by Robyn Neeley
“I could, but it’s not widely known that I’m here,” he said. “Shane, who’s now the England coach, doesn’t know.”
“Why would that be a problem? It’s the Christmas holiday.”
“I took a racing boat from the shed to get here, without telling anyone.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I had to get away, personal reasons.” His mouth shut tight.
It was because of his fiancée leaving him, he must have loved Imogen to react so drastically; all this time she’d been comforting herself with silly thoughts about what they once had. Of course he loved Imogen, he asked her to marry him.
To hide her expression, she bent over her tea, it was time to forget Daniel and think about the gala, because if that failed, she’d humiliate herself in front of everyone in Haven Bay. Getting a sportsman like him to open it would increase publicity and visitors, but he was right about the dinghy theft being a problem. Racing dinghies were worth a fortune and shouldn’t be left tied to the jetty during the winter. If his sponsors found out, he’d be in serious trouble and she didn’t want that to happen.
“Why don’t you just return it?” she said.
“The mast was damaged on the way here; I barely got into the harbour. There’s no way it would get back to Padstow.”
“I saw you.” She remembered. “The waves were crashing against your boat, you were lucky not to capsize; the lifeboat was out rescuing a fishing trawler. So dangerous, Daniel. Are you trying to kill yourself or something?”
“I don’t think so.” He gazed at her, making her jump.
Turning her head away, she cleared her throat, hands sweating. She mustn’t react to him in that way; Daniel dated models and TV presenters, not shop girls. But he reached out and took her hand, curling his fingers tight around hers.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
His flesh was warm and skin calloused from holding sailing ropes. Taking a deep breath, she drew her hand back and rested it on her lap under the table, still tingling from his touch. He must be on the rebound from Imogen, depressed and assuming she’d comfort him — any port in a storm. Well Daniel was going to get a nasty shock; she wasn’t stupid enough to get involved with him again, her heart couldn’t take another break up.
She sat up straight. “The children’s sailing starts at one o’clock for the Winter Gala, you’ll need to supervise the last check point and be on hand in case of any disasters. Russell has offered the use of his boat to view from.”
“I haven’t seen him for ages.”
Carly stared at her hands; it was her fault that Daniel didn’t have much contact with his childhood friends any longer. It was time for them both to sort out their issues; it wasn’t fair to make it difficult for him to see his family.
“Russell’s doing well,” she said. “Set up a sports company. He’s got a stall at the gala as well, which he says is going to sell lifejackets and wetsuits in support of the appeal, but I suspect there will be a few advertising boards and leaflets appearing as well.”
Daniel laughed. “He always was very determined. I’ve missed everyone here, I feel like the character in that myth who vanished at sea, then returned to find everything different. When I thought of home, I pictured it the same as when I went away, but even Haven Bay changes. There are new smart coffee shops and upmarket restaurants.”
She nodded, her cheeks reddening. He wasn’t trying to make her feel guilty, but it was uncomfortable to hear him talk like this.
“You’ll be able to catch up with people at the gala,” she said, “when you’re not stuck on a boat supervising the children’s race, anyway.”
“I’m looking forward to it, I like encouraging young sailors. Could you join us on the boat? Or will you be too busy?”
Carly drew her breath sharply between her teeth. She’d assumed the Haven Bay gossip mongers had told Daniel that she didn’t go out on the water any longer. Well, she wasn’t going to tell him now, there was a limit to how pathetic she wanted to look in front of him.
“It’ll be a busy day,” she said, “and if things go wrong, I’ll get the blame.”
“Did you plan all this?” He sounded surprised.
“It was the only way I could think of to raise enough cash. Haven Bay’s so popular with tourists in summer, I thought I’d try and pull a few visitors in for the winter season.”
“You used to hate tourists.”
“I run a shop and without the summer trade, I’d be bankrupt. I like tourists now.” She smiled. “Bring them all down here! I’ve done my bit toward keeping them safe.”
“So it’s only their money you want?” He grinned.
“Haven Bay would have been a ghost town many years ago without our visitors. In winter, the trawlers go out into the Atlantic to bring back mackerel and prawns, and in the summer, we sell ice-creams, fishing trips, and dodgy T-shirts with, ‘I Love Haven Bay,’ across the front, a number of which I am personally responsible for.”
“I couldn’t imagine your shop selling anything so tacky.”
“Have you seen it then?”
“When I first arrived, though I didn’t realise it was yours then; a smart place.”
“I did a retail course at college and noticed there was a gap in the market for good quality gifts and souvenirs. We’re attracting a lot of young, well-off families now, who come here to surf. Though I also sell buckets shaped like castles and large shells in summer, which certainly never came off the beach here.”
“Do you like running it?”
She hesitated. “I do. Originally it was a means to support myself, but I enjoy chatting to people, especially as I live alone.”
“Do you?”
“Who else did you expect me to live with?”
He looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t know if you had a boyfriend, Ali wasn’t sure. She said you were quite private.”
“I haven’t got one.” She toyed with her cake fork. “Not at the moment.”
“So you’ve had relationships?”
She looked up. “Yes, Daniel, I’ve slept with other men.”
He reddened and shrugged. “Of course you would, you’re beautiful, I expect you have lots of offers.”
“Not so many, I also walk with a severe limp and have a reputation for being difficult. A few brave souls tried, but there’s no one special. I don’t mind though, I’m accepted in Haven Bay now. Once my mother left, people started being much kinder, mostly due to Mick. He took responsibility for helping me, he’s like the father I never had.”
“I’m glad.” He stared at the salt and pepper shakers. “I was worried about you when I left, if I’d known you were struggling for money, I’d have helped.”
“I don’t do hand outs; a year of disability allowance was enough for me. Once I was well enough to work, that’s what I did; it gave me pride and confidence. My mother never had a job and I wasn’t ending up like her.”
She looked at his sweater, dark blue cashmere with a designer logo. What did he know of struggling? Swallowing the last mouthful of her tea, she reached for her cane. “I’m dropping in at the lifeboat station on my way home, would you like to come? See what we’re raising money for?”
“I should, if I’m going to talk about it. I doubt it’s the same crew I used to know.”
“So you’re thinking of opening the gala then?”
“I might, it depends on if I can get the dinghy sorted and returned to Padstow. I’ll ring Shane tonight and let him know the boat’s safe. At least, partly safe.” He smiled. “I’ll have to pay for the mast.”
“You could borrow a boat trailer from your uncle and drive it back.”
“Good idea; will you come with me?”
He spoke so fast, she jerked back.
“Come on, Carly,” he said,
“it’s a heavy boat, I might need a hand.”
“I doubt I’ll be much use.”
But if she helped with the dinghy, he might agree to open the fête, which would attract more visitors. Duncan would love to see her booted off the fundraising committee if the day failed.
“All right, but I’m not lifting that dinghy, you’ll have to do the dirty work yourself,” she said.
“Says a girl who used to be permanently covered in oil and mud.”
Her smiled faded. Why did everything have to come back to the past? To the way she used to be. Soon he would ask if she still sailed and when she explained, he wouldn’t understand, to Daniel sailing was as natural as walking. She pushed her chair back and reached for her bags.
“Don’t you want your cake?” he said.
“I’m not hungry, you have it.”
“We can share.” Scooping up a forkful, he held it out to her and she hastily took hold of the handle. Having him feed her would be too intimate. The cake was rich and moist in her mouth and she reached for the dregs of her tea to wash it down.
“Right,” she said, lifting her bags.
“Let me carry those, if you want me to, that is.”
She smiled and held them out; it would be easier to walk without them.
• • •
Daniel looked at the lifeboat station sitting beside the beach. It had been rebuilt since he was last here, the wooden shed replaced by smart brickwork and a long ramp, which ran directly down to the sea. Shells crunched under his boots and he breathed in the familiar scent of salty sea breeze and decomposing seaweed. An orange inshore boat bobbed beside the slope, a dry suit flung over one seat, it was a measure of how important the lifeboats were viewed here that no one had stolen it.
“Looks good,” he said, over his shoulder to Carly.
She nodded, pulling her stick out of the sand as she walked along the beach. He stepped over to help, but before he reached her, a man appeared from behind the building and took her arm. Daniel drew a sharp breath, before narrowing his eyes; it was Liam. When he left Haven Bay, Liam had been a spot covered youth with a permanent scowl who, Daniel had privately believed, would get no further then jail. He must be about eighteen now, a foot taller than his sister with hair dyed fashionably yellow at the tips.
“Liam,” Daniel said, holding out his hand.
Carly’s brother ignored it and from the expression in his eyes, he could tell Liam was as eager to forgive him as she’d been. The Roberts family had a strong line of stubbornness, but for her sake, he’d make an effort.
“What are you doing now, Liam?” he said.
“Bit here and there,” he answered.
“He’s starting work on the fishing trawlers, aren’t you?” Carly said. “And volunteers in the office at the lifeboat station.”
“I joined the Padstow life crew,” Daniel said. “I don’t go out so often now though.”
“Busy training?” she said.
He nodded, not wanting to explain that every time they plucked a casualty from the seas, he imagined it was her, hair flowing wet behind her, face white and unmoving. It made him reckless, risking everything to save the victim and you couldn’t have that in a team; it put other people’s lives at risk.
The lifeboat station door opened and a man glanced out at them, a blue tattoo down one cheek and bulging arms stretching the thin t-short he wore. Daniel glanced at his own thick jumper and shook his head slightly.
“Carly, love!” Stepping out, the man hugged her tight. “What good news do you have for us today?”
Laughing, she detangled herself. “Daniel, this is Mick, coxswain of the lifeboat crew.” She turned to the tattooed man. “I’ve come to add an extra £400 to the pot, raised by our Christmas singers.”
“Brave lot, I’d not stand in a street singing, couldn’t be that cruel to anyone.” Mick smiled, showing rows of fillings. “And Daniel, I heard you were back, well done on that medal.”
He shook his head, being congratulated for a gold medal by a man who risked his life saving others was embarrassing.
“Come in,” Mick said. “I’ve just been sorting the equipment.”
Daniel followed him into the curved boathouse and stood in front of the gleaming orange lifeboat, breathing in the familiar smell of oil and dried seawater. A narrow walkway led to a flight of stairs and tilting his head, he looked up to see a second mezzanine floor, bordered by a black rail draped with waterproof jackets and trousers. Obviously familiar with the building, Carly vanished upstairs, her cane echoing from the metal steps.
“She’s gone to update the fundraising chart,” Mick said, “won’t be long.”
“Is she all right on those stairs?” Daniel said.
Mick laughed. “I’d never dare suggest otherwise.” He looked up at the balcony. “But I’d best help her find the papers, I did some tidying earlier.” He followed her up.
Daniel rested his hand on the boat, there didn’t seem much point in talking to Liam, from the youth’s clenched fists, he still wasn’t in too friendly a mood. Had Carly told people that she’d asked him to go, or did they believe he walked out, leaving her in the hospital?
“What are you doing here?” Liam said.
“I’m not sure, it was an impulsive decision.” Daniel tapped his fingers against the dinghy. Why was he here? It had started as a desire to see Carly, to convince himself that she was all right, but now he didn’t want to leave. He glanced up, hoping to see her walking back down; it felt wrong not to have her by his side. She had fitted back into his life with an ease that both unnerved and excited him. Was this why the relationship with Imogen hadn’t worked? Because deep inside he was still in love with Carly?
“I want you to stay away from my sister, you’ve already destroyed her life once.”
“I think that’s her decision.” Daniel kept his voice level, he wasn’t getting into an argument with Carly’s brother, although part of him was glad that she had someone looking out for her.
“She won’t take you back, not after you abandoned her.”
Daniel thrust his fists into his pockets, knuckles whitening. “It wasn’t my decision to go.”
“She wanted you to leave, I know. But she was hurt and terrified of being a burden, you should have realised that she didn’t mean what she said.”
Daniel remembered her hard eyes, snapping with fury; oh yes, she’d meant every word. Each insult had been planned to cause maximum pain, to ensure he left Haven Bay, and it worked, because for two years he stayed away. That day, he saw a different Carly, one consumed with a rage she couldn’t control.
“It’s none of your business, Liam.”
“It is my business. I spent hours pushing wheelchairs down hospital corridors while she struggled ahead with a walking frame, weeping in frustration when she fell. Do you have any idea how many operations she’s endured, or the terrible pain she copes with each day? No, you know none of that. You left her crying in a hospital bed to continue with your career and glamorous girlfriends, until you eventually return, thinking you can start again where you left off. Well you can’t, we’ve all moved on, there’s no place for you here.”
“I tried.” Daniel said. “She refused to let me into her room, told the nurses to bar me. She made her feelings very clear. I wasn’t wanted, she hated me for what happened.”
“With good reason.”
“Yes, with good reason. It was my fault and I accept the blame, I always have. She wouldn’t be in this position now if it hadn’t been for me and I’ve spent the last two years living with such terrible guilt it’s driven me half mad. But there is nothing I can do to change things, I can’t undo what happened.”
Muted laughter came from the stairs, sounding strange in the tense atmosphere, followed by footsteps and the clunk of a cane on metal
. Striding to the steps, he watched her climb down, gripping the rail tight, Mick walking slowly in front.
“We’re doing well!” he said, seeing Daniel. “Only another half a million to raise. Are you coming to the sailing club Christmas party? Ten pounds a ticket with half going to the lifeboat station.”
“I’m not sure.” He glanced at Carly, but she had bent her head to look at the last step, crimson hair falling over her features.
“It wouldn’t be your type of thing, beer served in plastic glasses, bowls of crisps and sausage rolls,” Liam said.
“Do you think I live off champagne and oysters? Thanks, Mick, I’d love to come.” He pulled a ten-pound note out of his wallet and held it out.
“Excellent, let me get you a ticket.” He strode off and Daniel glanced at Carly again. Was it his imagination, or did a brief smile flick across her lips?
CHAPTER FOUR
“Come and join us, Carly,” Linda called, over the music blasting from the speakers and stamping of partygoers on the dance floor.
Carly let the door swing back and stepped past the Christmas tree, decorated with coloured lights, glancing with a smile at the tinsel dangling from the framed yachting certificates that covered the wooden walls. Haven Bay would never become sophisticated, no matter how many hand-blown glass decorations she sold in her shop, and if she was honest, she preferred it that way. Hanging up her coat on the back of a chair, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of hot sausage rolls, fruit punch and sweat from too many dancing bodies. A few open windows would be good, but snow swirled in the wind outside, coating the pavements with a layer of glistening ice.
Mick waved from across the other side of the room and she smiled back, searching the crowds; Daniel hadn’t arrived yet, or maybe he’d changed his mind; a party in the local sailing club was probably beneath him now.
Actually, that had been a nasty thought. He hadn’t turned up in a posh car, brandishing expensive mobile phones and photos of himself. In fact, he didn’t seem very different, just older, and a little quieter.