A Match Made in Devon

by Cathy Bramley

  I told him what I knew about Mr Carmichael, which wasn’t a lot other than he’d said he was down here on business and he’d been on a mission to find the lifeboat house.

  ‘This is exactly what I was worried about when I saw that piece in the paper,’ he groaned. ‘An artist, you say?’

  ‘Of landscapes,’ I said weakly.

  ‘So what would he want a derelict boat house for?’ he said, puzzled.

  I cleared my throat. ‘I don’t know. I have history with his daughter. I thought at first it might be something to do with that, but he denied it.’

  ‘Whatever he’s here for, we need to keep him out of this public meeting,’ Jude muttered. ‘He mustn’t know what we’re up to.’

  ‘Leave that with me,’ I said, anxious to redeem myself. I’d think of something …

  It was time to be heading back ready to open Eliza’s shop at nine. I stood up and looked towards the cove. Its beauty took my breath away. ‘Look at that view.’

  ‘You should see it from out there.’ Jude nodded towards the sea. ‘The curve of the bay, the boat house at one end, the cottages at the other, the fields rising from the cliffs and the boats in the harbour just smudges of colour as they bob on the waves.’

  The thought of someone spoiling it brought a lump to my throat.

  My throat tightened. ‘Jude, I’m so sorry about Mr Carmichael. I brought the Maidens of Mayfair here. Without them there’d have been no photograph of the boat house in the national press. I feel responsible.’

  ‘Hey.’ He leaned against me. ‘Do not blame yourself. You weren’t to know.’

  ‘But what if the council won’t listen?’

  ‘Then we will fight them on the beaches,’ said Jude, deadpan.

  I snorted. ‘Was that your Winston Churchill impression?’

  He pretended to puff on a cigar. ‘Never give in, never, never, never.’

  ‘And also,’ I said, grinning, ‘never give up your day job.’

  He took my hand and we retraced our steps back down the cliff, entertaining each other with funny voices. Brightside Cove was very lucky to have a man like Jude on its side. If I had to make a list of things I’d miss when I went back to London, Jude Trevone might very well be at the top.

  ‘Hey, beauty!’

  It was late in the afternoon when the taxi dropped Eliza off outside the shop door. She pushed her way in, weighed down with bags, her dungarees hanging off her shoulder as usual.

  ‘It’s Brightside Cove’s newest celebrity mermaid!’ I jumped up from behind the counter. ‘Welcome home.’

  I’d only had one customer this afternoon: a tourist who’d wanted stamps, which we didn’t sell, but he’d already tried Jethro who’d shouted at him and told him to “go home” and then he wouldn’t need to send a postcard at all, would he? On the plus side, Jude and I had managed over email to get leaflets and posters designed and printed, I’d discovered at least ten community groups who said they’d attend our public meeting and I’d given a radio interview to Devon Sounds about playing a nurse in a Second World War drama and how important it was to remember local history, and by the way, I was spearheading a campaign to save the lifeboat house if anyone was free to attend our event on Friday …

  ‘Oh home,’ Eliza sighed, trailing a hand over a display of hand-painted stones. ‘London is just brilliant, but loud. How do you stand all that noise?’ She clamped her hands to the side of her face, doing a mean impression of Edvard Munch’s The Scream. ‘The cars and sirens, music blaring out of every shop. People yacking and yelling at each other all the time.’

  She paused for a second to kiss my cheek.

  ‘I’m sure you gave as good as you got,’ I said with a grin. ‘Sit and tell me everything.’

  I made her a cup of herbal tea while she peeled off her shoes, rubbed her swollen feet and told me all about the hotel, which had mood lighting depending on whether she wanted to feel energized or relaxed. She chose somewhere in the middle – aqua, which made her feel like she was underwater.

  ‘Obviously,’ I said, handing her a mug.

  ‘The whole experience was immense,’ she said, inhaling the steam from the tea. ‘It was so brilliant to get the positive message out there that we should celebrate our body diversity, and that being a mermaid is about feeling free and confident. But the crazy bit was afterwards. Five people called into the show begging me to open a mermaid school in their seaside towns. And then this researcher woman asked me if I’d consider going on Dragons’ Den. I said why would I do that, and she looked at me like I’d got a screw loose and explained that I was sitting on a goldmine and that with the right investment I could go national. But enough about me. What have you been up to?’

  I gawped at her. ‘Eliza, that’s incredible. You must be blown away.’

  She blinked rapidly. ‘It’s all going so fast. I’m out of my depth.’

  ‘You’re a mermaid, remember,’ I said firmly. ‘You can swim to the surface any time you like.’

  ‘You’re good.’ She grinned and then her face fell. ‘But what do I tell them? And more to the point, do I even want all this?’

  ‘Only you can answer that one,’ I said. ‘All I’ll say is: always be you. Be true to yourself. Listen to what your heart tells you and you won’t go wrong.’

  ‘Wow, is that actually your advice or did you get it from a script?’

  ‘Busted.’ I grinned. ‘The matron at Victory Road had said something along those lines to a hospital porter who’d been thinking of becoming a priest. I thought it was quite apt.’

  I gave her a hug and listened as she told me about the price of a vodka and Coke in London. I loved giving advice; it was so much easier to solve other people’s problems than my own.

  Eliza sent me home soon after that and I found Theo in the garage, sorting the contents into various indistinguishable piles.

  ‘Chuck, sell, keep,’ he said, pointing to the piles in turn. ‘I’m having a clear-out.’

  I had a sudden flashback to when Mum had her first stroke. It had only been a mild one, but she’d seen it as a sign to start packing up her things, that her days for this world were numbered. By the time Archie and I had had the chance to visit her, she’d been through the house like a dose of salts. The few remnants of our childhood had stood waiting for us in cardboard boxes, the attic was empty and she’d sent most of her own things to the charity shop. I’d been heartbroken at the time; I’d always thought that one day I’d have the chance to search the whole house for photographs of my dad, but it seemed I’d left it too late.

  ‘Don’t be too ruthless,’ I said with a shiver, ‘don’t get rid of anything you might regret.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Theo paled. ‘Some of this is Kate’s. I’ve only just escaped one divorce threat; I don’t want to face another.’

  He rummaged through the ‘chuck’ pile and drew out a glittery disco ball and a small denim jacket, setting them on top of the ‘keep’ pile.

  ‘Wise move. What’s the plan, anyway?’

  ‘I reckon I can divide this space into two, put in mezzanine floors and create two studio apartments,’ said Theo, polishing a brass door knocker in the shape of a fox’s head on his T-shirt. He set it carefully back in its box and on top of the pile for selling. ‘What do you think?’

  A glow of pride spread through me.

  ‘I think you’re on fire, that’s what I think. You’re really throwing yourself into this holiday venture, aren’t you?’ I said, smiling at his bashful expression.

  ‘I want to build a business that’s big enough to support a family,’ he said gruffly. ‘Given time.’

  ‘Kate will love that.’

  We grinned at each other for a moment, swallowing our respective lumps.

  They’d agreed to speak to each other nightly now and Theo was walking round in a permanent state of bliss, a dreamy faraway look on his face. It warmed my heart to see it, even if it was difficult to get him to concentrate on anything for more than five
minutes. When I’d left for the shop this morning, he’d covered the living room with dustsheets, saying that he was going to try sweeping the chimney and when I’d come back for lunch he’d abandoned that job and he was up a ladder, checking that the thatched roof hadn’t been damaged by the wind. But on the basis that we’d all thought only a week ago that he was suicidal, I wasn’t complaining. This new energetic Theo was a big improvement on the wet lettuce I’d found when I first arrived.

  He gave himself a shake and started throwing old paintbrushes into a black bin bag.

  ‘Oh, talking of families, Archie called. He wanted to know whether we had a spare cottage. I said Kittiwake’s Cabin was empty so he’s arriving tonight for a few days.’

  I stared at him. ‘For a holiday?’

  Theo shrugged. ‘Didn’t ask. I explained that you were in the spare room, and that the living room was out of action waiting for a proper chimney sweep, otherwise he could have stayed in the house, but he said he preferred having his own space.’

  I was amazed. Archie rarely took a day off at the weekend, let alone during the week. Perhaps Molly had got in touch. For him to pay more than a fleeting visit to Brightside Cove he must be even keener on her than I thought. Love certainly was in the air today; maybe a second match made in Devon could be on the cards?

  ‘Have you seen or heard anything from our guests?’ I asked.

  ‘The guy asked about the art scene.’

  My senses switched to high alert. ‘And what did you say?’

  He scratched his head. ‘Told him about the annual art festival in Shapford, the one Pen-Pen and Brucey-darling went to.’ We shared a smile at the memory of our naked artists. ‘I should have given him all that claptrap about the light down here being unique, but I didn’t think about it until afterwards.’

  ‘Good, and if he asks again, don’t mention it,’ I said. ‘In fact, tell him art isn’t popular in these parts.’

  He looked at me like I’d gone mad. ‘Okay, whatever you say. Flowers must be popular, though; you’ve had some delivered today.’

  I sprinted off to investigate.

  Theo had left the bouquet propped up in the sink in water. They were exquisite: a hand-tied bunch of pale-pink roses, pink-tipped lilies and fuchsia gerberas, tied with curls of white ribbon. My pulse was racing as I ripped the little envelope away from the cellophane and I tried to make myself calm down. They were probably just from Sapphire to say thank you for her hen party. My eyes skipped over the words, not believing what I was seeing.

  No. This couldn’t be real.

  I released the card from my fingers, flinging it as if it had stung me. I gasped for air, my heart hammering in disbelief. After a few seconds I picked it up again with shaking hands and tried to focus on the typed words.

  Congratulations on that amazing cliffhanger episode of Victory Road. Your dad would be so proud. T x

  Who was T? Was this the same person who’d been sending me flowers anonymously back in London? And how did he or she know my dad?

  Chapter 29

  Later that evening, Archie was waving his mobile phone fruitlessly in wide arcs around the kitchen in Kittiwake’s Cabin. ‘I’d forgotten just how back of beyond this place is.’

  ‘You’ll get used to it. Now, sit and eat it all,’ I ordered, setting a big fry-up on the table. ‘And this.’ I placed a plate of bread and butter at his elbow.

  He grinned. ‘I don’t know why you’re treating me like an invalid, but I’m not complaining.’

  ‘I’m doing it because you look like death warmed up, you’re too thin and you’re willingly taking a holiday, i.e. you’re not your normal self.’

  ‘Gee thanks.’ He squeezed ketchup on to the plate with a loud splat.

  ‘Also, you’re all the family I’ve got. If you snuff it, who’s going to worry about me?’ I poured us both a glass of water and smiled sweetly at him.

  ‘Jude?’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Molly told me you two were canoodling down in the cove.’

  ‘Is nothing sacred?’ I flushed. ‘We’re just pals, he even said so himself. But while we’re on the subject of Molly, is she why you’re here?’

  ‘Um. Not really.’ He stabbed both eggs with his fork and stared as the yellow yolk mixed with the ketchup. A cold panic gripped me suddenly. He must be ill. The doctor had warned him only a month ago to ease up a bit. And there was I making jokes about snuffing it.

  I sat down in the chair opposite and rested my hand on his arm.

  ‘If something’s wrong, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?’

  He set his knife and fork down and sighed. ‘Do you remember my first big break outside of the uni business?’

  I nodded. ‘The big hotel on the front? How could I forget our celebratory Japanese dinner?’

  We shared a smile; while he’d still been at uni he’d won a contract that had taken his small laundry venture to the next level, doubling his turnover. He’d advertised for new staff, looked for bigger premises and never looked back. He’d been so proud that he’d invited Mum and me out for dinner. Mum didn’t come – she said it was sinful to be self-congratulatory. And besides she didn’t like the seaside. A small piece of me never forgave her for that.

  ‘Over ten years I’ve been doing business with them, giving them a top-class service too. Last week they asked to renegotiate our terms, because someone else has offered them lower prices. This week three more of my biggest customers have done the same.’

  ‘Do you know who this other firm is?’

  He smiled wanly. ‘Yes, and I can’t compete. They’re national; they can afford to undercut me long enough for me to go bust.’

  ‘Where’s the loyalty from your customers?’ I said, outraged on his behalf. ‘Surely they’ll stick by you in return for the service you’ve given them over the years.’

  ‘Money is too tight for niceties these days.’

  ‘So what can you do?’

  ‘Make a plan of attack.’ He heaved another sigh. ‘That’s why I’m here; I thought a few days away from the office looking at the lovely views of Brightside Cove would help clear my head.’

  My heart dipped. ‘And I thought you’d come to spend time with Molly.’

  ‘I hope to do that too.’ He grinned. ‘She’s the lovely view. I fully intend to be her not-so-secret admirer, whether she likes it or not.’

  ‘Oh, that reminds me. I thought I’d got a secret admirer. But now I’m not so sure.’

  I pulled the little florist’s card from my jeans pocket and I held it between my fingers, adrenalin whooshing through my veins. Normally I told Archie everything; we had no secrets from each other. But where Dad was concerned, Archie was a closed book. He must remember more about him than I did, but he never shared those memories with me.

  ‘I’ve been sent some flowers.’ I handed the card over and held my breath.

  ‘“Congratulations on that amazing cliffhanger episode” …’ Archie’s frown deepened as he got to the end of the message. He looked up at me. ‘“Your dad would be so proud”?’

  ‘How weird is that?’ I said with a catch in my throat. ‘Who do you think could have sent them?’

  He shook his head. ‘Have you ever had anything like this before?’

  ‘I’ve been getting anonymous flowers for a while. Never a mention of Dad on them, though.’

  ‘Ignore it.’ He handed back the card. ‘Probably just a crank.’

  I swallowed back my disappointment. ‘But what if it isn’t?’

  He pursed his lips. ‘Still ignore it.’

  ‘I tell you what I think,’ I said, my stomach fizzing with hope. ‘I think Dad’s out there and I think someone wants me to come looking for him.’

  ‘Well,’ Archie pushed his chair back, ‘good luck with that.’

  I stared at him. ‘Don’t you want to know where he is? Aren’t you at all curious?’

  He ran a hand over his stubble. ‘He chose a different life, Nina. One that didn’t include us. Why should I ca
re about someone who doesn’t care about me?’

  ‘How do you know that?’ I said, pouncing on him. ‘All sorts of things happen between couples when they split up. For all we know it was Mum’s fault. She moved us away from where he could find us.’

  ‘We only moved twenty miles,’ he said patiently. ‘We weren’t exactly impossible to track down.’

  ‘Maybe there was a reason for it. I’ll never forget a story in the newspapers when I was about fifteen about a singer being reunited with her father who had disappeared from her life when she was a baby. He saw her on the TV and contacted her.’

  ‘I hope she told him where to go?’

  ‘No, he became part of her life. I think that’s been in the back of my mind since I was little. I’ve always had this crazy idea that he’d spot my name one day and get in touch.’

  ‘Is that why you became an actress?’ His face softened and he reached for my hand. ‘That is so you.’

  ‘Yes. No. That’s over-simplifying it. I’d have become an actress anyway. But that story sowed the seed of an idea in my head and I’ve kept it alive ever since. And maybe it’s worked? Maybe whoever sent the flowers could be trying to put us back in touch with him?’

  ‘Not us,’ Archie said, raising his palms. ‘Some humans do bad things to each other every single day. And it’s natural to hold on to the belief that our own parents aren’t like that. But sometimes they are. Sometimes we’re better off without them. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done okay without Dad’s help.’

  I thought of Jude and how badly his parents had treated him. Archie was right; some children were better off without their parents. But our dad had shown us nothing but kindness right up until he left.

  ‘You and me against the world?’ he murmured, drawing me into a hug.

  I nodded yes, but deep down I felt like I was on my own. My few precious memories of Dad were happy ones; I didn’t believe that my childhood had been better for not having him in it. These flowers had given me fresh hope. And I didn’t know how I was going to prove I was right, but I was going to give it a shot.

  Archie and I didn’t see much of each other the next day. He did some work and then went out in the afternoon while I drummed up support for our public meeting. Even though we hadn’t had much time, Jude and I were hoping that we’d have a good turnout.