[Polwenna Bay 01.0] Runaway Summer

by Ruth Saberton

  It might make more sense to wait in the car, but Summer was desperate to get to the bank before it shut. The way the sky looked, this weather wasn’t about to pass anytime soon, so there was no point attempting to sit it out. Without a phone she couldn’t call for help either. There was nothing for it but to walk towards the next hamlet and hope that somebody would take pity on her and give her a can of fuel. For the first time since she’d arrived in Cornwall, Summer found herself wishing that she’d be recognised. Fame was a great oiler of wheels. Whether she’d get as far resembling a drowned rat as she would looking like her polished celebrity alter ego was anyone’s guess.

  She pushed the car door open and stepped out into the deluge. The force of it stung her cheeks and within seconds she was drenched. The Cornish rain was being driven in icy sheets that Summer could see racing in from the coast and ripping across the countryside. The early wheat rippled like an inland sea, and once she was away from the cover of the trees there was no shelter at all. Gritting her teeth and wishing she’d worn boots rather than sandals, Summer trudged forwards with her head bent against the weather.

  Just as she’d suspected, the lanes were empty and the farmhouse on the hill was a lot further away in reality than it had appeared from the comfort of the Audi. Summer was wet through to her knickers now, but there was nothing to be gained from turning back at this stage. She was so far down the road that she may as well just carry on. The bank had better let her access her account after all this effort.

  Summer continued along the lane. Her legs and arms were dusted with goosebumps and she shivered. May was a fickle month, as warm as blood one moment and then arctic cold the next, and Summer remembered her father saying that hypothermia could take hold in seconds. He’d been talking about falling into the cold waters of the Channel, but Summer was rather worried that the principle was the same. She was just about to climb over a stile and make a shortcut through a field of cows when headlights scattered diamonds through the puddles. A truck had come up behind her; she turned and saw the figure of a broad-shouldered man silhouetted behind the wheel. As it drew alongside her, the vehicle slowed.

  All alone in a wet and isolated lane, out of shouting distance and without a mobile phone, Summer suddenly felt very vulnerable. Maybe she should just keep walking. You heard some awful things about women who accepted lifts with strangers…

  She heard the whirr of an electric window winding down as the driver stared out at her, and adrenalin flooded her nervous system.

  “Summer? What on earth are you doing out here? You’re soaked! Get in, for heaven’s sake!”

  Summer gasped. Her heart was really thumping hard now because the driver of the truck was none other than Jake Tremaine.

  Chapter 17

  Jake couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. For a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but a quick blink and swipe of the wipers soon confirmed that he wasn’t imagining things: the slender and sodden figure at the side of the lane really was Summer. Of course it was; he would have recognised her anywhere. After winding down the window and calling out to her, Jake leaned across the cab of the Ranger, sweeping the newspapers and sweet wrappers from the passenger seat and opening the door.

  “Hurry up, Sums,” he urged. “You’re soaked.”

  Summer didn’t need asking again and moments later she was sitting beside him and dripping all over the faux leather seats. Her short hair was plastered to her head and her green eyes seemed bigger than ever in her pale face, while her teeth chattered so much he could hear them.

  Jake removed his navy blue sweater and tossed it to her. “Pop that on.”

  “I’ll get it wet,” Summer protested. Her teeth worried her full bottom lip in the way that he remembered so well and Jake was suddenly unable to think of anything else but taking it between his own teeth and biting gently before straying down to the soft skin of her throat…

  This wasn’t a time to have thoughts like that. In fact there was no time that warranted them. Summer was his ex and he’d just agreed to take things a stage further with Ella. Annoyed with himself, Jake turned away to fiddle with the car heater. Moments later the cab was blasted with hot air and Summer, now swathed in his sweater, was shivering slightly less than before. Jake wished now that he’d splashed out on the top-spec model with heated seats rather than watching the pennies and plumping for this no-frills workhorse. Summer still looked half frozen.

  “How long have you been out in this?” he asked.

  Summer shrugged. “Not long. Fifteen minutes maybe? It was fine when I set out.”

  Jake laughed. “That’s Cornish weather for you. I watched this lot roll in across the bay just before I left. It’s heavy but it should pass in another hour or so.”

  She mopped her face with his sleeve. It was far too long and flopped over her hand. Seeing her huddled in clothes that were too big made Jake feel protective of her. He wanted to wrap her up, sweep her into his arms and carry her away somewhere safe where he could look after her. His groin tightened and Jake gave himself a mental shake. How was it that, even looking like a drowned rat, Summer Penhalligan moved him in a way that no other woman ever could? Ella, for all her workouts, facials and expensive clothes, didn’t come close to Summer’s natural beauty.

  “Where were you going anyway?” Jake asked. His voice sounded hoarse. Summer literally took his breath away. It was ridiculous. Even the scent of her damp skin was driving him wild in a way that Ella’s bucket loads of Chanel never would.

  “The bank.” Summer’s wet clothes were starting to steam in the heat. Condensation blurred the windows and Jake had the nebulous sensation that, enclosed in the cab, they were in their own world. She wiped her face with the end of the sleeve again and smiled. “It’s a bit of a long story but I set off from London in rather a hurry and left my purse behind. A friend of mine was going to transfer some money to my old account and I was on my way to withdraw it when I ran out of petrol. I feel pretty stupid.”

  It was a few days since Jake had seen Summer, and the bruise on her face was starting to fade from livid purple to brown and yellow smudges. He had a strong suspicion why Summer might have fled without her money and it made him sick to the stomach. There was no point asking her though. Jake had sisters and he knew that women could be stubborn when they chose to be. If Summer wanted to confide in him then she would. Until then he would just do all he could to help.

  “That Audi in the hedge is yours, then?”

  She nodded. “I feel so stupid for letting it run this low. I’ll buy some more fuel when I’ve got my money. Hey! What are you doing?”

  Jake was reversing the truck. “We’re going back to the village. You need to get dry and warmed up.”

  “No way.” Summer’s voice was determined. “I need to draw that money out. Anyway, aren’t you going into town?”

  “I was only popping to the farm store to get some engine oil. That can wait until tomorrow.”

  She crossed her arms and gave him a determined look. “Well I can’t, Jake. I really need to get some money out. Besides, I can’t leave the car here. If you take me into Liskeard I’ll be fine.”

  Jake laughed. “You will not be fine, Summer Penhalligan. You’re drenched and you’ll have pneumonia before you even reach the cashpoint. I’m taking you home to dry off and then I’ll get Issie or Nick to drive me back with some fuel and we’ll rescue the car. And before you argue,” he added as, right on cue, she opened her mouth to protest, “I’ll lend you some money to tide you over.”

  The truck was heading back through the sodden lanes to Polwenna Bay now, tyres splashing through puddles and wipers at full speed. They passed the Audi and Summer sighed in annoyance.

  “You’re just going to ignore anything I say, aren’t you?” she said.

  “Yep,” Jake agreed. “I’ll listen again once you’re safe and warm. Deal?”

  “It’s not much of a deal, is it? Not when I don’t get any say. You’re practically k
idnapping me,” grumbled Summer. In the warm fug of the cab her hair was starting to curl into ringlets, and he was glad to see that the hot air was beginning to turn her cheeks pink again.

  Jake ignored her complaining. If taking Summer back home to warm up while he dealt with her car was kidnapping, then kidnapping was exactly what he was about to do. Alice hadn’t raised him to be the sort of man who left someone who was in trouble to fend for themselves: she’d brought her grandsons up to be gentlemen – even if Zak and Nick’s behaviour sometimes threw this fact into grave doubt. There was no way Jake could allow Summer to struggle with sopping clothes, petrol cans and greasy wet roads. Ex or not, he felt compelled to take care of her. He told himself he’d do the same for any woman, or indeed any person in need of help.

  They drove in silence for a while. Jake sneaked a glance at Summer and saw that her eyes had closed, the thick lashes dark against her skin. She looked exhausted. As he guided the truck through the windy narrow lanes he felt as though he was driving back in time too. They’d travelled like this so many times in the past, him at the wheel and Summer beside him with her hand resting gently on his thigh, sweetly oblivious to the dramatic effect that the slightest brush of her fingertips had on him. Did she remember those days too? Jake wondered. Did bittersweet nostalgia run through her just like the rainwater that was coursing down the sides of the steep lane?

  Probably not. She was a big celebrity now and what was he? Just some country boy she’d dated in her less glamorous past. He really needed to get a handle on himself. He was thirty years old, for Christ’s sake.

  Maybe this was what they called a mid-life crisis?

  ***

  “Where are we?” murmured Summer some twenty minutes later. She’d been fast asleep, lulled into slumber by the warmth and the motion of the car. She was ridiculously tired. Maybe this was the pregnancy taking its toll? For something so small and so new, her baby was certainly determined to take whatever it needed. It had only been because of this bone-grinding exhaustion that she’d given in to Jake.

  Well, that and the fact that sitting beside him in the cab felt so normal. Although it was more than a decade since Jake had driven her home from a day out, it could have been only yesterday. That was just the magic of Polwenna Bay, Summer reminded herself; it didn’t mean anything more. Cornwall was a timeless county and although the years rolled by with the tides and the scudding clouds, very little really changed. In a world that had recently turned crazy for Summer, this constancy was comforting.

  She rubbed her eyes. They were driving through a fairly new estate and were turning onto a rutted track that looked alarmingly as though it was going to plummet over the cliff. “This is the top of the village, isn’t it?”

  Jake nodded, not taking his eyes from the bumpy terrain. The rain was even heavier here and the clouds were moving in fast. “We can park here now. Nick and Zak have cut a path through the undergrowth to Seaspray.”

  “I didn’t know this was your land,” Summer said. She was surprised because she’d thought she’d known everything about the Tremaines. That was twelve years ago, you idiot, she reminded herself sternly. A lot had changed since then.

  “It isn’t: we just rent half an acre from a farmer, Ben Owens. Do you remember him? He was in your year at school.”

  Summer did remember Ben. He was tall and ginger and had blushed every time she’d spoken to him. She wondered whether he’d changed.

  “Parking here’s a bit of a pain because the path’s really twisty, but I figured at least this way you don’t have to run the gauntlet of the village.” Jake pulled up alongside a faded blue shipping container and killed the engine. “We’ll get wet walking down but it’s only five minutes. Then we’ll have some hot drinks and get dried.”

  It may have been only a short walk, but the downpour had turned the path into deep mud and by the time Jake and Summer had squeezed through the gap in Seaspray’s hedge they were both drenched. They threaded their way through the garden, the stunning views smothered by the thick cloud that had rolled in, and Summer’s sandals slithered on the sodden grass.

  “OK?” Jake reached out and steadied her. His hand on her waist was firm and she found that she was leaning on him as they continued their descent. This was because it was slippery, Summer told herself, and for no other reason. He was just being a gentleman. She remembered now just how much she’d liked this about him. Jake wouldn’t have abandoned her at two a.m. in a Marbella club just because he felt she was looking at another man the wrong way, or left her alone in hospital when she accidentally broke her wrist and needed it pinned. No, Jake Tremaine looked after his women.

  His women? This thought made her throat silt up. Did Jake have a girlfriend? Summer guessed that there must be somebody. He’d been handsome as an eighteen-year-old lad; now that he was thirty he had matured and broadened out into the sort of looks that drew admiring glances everywhere he went.

  As they neared Seaspray’s back door (still painted the same shade of duck-egg blue that Summer remembered, and fringed with the baskets of tumbling geraniums and nasturtiums that were Alice’s passion), both she and Jake became increasingly soaked. His hair plastered to his scalp and his eyelashes starry with rain, Jake pressed his palm against the small of Summer’s back and guided her towards the large white house.

  Summer stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “Hold on a minute. What do you think you’re doing?” She’d assumed that they’d been taking a shortcut to Harbour Watch.

  “Taking you inside to get dry and warm up. There’s no way I’m letting you go back to a damp, cold holiday cottage – not until I know you’re not about to contract pneumonia, anyway.” Jake’s eyes were dark in the gloom, and the set of his mouth had the determination about it that she’d last seen when he’d flatly refused to move to London with her. There was no arguing with him sometimes, but as far as Summer was concerned, now wasn’t one of those occasions. She wasn’t sixteen anymore.

  “That’s really kind, Jake, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I’m more than happy to go back to the cottage. I’ve put you out quite enough for one day.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Putting me out? Is that really how you see it? This isn’t London, Summer. This is Polwenna, remember? People look out for each other here.”

  It was on the tip of Summer’s tongue to point out that Jake and Mo hadn’t exactly been there for her when she’d needed them the most, but she stopped herself just in time. This was a can of worms that, once opened, would have to be dealt with; right now, cold and tired, she simply didn’t have the strength.

  “You’ve done enough already,” was all she said.

  “And I wouldn’t have completed that if I let you go back without making certain you were warmed up and not about to catch your death of cold,” Jake told her resolutely. “I know that cottage. There’s only a temperamental storage heater – and the water heater’s erratic too. I don’t even think there’s a tumble dryer. So you’re coming back to Seaspray to have some tea and warm up, and that’s the end of it. There’s no point arguing.”

  “I don’t want to go inside!” Summer recoiled from the very thought of this. It was too painful to return as a stranger to the place that had once been her second home, unwelcome there and unfamiliar now, and knowing that the choices and decisions she’d made as a teenager still had echoes.

  “And I don’t want to take you back to a cold empty house. There’s no way I’d dream of doing that.” Jake shook his head and droplets flew from his curls. “While Nick and I go and fetch your car you can have a hot bath and drink gallons of tea. There’s no point arguing anyway: I’ll pick you up and carry you there if I have to.”

  Hands on her hips, she glared up at him. “Do you always ignore what people want?”

  “Only when what they suggest instead is bloody ridiculous,” he countered. “So it would make life a lot easier if you’d just accept my offer of tea, warmth and toast graciously rather than putting up a fight. We’ll
probably both catch hypothermia otherwise.”

  They glowered at each other through the driving rain, determined green eyes locking with equally determined blue ones while the drops stung their cheeks and blurred their vision. Summer tried to dredge up some more arguments, but she was getting colder by the second and the world was starting to sway around her. Besides, annoying as it was, Jake was right: the cottage would be chilly and she hadn’t any pound coins left to feed the ravenous electric meter. The thought of sipping hot tea by the Aga in Seaspray’s cosy kitchen was extremely tempting…

  “Come on.” Sensing her start to weaken, Jake grasped Summer’s hand and towed her the last few yards to the house. He kicked the swollen door open with his rigger boot and they stumbled into the little porch, where a selection of Tremaine wellington boots, damp raincoats and dog baskets jostled for space.

  “Jake? Is that you?” called Alice. “That was a quick trip. Did you forget something?”

  “I found somebody lost in the rain, so we’ve come home to dry out. Is the kettle on?” Jake called back, kicking off his boots in two practised movements and tugging Summer into the kitchen.

  “You know me, my love; it’s always on. Who did you find – oh my goodness!” Alice’s hands flew to her mouth and her laughing reply was swiftly halted when she caught sight of Summer.

  “I’m so sorry. I won’t stay long, I promise,” Summer said quickly. A pool of water was gathering on the slate tiles at her feet. “Coming here was a bad idea.”

  “Of course it wasn’t,” said Jake firmly. “Was it, Gran?”

  Alice never turned anyone away from Seaspray and her kitchen had always been filled with her grandchildren and their friends. Some of Summer’s fondest memories were of afternoons spent sitting at the table drinking tea and chatting away to Mo and Alice while the boys ate their way through their own bodyweight in cake. Sometimes even their father would join them, taking time out from the business, and then the whole family would be together. It was almost sad, she reflected, how you never appreciated at the time that this was probably the happiest you’d ever be.