door – it was a huge American-style one – and was pleased to see breakfast ingredients: eggs, bacon, sausages, mushrooms, plus a few peppers and onions, some milk, cheese and a loaf of bread. There was even fresh coffee in the cupboard. He smiled, relieved that he wouldn’t have to tramp into the village before his caffeine fix.