A Match Made in Devon

by Cathy Bramley

  ‘Imagine,’ I purred, dragging my eyes away from his neat bum in his jeans.

  He turned to examine the louvre windows along each side. ‘We could replace all these panels with glass, change the double doors to triple-glazed sliding doors and—’

  ‘Move in?’ I suggested with a glint in my eye. ‘It would make a lovely—’ I interrupted myself with a gasp. ‘Bolt hole! That was how Mr Carmichael described it. He said he’d like a bolt hole by the sea. I bet that’s what he’s planning.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Jude said smugly. ‘He’d never get planning permission so close to the water. He’d certainly never get insurance.’

  ‘Ah, then that can’t be it,’ I said, deflated. ‘He’s too smart to buy something that he couldn’t use.’

  ‘So what is he up to?’

  The glossy brochure I’d spotted yesterday on the steps was still there, which gave me an idea. I picked it up and turned it over to read the phone number on the back.

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ I said, already tapping in the number.

  He cocked one eyebrow dubiously but nonetheless squashed on the step beside me to listen in. The heat of his body against mine did nothing to quell my already racing heart.

  ‘It’s ringing,’ I whispered, ‘wish me luck.’

  ‘Good luck,’ he murmured, giving me such a wide smile that a dimple appeared in his cheek.

  We looked at each other, listening to the ringing tone and my eyes roamed his handsome face, from his long amber lashes to the stubble on his strong chin, to the faint scar on his head, a reminder to me of Jude’s rocky start in life. I could feel his breath on my cheek and smell his heavenly scent, and I thought how much I’d like to kiss him and feel his arms around me.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mernick’s, how may I direct your call?’ announced a perky voice.

  ‘Oh hello.’ I snapped out of my daydream and put on a breathy high-pitched voice. ‘So sorry to bother you but my father wanted to ask a question regarding planning permission for the Brightside Cove lifeboat house?’

  ‘Please hold the line while I connect you.’

  ‘Mernick,’ growled a deep voice.

  Mr Mernick sounded like he started his day by gargling with fish hooks. Jude’s eyes widened and I felt a prickle of perspiration on my top lip.

  ‘Hi there, my father, Campion Carmichael, asked me to call with a query.’

  ‘Ah, yes?’ The voice on the other end brightened considerably. ‘Fire away.’

  ‘It’s about planning requirements, oh,’ I said with a tinkly laugh, ‘I’ve forgotten what he said to ask exactly, silly me, but do you think he’ll have any problems?’

  ‘For an art gallery? Shouldn’t think so. The council are practically falling over themselves to get shot of the place, they’ll be snapping your father’s hand off.’

  Jude and I stared at each other. So that was what Mr Carmichael was up to. Of course, it made total sense. And, I thought for one disloyal millisecond, it would be a beautiful space for selling art.

  ‘Hello? Are you still there?’

  ‘Yes, thank you so much, he’ll be so relieved to hear that.’

  ‘Excellent, excellent, do send him my regards, er, I didn’t catch your name, dear?’

  ‘Oh, got to go, Mr Mernick, call coming through from my father, I’ll remember you to him.’

  I stabbed the end call button and smiled at Jude, who smiled grimly back.

  ‘An art gallery? None of the local people who turned up yesterday will see any benefit from that.’

  He stood and closed the doors at the back of the shed; he looked totally downcast.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, feeling the weight of his disappointment as if it was my own. ‘At least we know what we’re up against. Knowledge is power, and all that.’

  ‘But if Mernick’s right and the council is as keen as he says they are to get rid of the boat house, I don’t see how we can win.’

  He slung an arm casually around my shoulders as he led me to the doors and I went all tingly at the touch of his skin. The two of us walked out and I waited while Jude pulled both doors closed and turned the big old key in the lock. Mabel jumped to her feet and pushed her wet nose into my hand.

  Until that moment I’d been wrangling with what to do about next Friday: fly to Scotland with Maxine or stay and help Jude. Now my decision was easy, he and I were in this together.

  ‘Of course we can win,’ I insisted. ‘They haven’t heard our proposal yet. We’ll blow their socks off.’

  His eyes searched mine. ‘But you won’t be here. Your boss wants you in Scotland.’

  ‘I will be here,’ I blurted out.

  He passed a hand over his hair and puffed out his cheeks.

  ‘I’m touched, truly, but I can’t allow you to jeopardize your career for this.’

  I tilted my chin up. ‘I don’t remember asking for your permission.’

  His lips tweaked into a smile and I stepped closer and pulled him in for a hug.

  I was going to be in so much trouble with Maxine. But as his arms went around me and I felt his warm hands on my spine, frankly, I didn’t give a damn.

  Chapter 32

  The following afternoon, after our overnight guests had been and gone, I wandered down to the village to see Eliza. It was Sunday and the Mermaid Gift and Gallery in theory should have been closed, but she’d asked me to give her a hand with something and so, intrigued and feeling like a gooseberry after Archie had gone out with Molly leaving me with Kate and Theo, who were back from Birmingham, I was happy to oblige.

  There were big SALE banners plastered across the shop windows, and inside more red and white signs fluttered from the ceiling. The seascape pictures had been taken off the back wall and sat in piles here and there. Several rotating stands housing everything from postcards to personalized pens (no Ninas, as usual, I’d checked) were pushed into the corner by the counter and Eliza was on her knees stripping animals made from shells, beads and rather too much glue from a shelf and stacking them carefully in a box.

  ‘Can I interest you in a shell cat? Or maybe a mouse?’ She held one up after the other. ‘Seventy-five per cent off?’

  ‘Um.’ I pulled an unconvinced face.

  ‘Exactly.’ She sat back on her heels. ‘Which is why I’m having a mammoth revamp.’

  She handed me a box, pointed me in the direction of a display of cork coasters and placemats illustrated with sea birds of Britain, and told me to get packing.

  ‘So what’s the plan?’ I grimaced at a particularly mean-looking cormorant on a placemat and shoved it in the box.

  ‘I’m doing what I should have done years ago.’

  ‘You’re not closing down?’ I said, aghast. I looked around at the little shop and all its treasures. That would be awful. But then if Campion Carmichael opened a gallery …

  ‘Over my dead body,’ I muttered aloud inadvertently. He wasn’t opening a gallery. Full stop.

  Eliza giggled. ‘No need to panic! The Tylers have run a gift shop here for decades, course I’m not closing down.’

  She got up and put the kettle on.

  ‘I inherited this shop from Mum and apart from a name change and adding a few new lines, it’s still the cute little gift shop it’s always been. Now it’s finally dawned on me that I can run it my way. I can’t remember the last time I sold one of these shell animals. But the nautical bunting and the candles and the driftwood sculptures are really popular. So I’m taking the 80:20 rule and applying it to my business.’

  I looked blankly at her.

  ‘Twenty per cent of my products generate eighty per cent of my profit.’ She shrugged. ‘So I ditch the non-profitable stuff and make some more room.’

  ‘Cor,’ I said, impressed. ‘One encounter with a researcher from Dragons’ Den and you know all the jargon. You’ll be wearing power suits and heels next.’

  Eliza clanked mugs and let out such a long and heartfelt sigh that her shoulders dropped a full ten inches. ‘Don�
�t say the DD words. Not today. Let’s just concentrate on what’s in these four walls, it’s much less scary.’

  ‘Okay.’

  I looked around the shop at the chaos that Eliza had created since I was last in here. In the space of a week, Eliza had entertained Sapphire and her hens, been plastered on the pages of a newspaper, featured on morning telly and had received business offers from around the country. No wonder she was scared.

  ‘It’s all moving a bit fast, isn’t it?’ I sidled up to her.

  ‘It’s mental.’ Eliza’s turquoise eyes blinked at me. ‘Since the whole Mermaids of Mayfair stuff, my feet haven’t touched the ground.’

  ‘Sounds ideal,’ I said, nudging her, to cheer her up. ‘For a mermaid.’

  ‘Ha. Very good.’ She handed me a cup of green liquid that smelled vaguely of wee. ‘Kelp tea, also ideal for a mermaid.’

  I sipped it and almost spat it out. ‘Intriguing flavour. Chewing gum?’

  I offered her one from a battered pack in my pocket but she declined. The chewing gum reminded me of Freddie Major, my on-screen boyfriend, and his habitually eggy breath; I’d always offered him some before a scene together. He’d rarely accepted, worse luck. Jude, by comparison, tasted delicious: of the sea and the salty air and sexy man … A tremor of electricity shot through me. I had to stop doing this, thinking these thoughts. Besides, I’d given Jude the perfect opportunity to kiss me in the boat house yesterday and he hadn’t taken it. Just a hug. Pals, it seemed, was the extent of his interest in me.

  ‘Nina, your eyes have gone all glassy.’ Eliza snapped her fingers to wake me up.

  ‘Sorry. I am now all ears.’

  We perched on a couple of packing boxes, cradling our mugs.

  ‘As I was saying, my mermaid business is booming,’ she continued, ‘I’ve got offers to open mermaid schools at ten different locations around the coast, a top TV show is trying to throw money at me to go “big”. And I’ve got more radio and magazine interview requests than I can shake my tail at. And all because Brightside Cove has got the first mermaid school of its kind in the UK.’

  ‘You’ll be living the dream.’ I smiled proudly at her. ‘But I’m sensing a but.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m already living the dream. Or I thought I was. I thought I’d got everything I wanted right here, that Brightside Cove was where I belonged. Managing this shop, running the mermaid school, it’s enough, isn’t it? Or do I want more? I don’t know.’

  ‘Sometimes people just hit on a brilliant idea and it goes stratospheric. I think that’s what has happened with you and your mermaid school. When the world seems scary and dark, people are drawn to things that take them away from reality for a while. Being a mermaid for a day is a crazy and fun idea and exactly what we need right now. Basically, Eliza,’ I concluded with a grin, ‘you’ve got the power to cheer up the entire country.’

  ‘I don’t want power,’ she said, horrified. ‘I don’t want a mermaid empire; I don’t even want loads of money.’

  My heart ached for her; she’d been bamboozled by opportunities and couldn’t see the wood for the trees, or should that be the coral for the reef?

  ‘Don’t panic.’ I took a postcard from the rack and picked up a dusty ‘Zachariah’ personalized pen. ‘Here. Make a list of what you do want. Forget reality.’

  ‘And then what?’ She looked at me, eyes hopeful.

  ‘Then we make it happen,’ I said boldly.

  ‘Great,’ she breathed, eyes dancing. ‘Drink your tea.’

  Ten minutes and eight postcards later she was done.

  ‘That was so liberating.’ She handed me her efforts and got to her feet. ‘More kelp tea?’

  ‘I’ve had enough, thank you.’ For life, I added under my breath.

  ‘So,’ I said once I’d read through Eliza’s wish list, which was actually very sensible and included an indoor studio for her mermaid photo shoots in case of bad weather and employing a Saturday person to free up her time. ‘No Dragons’ Den?’

  She bit her lip. ‘Do you think I’m boring?’

  ‘You have pink hair and dress as a mermaid. So no.’

  ‘Success for me is having happy customers. Here in Brightside Cove.’ She shrugged. ‘I enjoyed my moment on TV, but I’m going to leave being famous to you. I’m going to miss you, though, when you go.’

  ‘Loads of time until then,’ I said briskly, mentally blocking out the thought. ‘Now I’d better go, I promised Kate I’d get her some stock cubes from Jethro for tonight’s dinner.’

  The last time I’d seen Jethro, he’d been cackling with glee at Campion Carmichael’s misfortune on the beach after his old friend Nora had given him a piece of her mind with her right foot and he’d tumbled into the boat. Today he was back to his normal gloomy self, slumped in his deckchair behind the counter.

  ‘’T’aint right at my age,’ he grumbled from underneath the peak of his Yankees baseball cap. ‘Working on a Sunday. Working at all, come to that.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have the afternoon off?’ I said, walking up and down the aisles until I found the small dried foods display. Kate had asked for beef stock but she’d have to make do with turkey – probably left over from Christmas. I rubbed the dust off the box to check the date but it had worn away. Christmas in this millennium hopefully.

  ‘Nah, there’s always some idiot who needs …’ He paused to eye up what was in my hand. ‘Oxo or something. And if I wasn’t open, then what?’

  Do without? Drive elsewhere? I thought.

  ‘What would make you happy, Jethro?’

  ‘Eighty pence, please.’

  I rummaged for the change. ‘I mean it, if you only had a month left to live what would you do?’

  He harrumphed. ‘Easy. Empty the till. Burn the shop. Go on holiday.’

  My lips twitched. ‘And be a tourist? Heaven forbid.’

  ‘Well.’ He scowled at me, dropping my coins into the till and slamming it shut. ‘’T’aint fair.’

  It suddenly crossed my mind that maybe Jethro didn’t so much hate the tourists, but hated not being able to take a holiday himself. The shop was open seven days a week. Didn’t he ever get a day off?

  ‘Have you never fancied travelling?’ I said gently.

  He nodded, his rheumy old eyes softening. ‘Travelled the world in the army as a steward, I did. Ceylon, Egypt, Italy, even got as far as Vietnam. Best years of my life. Then when I got back here I found the girl I’d been too shy to ask to the dance before I joined up had got married to a fisherman.’

  ‘Nora?’

  ‘Nora,’ he echoed wistfully. ‘When I realized there was nothing here for me, I was about to set off travelling again. But then Dad got ill. His dying wish was for me to carry on the family business. Never been anywhere since. I’ve had to sit in this shop watching other people come and go on their holidays, and I’ve had to see Nora every day too. But Ned’s a good man; if she’d had to marry someone other than me, I was glad it was him.’

  My heart melted for him. No wonder he was such an old misery guts.

  ‘How long ago did your dad make that wish, Jethro?’

  He scratched his head, dislodging his cap and sucked in air. ‘Sixty years?’

  ‘Then you’ve done him proud.’ I pulled a small reporter’s notepad out of a rack near the till and handed over the one pound fifty to pay for it. ‘And I think it might be time to make a few wishes of your own come true. Here, go wild. Make a list of what would make you happy.’

  I left him writing a list, just as Eliza had done, and hummed cheerfully to myself on the way back to Driftwood Lodge. That was two people’s lives I’d sorted out today, now all I needed to do was to work out how to save the lifeboat house and convince Maxine to let me stay in Brightside Cove long enough to do it …

  Archie’s Range Rover was back in the courtyard, presumably having brought Molly with him, as we’d all been invited to dinner by Theo and Kate. I took a detour to Beaver’s Barn, and through the window I could see
Maxine hunched over the table, working as usual. She’d barely moved in six days.

  I knocked on her door and she opened it irritably. ‘Yes?’

  There was a pair of glasses nestled in her hair and she looked pale and tired. I felt a pang of concern for the long hours she’d been keeping. Most of our previous guests had left here with a bit of colour in their cheeks, a lightness to their step and far fewer wrinkles on their foreheads than they arrived with. If anything, Maxine looked more haggard than when she’d arrived.

  ‘Hi,’ I said brightly. ‘We wondered if you’d like to join us for Sunday dinner. We’re having Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes and Theo is rigging a laptop up to the TV so we can all look at the pictures from Kate’s travels after we’ve eaten.’

  She shuddered. ‘Someone else’s holiday photographs. Ugh. Is there anything more mind-numbing in the world?’

  ‘I’ll take that as a no, then.’

  ‘I’ll have the food, though; stick some on a plate and I’ll reheat it later. Thank you.’ She began to close the door and then hesitated. ‘I have to say,’ she said, gazing at me steadily, ‘I am underwhelmed by your reaction to the news about The Holy Coast. I’ve handed you the biggest part of your career and you’ve barely batted an eye. I expected you to be beating down my door wanting details. You haven’t even asked to see the script. Have I made a mistake by casting you as my leading lady?’

  I withered under her scrutiny. She looked so stern and disappointed. As well she might; I was disappointed with myself, to be honest. I had lots to say to her, I just didn’t quite have the words in the right order yet.

  ‘You haven’t made a mistake, Maxine. It just came as a shock, that’s all, and my plate has had an awful lot on it lately. And I have called by but you’ve always been on the phone.’

  She waved away my excuses with an impatient hand. ‘Just don’t let me down.’

  ‘I wouldn’t.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m … I’m trying not to let anyone down. That’s part of the problem.’

  She opened the door again fully and leaned against the frame. ‘If it’s Victory Road you’re worried about, you can relax,’ she said more gently. ‘Had an update from the writers. They’re definitely killing you off. Nurse Marjorie and Constable Hardy will be canoodling inside your cubicle on the ward when Nurse Elsie flatlines. They might need you for one more scene and that will be that. You’ll be free. Perfect timing, I think you’ll agree?’