An Endless Cornish Summer Read online

  Rose hadn’t minded not having a large family at her PhD ceremony, like some of the other students. She had her friends and was simply overjoyed she was alive but now she’d been given a second chance, she also wanted to live it to the max. She wanted to pursue her passion, expand her knowledge, enjoy a successful career, meet someone who made her laugh, and have lots of great sex with him – hopefully have a family if it was possible. Was all of that too much to ask?

  None of it would have even been possible to contemplate without the donor.

  Once again, she wondered why he hadn’t responded to her second letter or asked to get in touch. Their minimal communication so far had been carried out through the donor charity so she didn’t have an email address or phone number, just the card and her research. This wasn’t very promising, and yet … perhaps he might change his mind if he actually met her? It was a dangerous yet intoxicating idea.

  With a rising feeling of excitement, Rose drove off to the dig site the next morning. She’d already been once to introduce herself and had been struck by the stunning location. It was located a few hundred yards from the romantically named King Arthur’s Pool, slap bang in the middle of the Lizard. The moorland site was wildly beautiful with sweeping views and the distant sea visible on three sides. On a misty day, you probably wouldn’t be able to see more than a few yards but today it was glorious, with blue skies and skylarks twittering overhead.

  After leaving her car at the entrance to a field, which a farmer had allowed them to use, she tramped the mile or so across agricultural land to the moorland. She soon realised that she’d have to get fitter if she wanted to do all this walking to remote sites and work at the dig all summer.

  The dig area itself was roped off and there were a couple of open-sided tents to protect the finds plus a portaloo. Half a dozen students were kneeling down, scraping away at neat trenches. Rose breathed in, enjoying the scent of the freshly turned earth and the sight of people doing what they loved. She stayed for a while, hearing about the site and looking at some of the recent finds.

  Maddie might laugh at her, but she felt the location was incredibly atmospheric, imagining the ancient people who had built the stones. She relished the sun on her back, the wind in her hair and skylarks twittering overhead. From time to time she’d hear the distant whirr of helicopters from the naval base, but that was practically the only modern sound. She’d been sceptical about such things at one time, but personally, she felt that having a new lease of life had heightened her senses: colours, scents, sounds all seemed more intense than they were before.

  Feeling positive about her new job, she returned to the B&B, and resisted the urge to cross the estuary to see if she could spot Joey and Finn. In a little place like Falford, she was bound to meet them face to face at some point, a thought that sent alternate thrills of excitement and apprehension through her.

  There was no rush to reveal herself. She needed to approach her task like a dig; prepare, be patient, unearth the truth with the same delicate care she’d unearth a fragile piece of pottery or jewellery.

  After all, she had the rest of the summer … Her pulse picked up. She had to admit, now reality had hit, she was way more nervous than she’d thought about revealing who she was..

  The next day, Rose returned from the dig and went to visit Oriel at the flat. She found Cornish Magick closed but the side entrance was open. Her nose twitched at the pungent scent of patchouli oil and she could hear Oriel singing along to the radio. When she entered the flat, Rose found her standing on a step stool, wearing pink Marigolds and flicking a feather duster at the light fitting.

  Rose looked around, her eyes widening. ‘Wow! Is this the same place?’

  All the clutter was gone, and the room looked twice as large. The kitchenette surfaces were full of cleaning products.

  ‘I’ve been dusting the cobwebs off the light fitting.’

  ‘Have you done all of this?’ Rose noted the scrubbed floorboards, which now had a dhurrie rug. There was also a brand-new sofa. ‘I didn’t expect new stuff.’

  ‘Auntie Lynne and Nige did most of it while I worked in the shop. Nige works for a builders’ and he said the furniture had to meet the latest fire regs so he went to Truro and got a new one. I was surprised he was so helpful to be honest.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’s not normally so obliging and that worries me,’ she said. ‘Anyway,’ she added briskly, as if she’d thought better of elaborating on Nigel’s motives. ‘It’s a sofa bed,’ Oriel added, ‘in case you want an overnight guest.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s fantastic. I can have my friend Maddie to stay,’ Rose said, imagining Maddie’s face when she saw the flat.

  ‘You really like it, then?’

  ‘I can hardly believe the transformation! Thank you and please thank your auntie and her boyfriend too. Now, what else can I do to help finish it off?’

  ‘I haven’t had time to tackle the loo yet. You could do that.’

  ‘Show me where the bleach is and I’ll get to work.’

  The bathroom wasn’t as bad as feared and an hour later, it was respectable. ‘I always wanted an avocado-coloured bath,’ Rose said, as she and Oriel took mugs of coffee to the door to survey their handiwork. ‘And I didn’t have the heart to throw out the loo roll fairy.’

  Oriel giggled as they looked at the pink crocheted cover placed over a loo roll on the windowsill.

  ‘It’ll look cosy with some nice tea lights. I’ll bring some of the sandalwood ones up from the shop,’ Oriel said. ‘And some camomile room spray for the sofa and lavender bags for your cupboards.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Rose replied, wondering if her nose could take any more floral scents. Surrounded by them every day, Oriel must hardly notice them now.

  An hour later, the flat was finally habitable. Oriel had popped downstairs to gather in the smellies while Rose gave the inside of the windows a final once-over with the spray. At seven p.m., the sun was still bright though the shadows were lengthening and the creek was shady. The tide was low and she could see people crossing the narrow channel via the ford. There were already drinkers sitting at the pub tables of the Ferryman enjoying a pint in the evening sun.

  Two more nights and she’d actually be living here.

  ‘Here you go!’ Oriel arrived on a waft of perfume and placed a box on the little dining table. Rose stifled a sneeze but also felt a pull of gratitude. She had a home and a new friend in Falford and she’d been here less than a week. All in all, it was a good start.

  ‘Whoops!’

  Oriel knocked over Rose’s bag and a small plastic box fell out. Packets and bottles of pills and tablets spilled out of it.

  ‘Sorry! Wow, you’ve got more medication in here than our village pharmacy,’ Oriel commented, picking up the bottles.

  ‘I like to be prepared,’ Rose said, groaning inwardly as she picked up a bottle that had rolled to the window.

  ‘You can say that again,’ Oriel said, replacing the packets in the carton. Rose held her breath, wondering if her new landlady would dig any deeper about her array of meds. However, Oriel seemed more excited about the clean windows.

  ‘Blimey, you really can see through there now. Lynne got the window cleaner to do the outside while you were out at the dig, but you’ve done a great job on the inside. You can spy on the whole village from here. Look, there’s the yacht club, and further down the estuary, that’s Finn’s place, Curlew Studio – it’s the white triangle-shaped roof over the boathouse. Finn keeps his boat on the jetty outside.’

  Rose kept her reply casual. ‘Finn?’

  ‘Finn’s one of the Morvah sons who works at the boatshed.’

  ‘He must have a lovely view from his house.’

  ‘Well, it’s only a small place. Auntie Lynne calls it a pigeon loft.’ Oriel laughed. ‘I’ve been in once and it’s all right if you like living right on the water, I s’pose. It used to belong to the artist who owned the gallery but he passed away a few years ago.’ Oriel sighed. ‘Lovely man. He was only forty-four when he died. He had some rare type of cancer.’

  ‘That’s awful …’ said Rose, suppressing a shudder at how young the artist was and at being reminded of her own brush with death. ‘How sad …’ She knew that she would never shake off that fear, the kind that took hold of the pit of your stomach and induced a momentary panic. It would be with her for the rest of her life, but at least she did have a life, unlike the poor artist … and now her donor might be living in his studio.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Oriel asked. ‘You look a bit worried.’

  ‘Yes. I was just thinking of this artist. What a shame he died so young.’ She did think it was awful, but she was also intrigued about the artist. If Finn now lived in the guy’s studio, then it made it far more likely that he was her donor.

  ‘Was he anyone I might have heard of?’ Rose’s gaze drifted to the white gable end of the studio, with its small balcony, imagining Finn in there now, oblivious to what he’d done for her and her family.

  ‘I doubt it cos he wasn’t famous even though I thought he was brilliant. He was called Nash Santo,’ Oriel said. ‘His dad was Portuguese, but his mum was from St Austell.’

  ‘Oh. OK. I must look up his work,’ Rose said, feeling guilty that she already had a file on Nash on her laptop.

  ‘You won’t find much. Nash didn’t like the Internet. He wanted people to look at his paintings in the flesh.’ Oriel smirked. ‘Some of them were of flesh. Some really beautiful ones of nude men, if you’re into that sort of thing. They used to have some of his pictures in the gallery next door but the rest were given away when he died.’

  Rose smiled. Even Nash couldn’t hide away from Google. She decided she’d pop into the gallery just in case they had any more of his work, though male nudes didn’t really fit with the tranquil – and rather bland – waterside scene on her card.

  ‘Anyway, that’s the sailing trust centre, almost where the creek opens out into the main estuary,’ Oriel said pointing to a low-roofed hut on the opposite bank, largely obscured by masts. ‘Ah – that looks like Finn tying up there now.’

  Rose had no idea how Oriel could tell.

  ‘That’s Siren, his yacht … the Bermuda rigged sloop. He made it himself,’ Oriel said, sounding impressed. ‘He must be off to the sailing centre. He and his brother, Joey, teach kids and novices to sail there.’

  ‘Mm …’ Rose strained her eyes trying to make out the boat amid all the others around the sailing trust.

  ‘And that’s the north side of the Falford estuary in the distance,’ Oriel said indicating the line of greenery blending into a hazy sky.

  ‘It’s so beautiful …’ Rose said, still transfixed by the scene before her, particularly the activity at Morvah Marine and the sailing trust. ‘It’s hard to tear your eyes away, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, look, there’s Finn’s brother, Joey, with Sophie Crean,’ Oriel said with disgust. ‘He’s taking her out in his own boat. I thought it was all over between them.’

  They watched Joey take a picnic basket from a young woman before helping her climb aboard a yacht. She was the same woman Rose had seen arguing with Joey a few days previously.

  Oriel snorted. ‘I think we can guess they’re off for more than a pork pie.’

  Rose had to laugh. ‘Do you know Sophie well, then?’

  ‘Sophie’s Naomi’s cousin. Naomi’s my girlfriend.’ Oriel rolled her eyes. ‘You’d never know they shared any genes though. Naomi is lovely and would never say a bad word about anyone, but Sophie is toxic. She’s horrible to Naomi so we try to avoid each other. Have you got any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘No. Just me, though I suppose Maddie is like a sister.’ Rose smiled.

  ‘Close, are you?’

  ‘Yes, I guess we are. We met in our first week at uni. We have our moments, but she’s always been there for me when I need her,’ Rose said, thinking of her friend.

  ‘Best kind of mate. I hope Sophie’s boat capsizes, preferably with her in it,’ Oriel said then smirked. ‘Not really and anyway, I’m sure she’d love it just to be rescued by Joey.’

  Rose burst out laughing. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ she asked, impulsively. ‘I picked up a bottle from a vineyard on my back from the dig site.’

  ‘Thanks, but I should be getting home to Naomi. She’s made vegan pizza.’

  ‘Oh, OK.’ Rose tried to hide her disappointment. She rather fancied a good gossip and Oriel was fun company. However, she did obviously have a life of her own … and Rose was a newcomer.

  ‘Tell you what though, would you like to come to the yacht club party on Saturday night to celebrate you moving in? Naomi’s on the late shift so she won’t mind. She’s a paramedic,’ Oriel added, visibly puffing with pride.

  ‘Sounds great. I’d love to.’

  Oriel’s lips twitched with a sly smile. ‘I think you’ll enjoy it.’

  Rose was even more intrigued and the butterflies started up again. ‘Is it a private party?’

  ‘They like to call it a members’ social event, but anyone can join for a few quid. They need to get people in all year round spending money, so they do a locals’ social rate. You can be my guest.’

  ‘Will it be busy?’

  ‘Not this early in the season. The yachties tend to turn up in the school holidays. They have it in the downstairs room not the posh restaurant at the top so it’s more local from around the estuary and inland villages. They sometimes have a band and always a happy hour. The brewery sponsors it, so the drinks are cheap. It’ll be your chance to meet everyone.’

  ‘Everyone?’

  ‘Anyone worth meeting.’ Oriel screwed up her nose. ‘And a few who you’ll want to avoid.’

  ‘Anyone in particular?’ Rose asked lightly.

  Oriel pulled a face. ‘Sophie, I expect. I should let you make up your own mind but … her mum runs the village stores. Don’t tell her anything private.’

  Rose mimed zipping her lips.

  ‘Other than that, there’s a few sailing types from the village. A couple of guys from the paddleboard hire centre, Bo Grayson from the boatyard café – oh and the Morvahs of course.’

  Goose bumps popped on Rose’s arms. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Their mum can be a bit scary. She’s overprotective of the boys, according to Auntie Lynne, but I doubt very much she’ll turn up. Finn and Joey will probably go. They usually do.’ Oriel smirked again. ‘Joey is hard to miss.’

  ‘Really? In what way?’ Rose asked, trying to keep the rampant curiosity out of her voice.

  ‘Most of the straight women roundabouts think he’s hot … and I suppose he’s handsome, if you like that sort of thing.’ Oriel wrinkled her nose. ‘I doubt he’d be your type though and don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not his.’

  Rose’s interest was piqued even more. ‘Am I not?’

  ‘You’re too, I dunno, low-key, not really glamorous enough for him, and he likes women who are impressed by him. You wouldn’t fall for all that charm and the muscles.’

  Rose felt that she was being given a backhanded compliment. ‘I’m glad you think so,’ she said, catching sight of herself in the mirror over the hearth. Her hair was frizzy in the humid air, coming down from its bun, and her face was flushed and devoid of any make-up. She was wearing a pair of faded dungarees that Maddie said made her look like a children’s TV presenter from the 1970s.

  No, she was definitely not Joey Morvah’s type, which was probably a very good thing in the circumstances. The very last thing she needed was a crush on the man who might have saved her life. That would be the worst kind of cliché – rescuer syndrome – and sure to end in a broken heart.

  ‘Of course,’ Oriel said. ‘You might already have someone … only you haven’t mentioned anyone yet and you’ve come to live down here on your own …’ Oriel gave her a piercing look. ‘Or you’re gay?’

  Rose smiled. ‘No, I don’t have anyone and I’m not gay. I was too busy finishing my PhD and after that, settling into my job at the university. I was lucky to get it and I daren’t have any more distractions.’

  It was true she’d been too busy recovering and getting her career back on track since her transplant.

  She hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since the geologist. She’d thought she was in love with him, but he’d been unable to deal with her illness and Rose didn’t blame him, even though the split had felt like salt had been rubbed into the wound of her problems.

  ‘I’d have thought there were plenty of single men at a university,’ Oriel said.

  ‘Plenty of men, yes, but most of them are in relationships by now or more interested in old stones than women,’ Rose said. ‘They probably think I’m more interested in old stones than them and in most cases, it would be true.’

  She laughed and Oriel laughed too, but actually, Rose’s heart was heavy. Love was on her wish list, not top of it but an important part of the long life she hoped to live to the full.

  Oriel nodded. ‘Anyway, I don’t think you’ll like Joey. Since he split up with his girlfriend, Lauren, last year, he’s dated a string of women, but he never stays with any of them. I don’t know what went wrong there but he hasn’t been the same since.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘She went to London. Got a better job in a hospital. She was a doctor …’ Oriel said. ‘They sold their flat and Joey moved back into the boatyard annexe. He’s gone totally the opposite way. Naomi’s mum says Dorinda worries about him, bringing different women back every week.’

  ‘Every week?’

  ‘Well, every few months. Sometimes he has two on the go at once. One caused a scene at the boatyard a month back. Screaming in the yard and throwing things at Joey.’

  While Rose didn’t want to prejudge, she also didn’t think she’d like Joey much. He sounded thoughtless at best; a user of women at worst – could this be the man who’d been generous enough to save her life? Of course he could, she reminded herself. You didn’t have to be a saint yourself to do a good deed. Why had she even expected that? For all she knew, her donor might have been a really nasty piece of work in every other way. He might not have expected ever to be called on to donate, and done it most reluctantly and yet … the card hadn’t seemed to come from someone callous and unfeeling.