A Cornish Wedding

by Jenny Kane

  Beth frowned, immediately concerned for her two best friends. ‘You guys are alright, aren’t you?’

  ‘Oh yes. Great.’ Abi glanced down at the pixie community she now had dancing around a maypole on the page in front of her. ‘I’m probably being silly but, well. . .Max seems happy to keep things as they are now. He stays at my place sometimes, but I hardly ever go to his flat, and he hasn’t mentioned moving in or anything else.’

  ‘What? Never?’ Beth, who’d known Max since primary school, could easily believe he’d got too comfortable to move things along. Or was too nervous to do so. . .

  ‘Never. I thought perhaps, with you and Jacob expecting, and Stan and Dora showing it’s never too late to find happiness with someone, he might have felt the urge to ask me if we should live together.’

  ‘You could ask him.’

  ‘No I couldn’t.’ Abi was adamant. ‘One of the reasons I love Max so much is that he’s old-fashioned. Chivalrous even. I think he’d hate it if I was the one who asked first. He’d see it as if I was hassling him, or worse, it would make him feel as though he’d failed me in some way.’

  ‘Bloody Lucinda.’ Beth, who had never forgiven Max’s ex-wife for robbing him of so much of his confidence when it came to relationships, said. ‘It was always going to be a slow job with Max, hun. He does love you. Truly he does.’

  ‘I know. He’s great, and I love him too. I’m probably just feeling a bit left behind.’

  ‘You’ll be great parents when the time comes.’

  ‘Thanks, Beth, I hope you don’t think I’m being all begrudging of you and Jacob, or Stan and Dora come to that. I’d hate you to think that. It’s only that. . .’

  ‘You’d like it to be you and Max as well.’

  ‘Yes, I would.’

  Beth was now even more determined than ever to make the anniversary of the gallery’s opening in September a celebration of Abi’s arrival in their lives. ‘I’m sure Max feels the same. He needs to take his time, that’s all. Maybe. . .’ But Beth never got to share her thoughts with Abi, because a very jolly group of American tourists burst into the scene, with wide white-toothed smiles and, luckily, even wider wallets.

  For the first time since she’d arrived in Cornwall, Cass thought, the time seemed to fly, rather than drag from minute to minute. Having been delighted with Max’s progress – the kitchen and hallway already gleaming and fresh in an enlivening shade of butter yellow paint – she had occupied herself with rearranging the living room. Clearing out the few pieces of furniture that the previous occupants had left behind, she began to visualise how she’d like the room to look if she was to live there herself. ‘Not that I’m going to, but if I like it, then there’s more chance someone else will be willing to pay a decent price to stay here.’

  A few happy hours later, Cass sat in her garden drinking a glass of Pinot while scrolling through websites for new sofas and an armchair. The dining and kitchen furniture she was determined to either get from Jo or restore herself. She looked at the bottle. Justin would not have approved of the supermarket label. The thought made her smile.

  Every now and then the aroma of fresh paint hit her nostrils as a light breeze blew across the garden. Max had completed the decorating, and having declared the larder door a lost cause, had replaced it with a suitably in-keeping new one.

  Torn between ordering a battered but gorgeous secondhand leather sofa and matching armchair, or a brand new sofa and a tartan wing-backed chair, Cass decided to order neither pair for a minute, but saved the pages so she could examine them at her leisure later. First she had a new plan to make. A proposal to present to Donald first thing on Monday morning.

  Now Monday had arrived, Cass found herself unaccountably nervous. She’d never been unsure of her business actions before, but this was such a massive change of direction. In every possible way.

  An image of her parents in their little village in Oxfordshire flitted through her mind. Would they be pleased? Proud of her, even? She hoped so. Building a few bridges in that direction was a task long overdue.

  After parking her little hire car in the town car park in Penzance, Cass gripped her handbag and walked to Donald’s offices with her throat dry and her palms sweaty. Trying to focus on the trip to Lanhydrock she was looking forward to that afternoon with Jo, Cass walked into the lawyer’s domain.

  Donald, to his credit, appeared neither shocked nor disapproving as she explained that, having spoken – at last – to Justin, and after a great deal of thought, she had decided not to keep her somewhat depleted business going.

  ‘Did Mr Smythe shed any further light on the situation? Do you know who was behind what happened?’

  Explaining as much as she understood from what Justin had confessed about Crystal and Jacinta, Cass added, ‘I suspect from what I learned that the rumoured US company trying to buy the business out is another fable. An extra twist of the knife from Mrs Smythe.’

  ‘Or Ms Scott-Thomas, as she calls herself.’ The lawyer nodded sagely. ‘Letting you suppose there might be financial remuneration from the buyout, only to discover that it was a fake agreement?’ Donald shuffled some papers on his desk. ‘I was coming to that conclusion. I could find no trace of any agreement. This leaves us with old-fashioned revenge then.’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘And you aren’t going to fight it?’

  Cass frowned. ‘I’ve thought hard about this. For myself, I’d like to get some money back, but not as much as I’d like to make sure all my employees get the wages they are due, plus the redundancy they are legally entitled to. Is there a way to make Jacinta provide that? Seeing as she was the one who dissolved the agency via forgery.’

  ‘There should be. However, you would have to press for a criminal prosecution, and Justin would have to testify that he did not order the signatures or the distribution on the letters of dismissal on your say-so.’

  ‘Ah.’ Cass felt the colour drain from her face. ‘He’d never do that.’

  Donald frowned. ‘You think it would come down to Jacinta’s word against yours?’

  ‘Sadly, yes. I have got to see a rather different side of Justin since I came to Cornwall. I honestly don’t think he has got the guts to stand against his wife.’

  ‘I see.’ Donald sat back in his chair. ‘Do you have enough personal funds to pay your ex-staff what they are due?’

  Hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but knowing it might, Cass inclined her head a fraction. ‘If I sold my flat in London I could cover the wages and possibly nominal redundancies. If I have to.’ She lifted up the delicate bone china cup of tea she’d been presented with on arrival. ‘I have been very fortunate. Now that I’ve spoken to all my nannies again, and they have calmed down enough to see that I’ve been the victim of a fraud, not one of them has demanded anything of me beyond some help in finding reemployment – which I have gladly given. They all have, or will have when I have finished working through my list, the best references. I only employed the best in the first place.’

  ‘What have you stated in the references as the reason for them seeking new employment?’

  ‘Change of business circumstances. No blame has been laid at my staff’s door. Let’s face it, it’s my fault. I’m not having them suffer because I was foolish enough to fall in love with the wrong man.’

  The lawyer laid down his pen and studied his client carefully. ‘Would you like me to pursue things further? I have to say, it appears you didn’t need my help at all. You’ve worked it all out yourself.’

  Donald’s expression was full of pride, and Cassandra warmed to the lawyer even more.

  ‘You’ve given me the confidence to know I was searching in the right places. Can we say that I’ll pay you for services to date, and that if I decide to proceed with a criminal investigation, then I will be back in touch?’

  Stretching a hand across his desk to shake Cass’s, Donald beamed. ‘I wish you luck, Ms Cassandra Henley-Pinkerton.’

  Cass p
ut out her hand. ‘Just Cass now, I think.’

  With a twinkle in his eye, Donald shook her hand. ‘I’d be glad to know how things work out for you, Cass. Good luck.’

  ‘Would you like to take the guided tour, or would you prefer me to show you around and chat about each room as we go? Your call entirely.’

  Cass stared at Lanhydrock House with awe. She’d been to dozens of ancestral homes, some private, some public, but this one seemed to be calling out to her. The geometrically pleasing building took her breath away as the sunlight bounced off the many conical decorations on the corners of the roof. Its precision appealed to her tidy business brain, and as she followed a smiling Jo up the main driveway towards the entrance, it was all Cass could do not to rush eagerly towards the grey-haired attendant who was standing by to take their tickets.

  As she turned however, and surveyed the formal garden, Cass stopped walking. ‘Wow.’

  ‘Quite a view, isn’t it?’

  ‘And look at that gatehouse. Its turrets remind me of Maleficent’s tiara.’ Cass felt a tingle climb her spine as she took in the stunning free-standing folly-style gatehouse, behind which swept the Cornish countryside, with not a grain of sand or pebble in sight. It was the most beautiful view she’d ever seen. And she wanted to see more.

  Jo regarded the gatehouse with a new, delighted curiosity. ‘I’ve never noticed that before, so it does. You wait until you see what it’s like inside. It’s quite a contradiction.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘There was a fire here in 1881. It ripped through the original Jacobean house. What you can see now is the Victorian rebuild. The chap that had it rebuilt, Thomas Charles, was ahead of his time. Into modern gadgets – well, modern for then. At every available opportunity he had the latest technology installed here. You’ll see as we go round.’

  Cass regarded Jo with increased respect. ‘I don’t think I’m going to need an official guide. It’ll be more relaxed going around on our own. If that’s OK?’

  Jo winked. ‘I was sort of hoping you’d say that. Come on.’

  It wasn’t long before Cassandra saw what Jo had meant. The house was full of contradictions. The sparse nature of the servants’ quarters, the luxury of the family rooms, and the comforts of ‘upstairs’ living made her think of Victorian Christmases despite the heat of the summer sun peeping through the chinks in the blinds, which had been drawn so the sunlight wouldn’t fade the furniture.

  The house had, what must have been at the time, state-of-the-art central heating, ovens and even fire hydrants. Jo was a wonderful guide. She moved neither too fast nor too slow, and her passion for what she saw was infectious.

  ‘I’m dying to see the dresser you restored. Is it in the kitchen?’

  ‘It is. Come on, let’s go there next.’ Weaving past the other tourists, Jo led Cass into the kitchens, and pointed with pride to a gigantic scrubbed oak dresser which was covered in pewter and bronze cooking pots and plates.

  ‘That’s incredible. You’re so clever.’ Cass peered a little closer to the furniture. ‘Just checking for bumblebees.’

  Jo laughed. ‘You have no idea how tempted I was to pop one onto the back, but I chickened out in the end. I’d like them to employ me again one day.’

  By the time they’d visited every room, Cass’s head felt like it would explode with the variety of new sights, aromas and information, and her feet were killing her. ‘I think I owe you a pot of tea.’

  Sat at a table on the edge of the brightly coloured garden, Cass and Jo stared out across the view for a while before Jo said, ‘The gardens go on for miles. You can walk along the river, or ramble in the woods forever if you wanted to.’

  ‘And not a wave in sight.’

  Jo smiled. ‘I guess that’s its only drawback. No seaside.’

  Cass laughed. ‘That is no drawback. I had no idea Cornwall was so beautiful. I’m not keen on the seaside itself, but this? This is incredible.’

  Jo clapped in delight. ‘You’re not? Nor am I! Oh thank God, I was beginning to think I was the only freak in the factory! Well, that settles it.’

  ‘Settles what?’

  ‘How would you like to be my apprentice? Only part-time, but we could work out a deal. I could teach you all the restoration techniques I know in return for a percentage on any interior design work that I can pass your way?’

  Cass was stunned. ‘How did you know I’d been toying with the idea of interior design?’

  ‘I didn’t! I just saw the way you looked around the house, and listened to your comments, observations and judgements as we moved from room to room. That’s why I brought you here. I had a feeling you had a good eye. I wanted to check before I asked you. So, how about it?’

  Chapter Twenty-four

  This was not a great time to be stuck behind a tractor.

  Cass eased her little car out a fraction to see if she could squeeze by, but it was hopeless. ‘How quickly you’ve changed!’

  It was only now there was a danger of being late for her appointment with Dora to view a wedding dress, that Cass realised how relaxed she’d become about time in the last few weeks.

  She’d spent a gloriously indulgent morning with Jo, learning how to apply gel stain onto restored furniture to ‘fix it’, and chatting about her fledgling plans for a small interior design business, which she hoped would be more of an advisory service to begin with.

  Cass smiled as she recalled how impressed Jo had been with her plans to approach the larger houses in the area and offer design and redecoration advice along the lines of ‘Classic Designs for Busy People’.

  Perhaps she’d get her own office in time, but for now she wanted to keep things very low key. Sort out the remains of The Pinkerton Agency first, and then think of the future.

  Every morning she woke up now, Cass had the urge to pinch herself. Things like this didn’t happen, did they? People you hardly know don’t offer friendship, and they certainly don’t offer job opportunities. Except they do; because they had, and it was happening.

  ‘Maybe it all feels unlikely and extreme, because I spent so such a long period living in a competitive selfish environment? And let’s face it, Mr Tractor, I was one of the most selfish and competitive. I’m damn sure I don’t deserve all this luck.’

  Cass had wanted to tell Dan about her new opportunity, but as she had no real reason to see him, and not wanting to tempt fate, she’d decided not to say anything. She badly wanted the chance to ask him about the Army again, not to mention to discover if he had forgiven her for being so ungrateful. But she was so afraid he wouldn’t want to so much as catch a glimpse of her that she’d avoided Chalk Towers completely; telling herself she’d talk to Dan the moment she’d sorted out her mess with Justin once and for all. That way, at least she would have something positive to say.

  Finally pulling up outside Abi’s house, Cass could see that the others were waiting for her.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m cutting it fine; the traffic between here and Truro was very tractor-ish today.’

  ‘Not to worry.’ Dora, who insisted that Cass was the right person to help her handle the very bossy woman who ran the boutique where she was intending to buy her wedding outfit, smiled at Max, who immediately ushered Sadie into the boot of Abi’s estate car. Cass and Abi got in the back, while Max helped Dora into the passenger seat.

  ‘Are you still sure you and Stan don’t mind us bridesmaids picking our own dresses?’ Abi leaned towards Dora as Max drove them to the village of Zennor.

  ‘Of course we don’t. It’s not like you’re all five years old and dying to play little princesses for the day!’

  ‘Ugh!’ Abi pulled a face. ‘I didn’t even do that when I was five! Thanks, Dora.’

  Cass, who decided to keep to herself that she had been exactly the sort of five-year-old who’d dreamed of marrying a prince and living happily ever after, preferably in pink, said, ‘I hadn’t expected it to be such a big wedding. You and Stan must know a lot of people.’
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  ‘Stan’s been here most of his life, and since he moved into Chalk Towers he has got back in touch with all of those folk from his past who are still with us. Then there’s the whole of the Chalk Towers crew as well. We can’t invite some and not others. It’s worse than a primary school on that front. If we missed some folk out it would be Zimmer frames at dawn!’

  Once again finding herself laughing in conjunction with Dora’s infectious chuckle, Cass said, ‘And you want me to come with you this afternoon because you’re scared of the boutique woman? I don’t buy that, Dora.’

  Still chuckling, Dora swivelled around in her seat. ‘You wait till you meet her. I think your city slicker persona might be required, so I come out with the outfit I want to have, rather than the one she wants me to have.’

  ‘That woman looked terrifying!’ Abi bit back the words I wouldn’t want her sorting out my wedding dress.

  As Cass and Dora disappeared into the confident clutches of the rather scary boutique owner, Abi felt an atmosphere of unspoken words fill the air between herself and Max.

  ‘Do you know the story of the Zennor Mermaid?’

  Suspecting that Max could feel the slight tension too, and wanted to deflect the situation, Abi stared at medieval church to their left. ‘Only that there is a legend about a mermaid, I don’t actually know the tale. Are you going to tell me one of your local stories?’

  Slipping on Sadie’s lead, and taking Abi’s hand, Max began to take them past the quintessentially Cornish cottages. ‘Once upon a time, many years ago, a mysterious beautiful lady occasionally attended the church behind us. Nobody knew who this richly dressed woman was, but her stunning appearance and her heartbreakingly lovely voice made her the focus of much village gossip and speculation.

  ‘As you can imagine, a woman who – if it’s possible – was even more gorgeous than you had no shortage of men trying to court her.’

  Abi was immediately thankful that Max always knew how to break an awkward atmosphere. ‘Even more lovely than me? Fancy that!’