The Cornish Beach Hut Café

Chapter 45

45

The Hideaway

Clapperboards and double takes

Friday

‘Y ou’re still dressed as me!’

As I watch Sophie climbing the stairs onto the deck she’s looking so comfy in my favourite navy and white daisy print playsuit I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever get it back.

She flicks back her brown hair and grins at me. ‘I thought I’d give it another week. Or if you can spare your clothes, I may even carry on until the Barbie bash.’

When I arranged this meeting with Mum ten days ago, I was happy to have a date in the near distance to work towards because it felt good to have a dot on the infinity of the future stretching out in front of me. And the Barbie day is the same. That’s the weekend after this, and is my next way-marker in the wilderness of the rest of time.

It’s not as if I’m going anywhere much other than to work or to walk on the beach or to make deliveries at the hotel. And yes, I’m disgusted with myself for letting a guy mess up my perceptions like this, but as it’s never happened to me before I’m not sure how to tackle it. When Dillon and I separated that was awful in itself, but that was more of a shock that the comfortable couple structure we’d inhabited for so long was suddenly not there. This is more like being lost in a sandstorm of emotions I don’t understand. Some days I feel like I need Milla to come round and tell me very firmly to woman-the-eff-up.

I feel awful and responsible for causing Kit so much heartache. The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt him. If only he knew that all of the boundaries and limits I’d put in place for myself were there so I’d save him from even worse heartache in the long run. I’d like to explain, but I’m not sure I’d be strong enough.

As Sophie tickles Shadow’s ear and pulls out a chair, I nod towards a tall jug. ‘Help yourself to iced lemonade, it’s homemade.’

She grins at me. ‘It’s extraordinary. When you got here we all assumed you’d be changing The Hideaway, but it’s as if The Hideaway has changed you to be exactly the owner it wanted.’ She laughs. ‘Don’t tell me, any second, you’re going to bring out cupcakes?’

I’m not sure how I feel about her reading me so well. ‘As it happens, I am, but that’s because buttercream melting on my tongue is my new addiction. What’s in your envelope?’

Sophie taps the thick packet she’s put down on the table. ‘I’ve had ten days to prep for this meeting. My document runs to twenty pages plus supporting material, with copies for each of us. How about you?’

‘My questions are all in my head.’ Every time I got out my notebook I wimped out. ‘If we want to get the best from Mum you might want to lose the wig?’

‘Shucks, I almost forgot.’ Sophie’s own hair is less bright than I remember as she shakes it free, but she’s definitely more herself now. She whispers under her breath, ‘And here we go!’

Mum comes across the veranda and dips to kiss each of us, then holds out a bunch of cornflowers, sweet rocket and perennial geraniums bound with a raffia bow. ‘I brought you a posy from the garden.’

‘Thanks, they’re lovely. Even Milla’s given up on the flower growing here.’ As I pour out a glass of water and put the flowers in, I see Mum tug at her belt. ‘Your second-best painting boiler suit today.’

Sophie pours a glass of lemonade and pushes it towards her. ‘I hope you’re not rushing off?’

Mum clears her throat. ‘No, there are things in life you hope you’ll never have to talk about, but it’s important that I say them now.’

I can see Sophie’s fingers twitching on her papers. ‘If an agenda would help, I have one ready?’

Mum reaches across and pats her hand. ‘You need to do a bit of listening first, Soph, we’ll deal with the rest after that.’ She pauses and looks out at the horizon. ‘When you were little, before Flossie was even thought about, do you remember where we lived?’

Sophie nods. ‘In the row of fishermen’s cottages out on the Rose Hill Road. You were still there when Milla was born.’

I wrap my arms around me. ‘Clemmie lived in the same row.’

Mum smiles. ‘The kitchen had quarry tiles on the floor.’ She nudges Sophie. ‘You had your first pair of tap shoes when you were three, and you didn’t stop tapping until you became a goth.’ She shakes her head. ‘You had blonde curls just like your dad. He always hoped you’d be a dancer on a cruise ship.’

Sophie looks appalled. ‘But I hate boats.’

‘I know. It’s ironic, isn’t it? What I need to tell you both is about what happened then.’ Mum watches the waves rolling up the beach, then she looks back at us. ‘The thing is, your dad didn’t leave voluntarily – I told him he had to go.’

The skin on my arms pebbles with goosebumps.

Mum purses her lips. ‘All these years I let people believe what they assumed – that he’d walked out on us. I always meant to tell the truth, but it’s always been easier to put it off.’

I take a deep breath. ‘Until now.’

Sophie’s opening and closing her mouth. ‘B-b-but…’

‘All I can do now is to tell you how it happened and hope you might understand.’ Mum’s clutching her collar. ‘Your dad drove for a long-distance coach firm, so he was often away. There were a few cottages in our row, and at one stage a man took the end one on a short lease. He looked shocking when he arrived; he’d been ill with leukaemia, his marriage had broken down, and the women along the row rushed to look after him, taking him baking and popping in with meals.’

She pauses to look at the sky. ‘He was very different from anyone I’d ever met before. He’d read a lot, he was interesting. Most of all, he was kind.’ Her voice is distant and wistful. ‘You don’t plan for these things to happen, but with your dad away we became closer than we should have done. We barely acknowledged it to ourselves, but somehow your dad knew.’

She stops for a few moments, and when she starts again her voice has changed. ‘And then Flossie came along, and it didn’t feel right to go on as we were when I was pregnant, so I made a choice. I stayed with your dad, and the other man moved away.’

My heart is going out to her. ‘That must have been hard.’

She nods. ‘Looking back it was the only time in my life when I was properly in love. But it wasn’t to be. His future was uncertain and I had two children to consider. It helped to know I was doing the best for all of us by keeping the family together. Then you were born, Floss, and you made everything worthwhile again.’

Sophie reaches across and squeezes my hand, and I hang on to her fingers.

Mum smiles. ‘You were blonde as a baby, Sophie, and your dad idolised you, but Flossie took after my father. The morning you were born, Floss, your dad took one look at the dark hair and long legs that were nothing like his, and he barely looked at you ever again.’

Sophie’s grip on my fingers tightens, and Mum goes on.

‘I hoped that we could put things behind us, but he never shook off the jealousy. I could have coped with indifference, and I protected you as much as I could, Floss, but as you grew his animosity towards you became worse. Negativity like that is very destructive. It was no way for any of us to live.

‘It was the hardest decision of my life, especially for how it would impact you, Sophie. But one day after he’d been especially mean, I told him he had to go, and not come back. He did what I asked, and that was that.’

Sophie’s shaking her head. ‘It sounds awful.’

Mum stares at her. ‘It wasn’t a good time, but it was a lot easier once I’d been brave enough to make the break.’

I may as well say it. ‘That’s probably why you treated us so differently.’

Mum nods. ‘You were always bursting with confidence, Sophie, always certain you were right, whereas Floss needed much more reassurance. I meant you to be equal, but it doesn’t always work out that way.’

Sophie wrinkles her nose. ‘I’ve always felt indestructible on the outside, but since Milla’s been challenging me, I’m a lot less sure of myself.’

Mum smiles at her. ‘You’ve always been such a force. It’s easier for other people when they see your vulnerable side.’

I’m hanging on every word. ‘What happened to the other guy?’

Mum pulls a face. ‘Treatments weren’t what they are now, and his outlook wasn’t good. To give our family the best chance we agreed to cut contact. He promised he’d write in his will that I was to be told if he died, but I never heard any more. And since then it has always just been the three of us.’

Sophie comes straight out without flinching. ‘So whose child is Floss?’

Mum fiddles with her fingers. ‘I’ve never been entirely certain, but it’s unlikely a cancer patient would have been able to father a baby.’

They’re talking about it like I’m not here. ‘I’ve gone thirty-odd years without knowing either of them, so it’s hardly relevant now.’

Mum’s biting her thumbnail. ‘My decision hit you the hardest, Sophie. I hate that I deprived you of the dad who loved you, but at the time it felt like the only way.’

Sophie scrapes away a tear. ‘It helps to know it wasn’t his idea to go.’

I put my arms around her and pull her into a hug. ‘He didn’t leave because of anything you’d done. I’m sorry it was me who caused it.’

Sophie sniffs. ‘Don’t ever think that, Floss. Even though you were on your own, Mum, you did a damn good job. We were happy. And thank you for telling us. It makes a big difference that I know.’

I’m surprised yet validated at the same time. ‘I’m so proud of you for telling us, Mum. Those few sentences have completely reframed our childhood. Everything Sophie and I have been questioning lately has been explained.’ I smile at her. ‘If that’s all, I’ll get the cakes.’

Mum hesitates as I get up. ‘It isn’t everything. Not quite.’

Sophie’s eyes are wide. ‘If there’s more than this, I need an icing hit.’

I slide the plate onto the table and slip back into my seat, and Mum gives a little cough.

‘It’s not the complete end of the story. For me love has always been about snatches of happiness, lucky coincidences of time and place. In my experience the secret to everlasting love is to let go and move on.’

Sophie takes a large bite of cake and smiles. ‘That sounds like you, Mum.’

Mum sighs. ‘If the man from the end cottage had come back after a few years, we might have made a go of it. When he turned up in St Aidan thirty-odd years later, my first instinct was to hide. And that’s what I did for more than a year.’

I’m stunned. ‘ So he wasn’t dead? ’

Mum shakes her head. ‘He’d caught the wave of medical science, and gone on to live life to the full, as we’d agreed he should if he was lucky enough for that to happen. I’m not sure he was particularly looking for me when he came back, but St Aidan’s pull is a bit like gravity – at times we’ve all ended up here without really meaning to.’

I’m nodding. ‘That’s true for all three of us.’

Sophie’s pushing crumbs into her mouth and sounding typically impatient. ‘But what happened next? Where is he now?’

Mum looks calmer. ‘He saw a suitable property, bought it – and built the High Tides Hotel.’

Sophie chokes. ‘What the actual eff, Mother! David Byron is your long-lost love? ’

Mum gives an exasperated sigh. ‘It would have been much more straightforward to get to know him without the history. But then I wouldn’t have gone on a date with him in the first place, so maybe it was better we’d met before.’

I’m relieved and appalled in equal parts. ‘So this is why you’ve been so cagey?’

She looks up at the beamed roof. ‘You can’t rush these things. I hadn’t ever meant to come near the hotel at all, but you needed me for your ice-cream van evening, and when I saw David had spotted me, I had to do a runner. Then, on the spa night, I changed my tactics because I thought it would be useful for you, and we found there was a lot to talk about after all.’ She gives a shrug. ‘All this time later, we still haven’t run out of things to say.’

I laugh. ‘If you like each other enough to go skinny-dipping, in St Aidan’s eyes you’re together.’

‘The swimming was only a bit of fun.’ She pulls at the folds of her boiler suit. ‘When I’ve had the luxury of pleasing myself as long as I have, giving up my independence will take a lot of consideration.’

I have tears streaming down my cheeks as I look at my lovely mum, who’s done so well by us all our lives and always put herself last. ‘Fun, happiness, love – it’s your time to have them all. Whatever I’ve thought of David Byron in the past, I couldn’t be more delighted for you.’

Mum gives a cough. ‘There are a few drawbacks. He does have a tendency to want to pay for everything, but it’s only because he’s kind, and we’re working on that. And his musical tastes are terrible. It’s going to take a fair few St Aidan discos before he’ll be dancing to the Arctic Monkeys.’

Sophie pushes the plate across the table. ‘Cupcake, Mum?’

She hesitates. And then she takes one. ‘The rules of a lifetime have gone out of the window lately, so why not?’

It’s obvious Sophie’s mind is moving at a hundred miles an hour. ‘Are you and David going to get married?’

I let out a cry. ‘Sophie, that’s the kind of question Milla would ask!’

Mum’s face breaks into a smile. ‘I was wondering the same thing myself – I’m not sure I ever got the whole way with divorcing your dad!’

This is what I love about St Aidan and my family. Just when you think there are no more surprises, they bring out another one.