The pub was still noisy but there was a weird buzzing in Mo’s ears. The bar stool seemed to be swaying beneath her backside like the deck of Nick’s boat.
“Will I what?” she whispered.
“Have dinner with me.” Cashley leaned one arm on the low beam of the pub and bent over Mo. Then, voice lowered, he added, “The taking your clothes off bit won’t be obligatory, but you’ll probably find you want to anyway. Women tend to. Especially once you’ve seen my penis… car.”
He’d been winding her up all along! What a bastard! Enraged, and alarmed at herself because for a brief moment there she’d almost believed he was serious – not that she’d have ever eaten dinner with Cashley, no way, she would rather eat hoof clippings first – Mo leapt off her bar stool and hurled the remains of her cider straight into his horrible, haughty mocking face. Abruptly the pub went silent as heads swivelled to catch this latest Morwenna Tremaine explosion.
“You’re pathetic,” she hissed to the dripping Ashley. “Utterly pathetic, and all the money in the world can’t change that! Take the piss if you like but there’s no way you’re getting your grubby hands on Fernside woods. No way at all.”
“Be very careful, Red,” said Ashley. Challenge dripped from his voice just like the cider dripping from his face. “That sounds like a dare to me and I never turn down a dare. And, be warned, I never lose a fight.”
Mo raised her chin. Her heart was rattling up and down against her ribcage and her pulse was racing, but it was a good and familiar feeling: the same surge of determination and adrenalin she felt when she rode Mr Dandy at huge fixed fences that, if misjudged by a split second, would mean the end for them both. Ashley wasn’t the Badminton water complex, she reminded herself sharply. He was just a knob. She could take him on and win. Of course she could.
“And neither do I,” she promised him.
They eyeballed each other, bristling. In the dim light of the pub, shadows played across her adversary’s face and made him appear even more determined. His mouth was set in a cruel line and his eyes were harder than the granite rocks outside.
Then Ashley threw back his head and laughed.
“In that case, Red,” he said softly, a mocking grin twisting his mouth upwards, “you’re on. Let the battle begin.”
Chapter 7
Summer knew that she probably should quit while she was ahead, be grateful she’d managed to go this long without being recognised and head straight back to the safety of Harbour Watch. Yes, this was what she should do, but her dramatic new haircut was lulling Summer into a false sense of security and, as though her feet had a mind of their own, she headed towards the harbour rather than climbing back up the cliff path to her little cottage.
It was early evening now and the sun was slipping into the sea, spilling liquid gold across the waves. The crowds were starting to thin out as the visitors meandered back to the car park or wandered into the restaurants for supper. Music was thudding from the direction of the green, where the majority of the younger villagers would be listening to the band and getting stuck in to the cider. With her sunglasses still firmly in place and the baseball cap shoved down on her dark ringlets, Summer figured she’d be pretty safe down by the quay. She’d just have a look at the boats and see if her brothers were home yet, Summer decided as she crossed the little bridge that spanned the River Wenn. Then she’d go back to the cottage and lie low while she tried to work out what on earth to do next.
By now Justin would have realised that she’d gone. Just imagining his reaction was enough to make Summer shiver, even though the evening sun was still warm. He’d stride through the house, kicking doors open and yelling for her, before smashing something or maybe – a possibility that was even more troubling – remaining icy calm and waiting, white-lipped, for her to return. Summer had seen this enough times to know that she actually preferred Justin to just lose his temper. That way it was over with. The cold and silent treatment was the worst because she never knew quite when it would end. The eventual eruption of rage would be even more shocking due to its sheer unexpectedness. Whatever his reaction, Summer knew he’d be furious. Justin was High Maintenance with a capital H and a capital M, and he expected his fiancée to be waiting for him, not the other way around. Summer had lost count of the amount of times her heart had gone into free fall when she’d pulled up in her Audi only to see Justin’s car already in situ. Even now and despite being over two hundred miles away from him, her pulse began to race.
I’m being ridiculous, Summer told herself sharply. Justin was a bully, albeit a handsome and charming one, and there was nothing he could do to her now. Nobody knew she was here – and even if he did come flying down the motorway to Cornwall, her family didn’t have a clue she was staying in the village, so they couldn’t give her hiding place away. Only Patsy knew she was here, and Justin would be no match for her aunty if he tried to throw his weight around. Just the thought of the dressing down he’d get if he so much as put a foot over the shop threshold made Summer smile in spite of her fluttering heartbeat. Patsy wasn’t impressed by footballers; they were all a bunch of pussies in her opinion. No, she only cared about rugby and her beloved team, the Cornish Pirates. It was time she took a leaf out of her aunt’s book and stood up for herself, Summer decided.
This was easier said than done after years of gradually being worn down, but it was something to work on. She’d met Justin at a bad time; she’d been vulnerable and naïve and, even seven years on, desperately looking for someone who might take away the pain of what had happened with Jake. Nobody until Justin had even come close.
She exhaled wearily. She’d got Jake wrong too, hadn’t she? She’d truly believed he was one of the good guys, had thought that he loved her just as deeply as she’d loved him. But it had turned out that when the chips were down and she’d really needed him he was no different to any of the other lads just looking for a laugh on a Saturday night.
Do I really have such awful instincts? Summer wondered sadly, walking along to the end of the quay and turning to gaze back at the village. Or had she wanted something to be true and good so badly that she’d closed her eyes to the reality? Justin had been wonderful at first and she’d been thrilled to be with him. Together they were Summer and Justin, the coolest celebrity couple around. Their faces had sold everything from supermarket party food to high-end watches, and she’d been happy to let Justin make the decisions and plan their life together. That was what a loving fiancé did, after all.
Retracing her steps along the quay, Summer sighed. She wasn’t quite sure when it was that she’d realised that Justin was controlling her, what jobs she took, what she wore, whom she could spend time with. She was just another of his possessions, like the flash cars, the houses and the Rolex – something he could show off to people and then put away again. He wasn’t interested in her as a person. In fact Summer had soon realised that Justin wasn’t interested in her at all, unless she was dressed up and hanging off his arm. He didn’t care what she thought about things or what she wanted to do; all he’d really been concerned with was adding Summer to his collection of things everybody else wanted. He’d never frightened her back then though; that had only started when Summer had dared to voice her doubts about their future.
Summer was so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed a slender girl burst out of the pub and fly down the steps in a blur of flaming red hair and green gilet. It was only when this figure blocked her way that Summer was ripped out of her uncomfortable memories with a jolt.
She froze in shock when she realised who was standing in front of her – Morwenna. Her heart lurched, first with an instinctive happiness before dread rushed in. Mo looked almost exactly as she had the last time they’d spoken, wild red hair tumbling about her shoulders in a fiery halo, blue eyes gas-flame bright with anger and her small hands clenched into fists as she fought to keep a lid on her emotions.
Those same eyes narrowed when Mo saw Summer. The cropped hair and big shades didn’t
fool her for an instant. Of course they didn’t. The two girls had once been closer than sisters and although they no longer spoke their history ran through them just like the river than ran through the village.
“Just bloody great.” Mo raised her eyes up to heaven. “Somebody up there must really have it in for me today. It’s true what they say: the holiday season really does bring the dregs down to the village.” She swept a scornful gaze over Summer and wrinkled her freckled nose. “Winter can’t come soon enough for me.”
Summer hardly noticed these harsh words; she was far too busy drinking in the sight of her old friend. In an instant the years peeled away and memories were tumbling through her mind. Giggling together over teen magazines, raft races in the icy sea, coughing over their first crafty cigarettes in the bus shelter at the top of the village…
“Mo! I can’t believe it! You haven’t changed at all!”
Mo’s top lip curled. “You have.”
Ouch. That blow certainly hit home. “Patsy said you own the yard at the top of the village now? And that you’re eventing?”
Summer ploughed on bravely even though the disdain in her old friend’s expression felt like a sucker punch to the guts. “That’s so brilliant. All your dreams have come true!”
Summer was talking too fast and she knew that it probably sounded like nonsense, but she couldn’t help herself. There was so much she wanted to say to Morwenna that she didn’t know where to begin. Perhaps they’d be able to talk everything through, she thought with a little leap of hope, and they could put everything that had happened behind them and be friends again?
Mo crushed these hopes in a heartbeat.
“Been spying on us all, have you? My life has nothing to do with you, nothing! You made it abundantly clear what you thought when you left us all behind without even looking back. And now you’ve got the nerve to stand here and chat away like nothing ever happened?” Mo’s voice was getting louder. Several tourists turned and stared. Even the seagulls seemed to pause mid squawk. “Have you any idea what damage you did to our family? How dare you stand there and patronise me with all your talk about how well I’ve done!”
They were several feet apart but, even so, Summer stepped back. Her heart was racing.
“I’m sorry, Mo. That wasn’t what I meant at all. I really don’t want to rake up the past.”
“Really?” Mo snorted. “Just come back to gloat then?” She glanced around in an exaggerated fashion. “So come on then, where’s the entourage? The loaded career-enhancing footballer fiancé? It’s funny, Summer, I never had you down as a WAG but I guess that Justin Anderson is far more your type than the decent, honest guy you turned your back on without a second glance. He’s got money and fame, after all – and that was what meant more to you, wasn’t it?”
“That’s not fair, Mo. It wasn’t like that at all. Please, can’t we leave all this in the past?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mo shot back. “For everyone to pretend that it really didn’t matter at all now that everything is great for you?”
Summer’s vision blurred. If only she could go back in time and put things right. If only she could tell Mo the truth about Justin and have her friend sort him out like she’d sorted out Ella St Milton all those years ago.
“It isn’t great for me,” she whispered.
“You got exactly what you wanted,” Mo said icily. “The fame, the money, the rich guy. I hope it was all worth it. You might think it was years ago but I’ll never forget what you did to Jake. As far as I’m concerned you’re dead to me. The Summer I knew died a long time ago.”
Summer felt like she’d been slapped. She wasn’t proud of how she’d behaved back then but Jake had let her down too, and when she’d needed him most. He’d abandoned her, not the other way around. Her eyes filled with tears. Thank goodness she was wearing the sunglasses.
“Mo, I—”
“No, don’t.” Morwenna held up her hand as though warding off something unpleasant. “I don’t want to hear any more. You’ve got exactly what you wanted and that’s your world now. Not me, not Jake and not Polwenna Bay.”
Summer wanted nothing more than to turn on her heel and run, but unfortunately there was only the quay behind her and then a sheer drop into the sea. She wasn’t going to give Mo the satisfaction of drowning herself, even if it was a tempting option at this exact moment, especially as – horror to top all horrors – Jake was headed in their direction, diverted from his route into the pub by his sister’s raised voice.
Summer’s legs felt like soggy wool. Almost twelve years might have passed since she’d last seen Jake Tremaine, but they felt like seconds. He was still the most handsome man she had ever seen – and he was a man now too, not the boy he had been. The Jake before her now was broad shouldered and muscular, and there were lines fanning from those bright blue eyes. Getting older had only made Jake Tremaine even more attractive. Summer could hardly breathe.
“What the hell is with you today, Mo?” Jake was demanding. Impatiently, he pushed his thick blond curls out of his face so that he could glower at his sister. “I’ve just heard about your stand-up row with Ashley and now you’re yelling at visitors?” He glanced over at Summer and, knowing Jake as she did, she guessed he was on the brink of offering an apology for his sister’s outburst. His eyes widened when he realised who was on the receiving end of Mo’s temper.
“You cut your hair,” he said slowly.
Summer’s hand rose and touched her bare neck, which was almost as much of a shock as seeing Jake again after so long.
“Her hair?” Mo rounded on her brother scornfully. “Is that all you can say when she waltzes back here as though nothing ever happened? Who gives a toss about her bloody hair? She’s not welcome, that’s all that matters!” Turning back to Summer, she added furiously, “Why don’t you just crawl back to wherever you came from? Nobody wants you here!”
Her old friend’s antipathy was more than Summer could bear.
“I’m so sorry I’ve upset you,” she said, quickly pushing her sunglasses up her nose and hoping that her bruises didn’t show. “I didn’t mean to. And I won’t get in your way, I promise.”
Jake’s face was brown from hours on the water but beneath the tan he was pale. A muscle ticked in his cheek; a sign of stress that Summer recognised of old. Then he breathed out slowly.
“Mo, you don’t own the Bay – luckily for quite a few people today. You can’t dictate who’s allowed here.”
“More’s the pity,” hissed Morwenna. Her top lip had curled into a sneer and her blue eyes were bright with scorn. “I’d kick out certain people so fast their tiny brains would be spinning. You stick around if you want to, Jake, but I can’t bear the sight of her, even if I hardly recognise her with her clothes on.”
And with that Mo was gone.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Jake said regretfully, watching his sister stalk through the crowds. “You know how Mo can be. She has a savage temper.”
Summer gulped. She certainly did, but being the focus of her old friend’s wrath felt as if somebody had ripped out her soul and kicked it hard.
“She’s fiercely loyal and she’s protective,” Jake went on. His voice still had that West Country richness, as warm and as thick as clotted cream, and just hearing it made her memories race back in a riptide. Summer’s own accent had been smoothed away by elocution classes a long time ago; she missed it. “You know Mo: she doesn’t forget anything in a hurry.”
“I’m sorry.” Summer’s voice was shaking. “I never wanted to upset anyone.”
He shrugged those strong shoulders. “Nobody’s upset. Mo’s just had a big showdown with somebody and you happened to be in the line of fire. It’s nothing personal.”
Summer knew this wasn’t true. It was totally personal.
“You’ve every right to visit Polwenna if you want to. Of course you have. Mo knows it,” Jake continued. “I really hope you enjoy your stay.”
Su
mmer stared at him. If Jake had been surprised to see her he had hidden it well now and appeared indifferent. His distant politeness was worse than rage.
“Jake,” she said softly. “Can we talk?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think there’s any point in that, do you? We said everything that needed to be said all those years ago. There’s no point revisiting the past. We’ve all moved on.” He glanced down at her left hand where Justin’s enormous diamond heart ring, the one that all the magazines had gone crazy over, sat like a brand on her engagement finger – and a small smile played on his lips. Lips she’d once known so well. Summer could still remember how they’d felt as they’d brushed her throat and traced a trail of fire to her breasts. She shivered in spite of the sun.
“We’re different people now,” Jake finished coolly. “It’s all water under the bridge.”
He was standing so close that Summer could have reached out and touched his hand. She really wanted to. Lord. No wonder she’d stayed away from this place. She’d only been here a few hours and already the years were rolling away and she was sixteen again – and her heart knew that Jake was wrong. They weren’t different. They were just older.
“I’m sorry if my coming here makes things difficult,” she said. “I never meant to upset anyone. I know we ended on a bad note—”
Jake gave her a hard stare, then laughed. “A bad note? I guess you could put it like that.” He shook his head and exhaled slowly again. “Look, Summer, this is all screwed up and bloody weird quite frankly. What can I say? I know you had your reasons for what you did and they were right for you, weren’t they? You’ve got the career you always wanted and you’ve got the whole celebrity thing going on too. A quiet life here would never have been enough. You did the right thing and I’m glad for you, I really am.”
“But there are things that I need to—”
Summer didn’t get to finish because Jake cut across her. “What happened between us was over a long time ago. My life’s moved on and so has yours.” His eyes were hard now. “Let’s just draw a line under it, shall we? I’m sure you had your reasons for what you did and I’ve no desire or interest to dredge it up again. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m supposed to be in the pub.”
[Polwenna Bay 01.0] Runaway Summer Page 8