A Cornish Wedding

by Jenny Kane

  Abi nodded. ‘I understand that completely. For such a self-sufficient guy, Max has way more stuff than I anticipated. It’s a good job he only has a small flat.’

  ‘Will he sell it?’

  ‘I think so. We haven’t got that far in our plans.’

  Stan couldn’t have been happier if he tried. ‘I am so pleased for you, Abi. This is just what I wanted for you; for your childhood dream to come true. A family in Abi’s House.’

  ‘Well, there’s no family as such, but Max is a start.’

  ‘There will be a family. I know there will.’

  Abi blushed. ‘I hope so. Anyway. . .’ she drew a sustaining breath, determined to get to the reason for this visit before they went off at a conversational tangent ‘. . .talking of family, I have been back in touch with Sally.’

  Stan’s pale face coloured. ‘I should never have asked you to talk to her in the first place. Max explained what happened.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter now. Sally was worried, frustrated she wasn’t here, and confused. You have to admit, the news of your marriage did come out of the blue. You hadn’t even mentioned Dora to her before, after all.’

  Looking at his wrinkled hands, Stan spoke with regret. ‘I’ve handled it all very badly where Sally is concerned. I’m sorry you were caught in the middle of that.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased to say that the situation is much better now. Sally wants to chat to you tonight.’

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘Yes.’ Abi reached out and took Stan’s hand. ‘She is pleased for you, but reassurance is required. Oddly, it’s Sally who feels she has let you down because she isn’t here to care for you.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous; she had to put her own family first.’

  ‘Logically, she knows that, but real life is rarely logical. Not where emotions – especially guilt and worry – are concerned.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Stan sat up, his usual optimism returning. ‘What time do we do that Skype thing then?’

  ‘About ten o’clock. How about we watch rubbish on television until then?’

  ‘Now that is a plan,’ Stan looked a bit sheepish, ‘although I’ll probably drop off.’

  ‘No problem. I miss the sound of your gentle snoring sometimes.’

  Stan patted Abi’s hand. ‘You’ll wake me at ten won’t you?’

  ‘Of course – unless I’ve dropped off as well!’

  Cass wasn’t sure if she should put the kettle on or get out a bottle of wine. What sort of evening was this? A serious chat? A friendly get-together? It certainly wasn’t a romantic moment, so perhaps tea and coffee and not alcohol?

  Don’t flap! Cass could feel herself getting cross at her own indecision. It was as foreign to her as buying a bridesmaid’s dress off the peg.

  She decided they’d be better off in the kitchen, looking at each other across the table rather than squashed side by side on the sofa feeling awkward at their close proximity. The last thing Cass wanted was Dan thinking that she was interested in him. Even though she was. . .

  A crush on someone new would not make life any easier right now. Anything more than friendship would just muddy the already churned-up waters of her heart. It was irrelevant that images of Dan in his Army uniform kept popping into her head at the most inappropriate moments – that was merely old-fashioned lust, a different issue altogether.

  Dan was just a friend. Plus, he was a friend to all her friends. He had to remain an interesting outlet for her daydreams alone.

  Knocking together the three piles of paperwork on the table, Cass couldn’t begin to imagine what Dora wanted them for. The more she thought about what Dora was up to, the more Cass was inclined to believe that the soon-tobe Mrs Abbey really had lived the life she’d claimed to have; that it wasn’t just a fable woven together by a lonely old woman.

  Cass found herself speculating how she might have coped if she’d married as young as Dora did, and then had her happiness snapped away from her by war, when an overriding relief that Dan wasn’t in the Army any more swept over her; its strength took her by surprise. The thought of anything bad happening to him. . . Anything else bad. He still hadn’t told her what had happened to him in Afghanistan to make him leave the Army when he did.

  ‘Perhaps I’ll ask him tonight, if the subject comes up.’

  Cass was considering how she could steer the conversation in that direction without seeming too intrusive, or downright nosy, when the doorbell rang. The sound of Dan’s arrival was doing strange things to her pulse rate and she rushed with less calm than she would have liked to let him in.

  ‘Good evening.’ Dan smiled, but Cass’s honed business antennae sensed there was something rather awkward about his expression, as if he had something difficult to say, and wasn’t exactly sure how to say it.

  Rather than letting an atmosphere build, she said, ‘Thanks for acting as Dora’s messenger. I thought we’d sit in the kitchen. Maybe have a drink to help wash down whatever bad news you have for me.’

  ‘What makes you think I have bad news?’

  ‘Instinct.’

  Sighing as he followed Cass down the narrow corridor that joined the front door to the kitchen, Dan said, ‘I’d love to say that your instinct was wrong. However, you’re no fool, and you must have worked out that anything Dora has unearthed is likely to make you sad. I wish it were otherwise.’

  Determined to remain in business mode so that she didn’t break down in front of Dan, Cass sat at the table and beckoned to him to do the same. ‘Tea or coffee now, and alcohol after?’

  ‘No offence, but I’m awash with hot drinks after having Dora in my office most of the day. She doesn’t seem to be able to operate without a cup of tea or coffee to hand.’

  ‘Wine now then?’

  ‘Unless you’ve got a beer?’

  Inwardly cursing that she hadn’t thought that he’d probably want a lager or something, not wine, Cass apologised, ‘I’m afraid not. I don’t drink beer, so I didn’t think to buy any.’

  ‘There’s no reason why you should have. A glass of wine would be very welcome.’ Dan pointed to the papers in front of them. ‘Is this the correspondence Dora wants to see?’

  ‘I think so. I’ve split the piles into agency accounts, business mail, and that one is the handwritten stuff. There isn’t much of it. Most of my work, and my more private mail, is on the email or text message list. I printed out what I could at the library. There’s probably far more there than she needs. Why does she want to see it?’

  ‘May I look?’

  ‘Go ahead.’ Cass poured two full glasses of wine as she watched Dan flick through her paperwork. She felt strangely vulnerable as his eyes passed over her private letters. He was working too fast to be actually reading them, but it was still a disquieting sensation seeing him sort through her piles and extract occasional papers. ‘What are you searching for?’

  ‘Dora wants as much handwritten stuff as possible.’

  ‘It’s all in that third pile.’

  ‘Anything from Crystal?’

  ‘Crystal? Why?’ The unease she’d been trying to keep under wraps began to show in her voice.

  Dan pushed Cass’s glass of wine closer to her. ‘Here, you might need this.’

  ‘Stan,’ Abi whispered, gently rocking her friend’s knee, smiling over at Dora who had returned to the flat half an hour ago, and was already snoozing in the armchair, ‘it’s almost ten. Wake up.’

  ‘What? Abi?’ Stan sat up slowly as he came to. ‘Is it time already?’

  ‘It is.’ Abi put her finger to her lips and gestured towards Dora, whose snores were beginning to resemble the snuffling of a burrowing woodland creature.

  ‘Bless her.’ Stan looked affectionately at his fiancée, ‘All that espionage has worn her out. We’d best set up the laptop in the kitchen so we don’t wake her up.’

  Trying not to show that she was nervous, Abi was glad Sadie had woken up with them and would be coming through to the kitchen t
oo, so that she could ruffle her fur if things didn’t go to plan. There was nothing like her presence to keep things calm.

  ‘You ready, Abi girl?’

  ‘As soon as you are.’ Abi fired the laptop into life, and Stan settled himself into a chair.

  The second the Skype icon appeared, it was obvious that Sally had been waiting at her end for them to come online, for the line rang instantly. Sitting out of view of the webcam, Abi gave Stan the thumbs-up. ‘There you go, just press the video call button.’ Smiling, she added, ‘It’ll be alright, Stan.’

  With a brief nod, Stan prepared to talk to his daughter.

  ‘I have been the biggest fool.’ Cass wasn’t sure where to look. The more Dan explained about what Dora had discovered, alongside what she suspected, the more her confused attraction to him increased.

  ‘No, you’re not a fool. You’ve been taken advantage of by the man you were in love with. He used your feelings to make you an easy target. The question now – a question that Dora wants these letters to help answer – is did Justin know the extent of the corruption, or was he partly innocent in the con as he claims.

  Cass didn’t want to meet Dan’s eye. She felt sick as she listened to Dan explain the full extent of Dora’s discovery – including the involvement of Justin’s PA.

  Crystal?

  They weren’t friends exactly, but as Crystal had risen through the ranks alongside Justin, going with him from the last job to his new one, Cass had got to know her well in a professional capacity. Although, she had obviously got her level of ambition very wrong.

  ‘And Jacinta thinks she is in control of this, but in fact it’s Crystal who is playing with the strongest hand?’

  ‘Dora said it’s like cards, and that, for now, both women have the best poker faces she’s encountered since the sixties.’

  Cass gave a rueful smile. ‘That sounds like Dora.’

  ‘Doesn’t it.’ Dan wanted to reach out a hand and comfort her, but Cass had pulled herself inward. Her arms were on her lap, and she’d hunched her shoulders inwards, as if she was trying to make herself smaller. ‘Cass, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. I was the fool, not you.’

  There was silence as they stared into their own wine glasses. Until, out of the blue, Dan said, ‘It was a child.’

  ‘A child?’

  ‘The reason I left Afghanistan. I couldn’t save a child.’

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  ‘A child?’ Cass forgot her decision to be reserved, and found her hand was holding Dan’s before she’d considered that he might not want comforting.

  Reassured, as he put his free palm over hers, Cass immediately felt his body heat spread up her arm and fill her up. Trying to dismiss the sudden acceleration in her pulse rate, and hoping he was too distracted by what he had started to tell her to notice, she gently said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘As you’ll know from the reading the newspapers, civilian casualties were as frequent for us in the Camp Bastion hospital as military casualties. And I saw so many children with limbs blown off, too many. . .enough for a lifetime. . .’

  Cass squeezed his palm tighter. She wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or just to the room in general now. Dan’s eyes had dulled, and his face was pale as he articulated the words that had formed the basis of his nightmares for years.

  ‘A few days before I was due to agree to extend my stay to help treat the last wave of casualties before Britain pulled out of the conflict, a woman came in. I say woman, but she wasn’t much more than a child herself. Nineteen at the most. I never did find out for sure. . .’

  Cass felt a lump forming in her throat. Dan was so capable, so strong. To see him like this, touchingly vulnerable and even afraid, made her feel privileged and humbled.

  Taking a small sip of wine, Dan seemed to come back to himself and turned back to Cass, looking directly at her green eyes. ‘She was pregnant. A mortar had hit her village, and she’d been trapped under rubble for hours before they got her out. Many more hours had passed before she reached us at the hospital.’

  ‘Oh, Dan. . .’ Cass could already see where this was leading, and a single tear ran down the side of her face.

  Wiping the tear away, Dan flipped his hand over and grasped Cass’s hand properly, weaving their fingers together. ‘I was the medic who prepped her for surgery. Her English was fractured, but then, so is my Afghan. Between us we made each other as clear as we could. She told me if the baby could not be saved, then she didn’t want to live.’

  The image of a small, frightened pregnant woman flashed before Cass’s eyes and refused to leave.

  ‘I went with her into surgery. She came out. The baby didn’t.’ Dan’s voice cracked, and Cass could see he was fighting not to cry now, and Cass wondered if he’d ever told anyone this before. ‘Her face when I had to tell her. . .I won’t forget. Not ever.’

  ‘But it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t drop the bomb and you weren’t the surgeon.’

  ‘Makes no difference. I have no idea which side the mortar belonged to, nor does it matter that I know that the surgeon did everything in her power to save them both. It was me who’d had to promise her I’d let her die if the child could not be saved.’ He shook his head sharply. ‘It was the only way to get her into theatre. I knew it was a lie when I said it. I assumed she did too.’

  Cass was fairly sure she knew what the answer to her next question was going to be, but she had to be sure, and sensed that Dan actually needed to say the words. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I had a day off the next day. My first in weeks. When I got back to the ward the following the day I was met by the news that she had stolen tablets while there had been an emergency elsewhere. She took them all. There were over sixty of them.’

  The silence in the kitchen seemed to wrap itself around Cass. She could feel the air against her skin as her lips dried and her eyes coated with a fresh film of tears. She had no words. What could anyone say?

  Stretching her other hand out, she felt the slight shake in Dan’s body as he took it, fighting not to let go of the grief he’d held in for so long.

  Not sure why she did it, why her dislike of excessive displays of emotion suddenly didn’t matter, Cass said, ‘Let go, Dan. It’s time.’

  Stan wrapped Dora in a big hug as Abi closed down the laptop, her shoulders almost sagging with relief.

  Sally had been beyond apologetic. Her regret for aiming her hasty anger and guilt at Abi was clear, and after listening to Stan, and hearing all about Dora, seeing for herself how much joy twinkled in her father’s eyes when he spoke about his fiancée, and being introduced to a now wide-awake Dora via Skype, she had given them her blessing.

  Dora was still beaming as Abi got up to leave. It was almost eleven thirty, and suddenly Abi felt very tired.

  ‘Thank you, Abi.’ Stan kissed her cheek as she roused a reluctant Sadie into life, ‘I don’t know what we’d do without you.’

  ‘I have no doubt you’d manage just fine.’ Abi yawned. ‘But you are very welcome. I’m so relieved Sally has come round.’

  Dora sank onto the sofa, as if her body had also just realised how late it was. ‘Oh, and thanks again for giving me Sasha’s details. They were very useful.’

  ‘I hadn’t dared ask, to be honest.’ Abi gave a half-smile. She still wasn’t sure if she’d been helping Cass or not by passing on Sasha’s information.

  ‘I discovered a great deal. Dan went over to Cass’s a few hours ago to tell her what I’d found out, and hopefully to find some evidence to back my theories up. I suspect he’s home by now, but he hasn’t reported how she took the news yet. He probably assumed we were asleep by now.’

  Not wanting to gossip about her neighbour, Abi simply nodded. ‘I’ll go and see if she is alright in the morning.’

  ‘You’re a good girl.’

  ‘I try.’ Abi stifled another yawn. ‘Come on, Sadie, let’s go and see if Max is still awake.’

  ‘C
an I get you something stronger?’

  Dan smiled weakly as Cass pointed to the bottle of very expensive whisky that she’d originally bought for Justin. ‘I’d love to, but I have to drive back to the flats.’

  ‘You could stay.’ Cass quickly added, ‘I have a spare room.’

  Dan looked down at their still entwined hands. ‘See! I said you were a lot kinder than you thought you were, didn’t I?’

  Sighing, Cass followed his eye line and fixed her own gaze on the vision of their locked palms. Her pale fingers, tipped with long red nails, fitted so perfectly over his larger tanned hands. His fingernails were neatly clipped and clean, his hands free of blemishes, unlike his right wrist, which now she looked closely didn’t just have a small rose tattooed on it, but a scar. A scar that had become the stalk of the yellow rose.

  She looked up at him questioningly.

  ‘Sometimes we had to collect casualties from the front. I was injured. Many got worse.’

  ‘Why the rose? If I were you, I’d be proud of that scar.’ Cass had an irresistible urge to kiss it. Tenderly, just to make him feel better. She’d done it before she’d registered what she was doing, and then, flushed with embarrassment at the move, lowered her eyes back to the piles of documents Dan had come to collect several hours ago.

  ‘Yellow roses signify friendship. I lost friends out there. I made the scar into a small memorial for them.’

  Thankful that he hadn’t commented on her kiss, Cass tilted her head in appreciation of his gesture towards his fallen comrades. Then, with a sigh, she said, ‘It seems petty to even ask this now, but do you think Dora knows what she’s doing?’

  ‘Honestly, I have no idea. But she’s convinced she is on to something, and listening to her on the phone, sorting out her enquiries. . .well, she sounds so professional. All my doubts about her past have gone. Whoever it is she is talking to in London now is way beyond Sasha in influence.’