A Cornish Wedding

by Jenny Kane

  Surprised to find that it wasn’t Max but Jacob who was propped up on the stool behind the counter, a rival potter’s catalogue open in front of him, Abi said, ‘Hi, where’s Max?’

  ‘Gone to fetch some paint.’ Jacob beamed as Cassandra walked in behind Abi. ‘Hello. You must be Abi’s new neighbour. I’m pleased to meet you.’

  Cassandra took Jacob’s outstretched hand. Taking in his short ponytail and casual clothes, she forced herself not to dismiss him completely, as she would instinctively have done in London.

  ‘Jacob lives upstairs with Beth. He is Cornwall’s very best potter.’

  ‘Why thank you, Mrs Carter,’ Jacob gave an exaggerated bow before pointing to the catalogue, ‘but this guy is pretty good as well.’

  ‘So what are you up to, sussing out the competition?’

  ‘More assessing how good this guy’s brochure is. I’m going to have to change my range once the baby comes, so I’m contemplating a new catalogue for my work.’

  ‘Baby?’ Cassandra blanched and her head thumped with a cruel reminder at the level of hangover she was suffering. ‘You were in the garden with Abi last night?’

  ‘Yes. We were celebrating the forthcoming arrival of the next generation.’

  Mumbling, ‘Congratulations,’ Cassandra was extraordinarily grateful that Jacob hadn’t mentioned her fraught phone call, although his curious expression told her he had definitely heard it. Making sure they continued to steer away from the subject, she asked, ‘Do you have any ceramics here? I’d love to see them.’

  ‘Not right now. I’m in the middle of swapping studios, so most of it’s in storage. I can show you sometime if you’re interested?’

  ‘I’d love to. I’m doing up the house next door to Abi, and a few unique pieces of art would be most welcome.’

  Jacob gave another mock bow. ‘You are clearly a woman of taste.’

  ‘That’s a debatable point right now.’ Cassandra gave the bemused potter a quick smile and wandered over to the newly hung watercolours, to divert the tears that were threatening.

  Abi gave Jacob a barely perceptible shake of her head so that he didn’t follow their visitor. Starting to unpack her art supplies for the day, she said, ‘Hang on, Jacob, why do you need to change your range for when the baby comes?’

  ‘I want to do my bit. Beth loves her job, so I don’t think it’s fair to ask her to give it up. Once her maternity leave is over I’ll be a stay-at-home dad. That means doing as much of the complex arty stuff as possible now, before moving over to mugs, plates and all the quick stuff once he or she has arrived. I can do that at weekends and in the evenings.’

  Abi laughed. ‘I can see you at the potter’s wheel with Jacob junior in a sling on your back.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a thought! I must get one of those.’ Jacob grinned at the prospect as he climbed off the stool. ‘Anyway, if you two beautiful young ladies will excuse me, I must go and see how much space there is at my new studio to store unworked clay.’

  Once Jacob had gone, Abi gave Cassandra a proper tour of Serena Browne’s watercolours, before asking, ‘I’m not intending to hold you hostage or anything, but if you want to use the counter as a desk for a while, then feel free. Wi-Fi is good in here.’

  Cassandra had been working at the counter for an hour. Three strong coffees had been drunk, a few visitors had come and gone, and as she sat, the artwork on the walls screaming out to be taken home with her and soft, calming music playing in the background, she found herself relaxing for only the second time since her feet had crossed the Tamar.

  While Abi sat across the room, working quietly, ideas for a new business venture had begun to form in Cassandra’s head. You can’t. Don’t be absurd. The idea is ludicrous. It’s just because you are surrounded by so much creativity. But the more she tried to dismiss the thought, the more the idea refused to leave her. She knew, as the comforting environment of the gallery soothed her troubled thoughts, that the moment she gathered enough courage, she’d be throwing the plan to save the remnants of her agency in the bin.

  ‘Are you OK, Stan?’

  Coming into the kitchen to take his leave of the old man, after helping Dora carry the things she wanted in the bedroom, Dan found Stan staring out of the window.

  ‘Oh hello, Dan. Yes, thanks.’

  Not convinced, Dan pointed to the seats around the kitchen table. ‘Tell me.’

  Stan crossed his arms. ‘Seems to be all one-way traffic with the sharing where you’re concerned, young man.’

  Dan couldn’t help a smile crossing his face. ‘It’s my job to care for you, Stan.’ He tapped his identity badge. ‘See, it says “Dan Millfield, care manager”. I’m paid to be nosy.’

  ‘Even if I don’t want to talk about it?’

  ‘That’s your choice, naturally, but you look worried, which is not like you at all. However, I’m not going to make you talk, especially as I’ve left my portable torture kit in the office. You know where I am if you need me.’

  Stan nodded. ‘Sorry, Dan. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.’

  ‘You didn’t.’ Dan smiled. ‘I’m very fond of you and Dora. I want you to be happy. So if there’s anything I can do, you will let me know, won’t you?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Dan acknowledged the thanks, and headed for the door to go and sort out the truculent domino players.

  ‘Dan?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where was it? Afghanistan?’

  A brief flash of something that could have been pain crossed over Dan’s eyes. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I’m eighty-nine, Dan. How do you think I know?’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dan put the phone down and returned to the stack of emails that awaited his attention. The amount of paperwork associated with caring for the elderly was teetering on the insane. Still, at least some of the emails that required his time were of a more optimistic nature than the frequent requests he got for end of life or respite care.

  The first he addressed was from the florist whom Stan and Dora had asked him to contact with quotes for four small bouquets of flowers. The next email concerned a sit down reception at the Queen’s Hotel in Penzance, which Stan intended to take the form of the county’s biggest ever cream tea.

  Dan knew he should hand all this wedding administration over to Abi or Max, yet he felt strangely connected to Stan and Dora, and wanted to help them with their special day. He told himself very firmly that his keenness to stay involved was nothing to do with the fact he might get to see the aloof Cassandra again.

  Checking his watch, Dan saw he had half an hour before Max was due to pop by the flats. With an effort of will he dislodged the image of the laughing blonde from his mind, and settled down to tackle as many of his emails as time allowed.

  ‘I’m sorry this facility is currently full of residents, but if you’d like to put a name down on our waiting list. . .’ he wrote. These were messages he hated sending, as they basically meant, ‘If you’d like to hang on until one of my friends dies, then you can have their home.’

  ‘Max. Thank you so much for doing this.’

  ‘No problem at all.’ Max passed Dan the dog lead he held in his hand as Sadie jumped out of the van, from where she’d been sat on the passenger seat, very much enjoying the view. ‘This old girl could do with a proper walk, and as you said on the phone, Stan could probably do with some Sadie time.’

  Dan stroked the retriever affectionately. ‘I appreciate you telling me about the Skype call. I knew something must be wrong, but I had no idea what it was.’

  Max, joining the fussing of Sadie, said, ‘Abi hasn’t told Stan how badly it went yet, but the fact she hasn’t will have spoken volumes to him. You will make sure Stan understands that she had another problem to sort out this morning won’t you?’

  Dan frowned. ‘Cassandra?’ He didn’t like to think of the woman who he’d caught in the midst of such joy being as sad as Max had described over the phone.
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br />   ‘Yes. Obviously it isn’t my place to tell you what happened, but Abi is doing her best to make Cassandra feel better this morning and well, there is only so much Abi to go round. Plus, she feels guilty.’

  ‘Why should she feel guilty that Sally was angry?’

  Max smiled through a sigh. ‘Because Abi, clever though she otherwise is, believes that she is responsible for every trouble in the world.’ Giving Sadie a ‘see you later’ pat, he fixed her lead in place, and handed it to Dan as he climbed back into his van. ‘I’ll collect her after work if that’s OK?’

  Dan looked at Sadie fondly. ‘I’d change the rules and let Sadie live here if it was in my power. Thanks for finding the time to bring her, Max. Stan is in dire need of some canine support, I think. See you tonight.’

  Hoping he was doing the right thing, and knowing his attempts to make Stan feel better were going to make him sad first, Dan let Sadie walk on ahead. She’d be able to find the way to her owner with her eyes shut.

  Dora swung the front door open. ‘Dan and Sadie! How wonderful, and talk about good timing. Stan is very subdued today. He’s denying it, but I know something’s up.’

  ‘That’s why I got Max to bring Sadie over. I got that impression as well. Would it be OK if I stole Stan away for a while, Dora? I think letting Sadie take him for a walk would be ideal for raising his spirits.’

  ‘You’re a good man, Dan. Thank you. Come on; let’s put a smile on my daft ole boy’s face.’

  Dan wasn’t sure he’d ever forget the expression on Stan’s face when he caught sight of his faithful dog wagging her tail madly at him. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’ Greeting Sadie with an enthusiasm that was mutual, Stan looked at Dan suddenly. ‘Max and Abi are alright, aren’t they?’

  ‘They are. Max is just rushed off his feet and wondered if you and I could do Sadie’s lunchtime walk today. Sound OK with you?’

  Stan was already taking his jacket off the coat hook by the door. ‘Are you joking? Come on, girl, walk time!’

  Giving Dora a kiss on her soft pink cheek, Stan regarded Dan. ‘But if you think I’m talking to you while we walk, and not getting any information back in return, m’andsome, then you are in for a disappointment! Sadie and I are capable of chatting without you, you know.’

  Not sure if she was confused or excited by the feeling of hopeful expectation that fluttered around her mind, Cassandra drove back to Truro, a borrowed CD of calming music from the gallery filling the car with gentle rhythms.

  Talking to herself, something she noticed she’d been doing more and more since she’d arrived in the southwest, Cassandra started to formulate her afternoon.

  ‘First, go to the garage and increase my car rental period by a month. Then go and see if Jo has a list of her courses – assuming her shop has the same effect on me as it did before. Get some lunch, and only then will I turn on my mobile phone.’

  It had been a strange feeling not having her mobile on all morning. Cassandra couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t had her phone on. This morning, however, she hadn’t been able to face the sound of it beeping at her when she passed through a Wi-Fi zone, and more honestly, she knew that if, by any chance, Justin had responded to her pathetic dip into alcoholism, she didn’t want to hear it.

  Thanks to Abi, the hangover had cleared. Having soaked up the excess alcohol with way too much coffee, Cassandra was determined to have one final try at calling Justin.

  ‘But this time, you are going to be cold, businesslike, and in total control.’

  Stan was smiling widely as, lead proudly in his hand, he and Sadie shuffled down the path towards the village of St Buryan. It felt a shame to disturb his joy at being outside with his faithful friend, but Dan could feel the weight of what Max had told him hanging over them, and he knew it wasn’t going to go away.

  Pointing to a bench a little further down the road, Dan said, ‘Let’s give Sadie a break, and take the weight off a minute.’

  Stan did what he was told, and promptly turned to his human companion. ‘So, what did Max tell you? I think I know Abi well enough to know she’d have called me earlier if she could. So?’

  Dan laughed. ‘There are no flies on you, are there?’

  ‘Not one.’ Stan was uncharacteristically serious. ‘I assume my daughter wasn’t delighted to hear from Abi, then?’

  Staring out over the field before them, Dan said, ‘I don’t know the details, but from what I can gather, Sally was less than thrilled by Abi’s attempt to reassure her. I think Abi was quite shaken by the incident, and doesn’t know how to tell you without upsetting you. Although she would have phoned if another issue hadn’t got in the way this morning.’

  ‘Another issue?’

  ‘She found Cassandra very upset this morning. Abi’s taken her under her wing.’

  Stan looked proud. ‘That’s my Abi alright.’ And then he sighed, ‘Perhaps I was wrong asking Abi to help convince Sally I wasn’t going mad, or that Dora wasn’t after my money. Sally has never actually accused Abi of stealing me away, but I’m sure she must feel like that sometimes. I had hoped Sally would be able to give Dora and me her blessing, though.’

  Sadie, her timing as perfect as ever, got to her feet and laid her chin on Stan’s knee, making the old man smile. ‘You understand, don’t you, old thing.’

  Dan, not knowing that there wasn’t anything he could say to make things better, gazed into the retriever’s big brown eyes. ‘It was Afghanistan.’

  ‘Cassandra! How wonderful.’ Jo put down the sandpaper, and rubbed her palms free of dust on her paint-spattered apron. ‘How goes the house renovation?’

  Relieved that Jo remembered who she was, Cassandra’s nerves calmed a little. ‘At snail’s pace sadly. A few work issues have been getting in the way.’

  Jo pulled a sympathetic face. ‘Real life’s not all it’s cracked up to be sometimes. Coffee?’

  Cassandra was surprised. ‘Are you sure you have time?’ She drew closer to the workshop area of the shop, to see that Jo had been tackling a chest of drawers, which was midway between jumble sale junk and shabby chic perfection. ‘It looks as if you have your hands full.’

  ‘I’ve always got my hands full, but I always have time for a chat too!’ Jo tilted her head towards a small table, which looked out of place as it was so worn and knocked with age. It held a huddle of mugs. ‘I don’t suppose I could be cheeky and ask you to do the honours. Only instant today, I’m afraid, my machine is on the blink.’

  Not commenting on how long it was since she’d last made a cup of coffee for someone else – and not sure she could actually remember the last time she’d drunk instant coffee – Cassandra happily put the kettle on.

  Her first question had been answered. She still felt as though she fitted in this shop, as if she could be content here. Spooning what she hoped was the correct amount of granules into two mugs, Cassandra called over her shoulder, ‘My friend Abi says you teach furniture restoration.’

  A small shiver of something that could have been pleasure tripped up Cassandra’s spine as she spoke. My friend Abi. Was she a friend? Cassandra hoped so, and there and then decided to make further amends for her previous behaviour.

  ‘I most certainly run classes. Just small numbers of people at a time, although I also do one-to-one sessions for those who want home visits.’

  ‘Home visits?’

  ‘Some people like advice on doing up furniture that’s too large to bring here. I had an amazing time tackling a kitchen dresser that needed a bit of TLC at Lanhydrock House near Bodmin a few years ago. Have you been there yet?’

  ‘No.’ Cassandra poured a little of the long-life milk that was on the table into Jo’s cup, and decided to have her coffee black. ‘I haven’t heard of it.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Jo looked genuinely shocked. ‘Then I feel a trip coming on. It’s open to the public; fancy it?’

  ‘I’d love to.’ Cassandra couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. ‘But – you hardly know me?’
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  ‘True. But it’s early days yet.’ Taking a sip of coffee, Jo pulled a face. ‘I don’t suppose you’d do me another favour?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Nip out and get us a couple of takeout coffees. You are crap at making instant!’

  ‘How long were you out there?’

  Stan’s respect for Dan was growing by the second. He had known his care manager had been in the forces, but he hadn’t realised that Dan had been a Staff Sergeant Combat Medic in the specialist intensive care and hospital facilities at Camp Bastion, tending to a non-stop procession of wounded soldiers and civilians alike.

  ‘Two years, on and off.’ Dan closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to dismiss the images of suffering that he’d lived with on a daily basis. ‘How about you, Stan?’

  ‘The Army as well. Five years. Korea for a while, but general duties on the whole.’

  ‘Does it ever go away? The feeling you never did enough, I mean?’

  Stan smiled at his friend. ‘No, Dan. It never goes, but it fades, and becomes something that was rather than is. May I ask why you left?’

  Dan exhaled slowly, and looked down at Sadie who had, thankfully, had enough of being still and wanted to get walking again. ‘Looks like we’re on our way again, Stan. Come on; let’s enjoy the fresh air and the view.’

  Cassandra hadn’t felt offended by being asked to go and get coffee. It had only struck her once she was carrying the two takeout cups back to the shop, that if she’d been asked by anyone to fetch coffee for them in London, she’d have been seriously annoyed. She ran her own business for goodness’ sake – or used to. . .

  The rest of the afternoon had dissolved into laughter and a lesson in sanding wood.

  ‘If Justin could see me now he’d never believe it!’ Cassandra brushed a dusty hand through her hair, leaving a streak of light silver speckles in its wake. ‘He’d never consider that I was capable of getting messy, let alone that I’d actually delight in physical work.’