27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Arm in arm, Cillian and May wandered down the path to the beach below the Ship Inn. The earlier drizzle had cleared, and the evening sun was warm against their backs.
Cillian had managed to drive back from Tremear Manor without stalling the car once, which was good because he’d been able to join in with May’s atrocious singing.
He didn’t know what was going on between them, only that he’d had the best day he could remember in a long time.
So what if the fair hadn’t been much help when it came to planning the actual wedding.
The time there had helped May trust him, and that was a victory in itself.
‘Woohoohoo,’ sang May, breaking from Cillian’s arm to dance her way down the path.
‘You’re not a bad singer, you know,’ Cillian called.
May stopped, grinned. ‘Shut up,’ she said. ‘I’m terrible.’
‘OK, yeah, you’re right.’
‘You’re not supposed to agree with me.’ May jumped down from the path onto the beach.
She turned, laughing, holding out her hand to him.
He took it and jumped too, misjudging the distance and landing nose to nose with May.
He expected her to move back. Instead, she stared up at him and pulled off his wig. ‘That’s better.’
‘The beard might be trickier,’ he said, wincing as she eased it from his skin.
‘Does that hurt?’ she said sympathetically. ‘Your real beard might end up a bit patchy underneath. Whatever glue you used on this is brutal.’
‘It’s OK.’ He peeled back the beard from the opposite side. Their fingers met in the middle, and when the fake beard dropped onto the sand, Cillian intertwined his hand with May’s. ‘May …’
‘Cillian? Is that you?’
The voice was so familiar, yet so out of place in Saffron Bay. Cillian twisted around, an icy trickle of fear running down his spine.
‘Who are they?’ May pointed to the two figures approaching on the path.
‘My manager and my … my … friend.’ With everything that was happening, Cillian hadn’t given his “friend” a thought in days. He’d been like a little kid who covers their eyes with their hands and believes no one can see them.
‘Hmm.’ May’s voice had cooled. ‘Your friend, huh? Well, it’s not hard to guess which is which.’
Cillian supposed she was right. If you had to picture a cliché of a manager, Brian would probably be what you came up with.
Below average height, he tried to compensate with his Cuban heels.
He was unnaturally bronzed, dressed like a twenty-something geezer complete with a gold chain, and dyed his white hair black, painting in the bare patches of scalp to hide his thinning hairline.
He had a mobile phone clamped to one ear, and hanging from the fingers of his free hand was a half-smoked cigarette.
Beside him, Kia was a vision of tall, willowy, sun-kissed goldenness. With her wide-legged tailored white trousers and a matching white waistcoat, she could have just stepped off stage at Paris Fashion Week, which, in fairness to her, she probably had.
‘Darling,’ said Kia when she reached the beach. She leaned in and air-kissed Cillian on both cheeks before clasping his hand in hers and declaring, ‘God, I’ve missed you.’
‘Good to see you,’ said Cillian, trying to suppress the urge to run. ‘What are you two doing here?’
‘Looking for you, of course.’ Brian made no attempt to disguise his Essex accent, a habit under some circumstances. ‘You dropped off the face of the earth, and we tracked you down here in the back of beyond.’
Cillian steeled himself. ‘I needed time out, and I’m here to help with my sister’s wedding,’ he said. ‘As I explained.’
‘Time out?’ barked Brian. ‘You don’t get to have time out, son. Or at least only when I say you can. We need to bring the big reveal forward.’
A part of Cillian died inside. Even without looking at May, which he couldn’t bear to do, Cillian felt her eyes boring into him.
‘Big reveal?’ May chipped in.
Brian and Kia turned as if noticing May for the first time.
Kia made a show of appraising May with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of her plump lips. Cillian squirmed.
‘Who’s your friend, darling?’ she drawled.
‘May Tyler.’ May held out a hand that both Brian and Kia ignored. ‘I’m helping to plan the wedding as my sister is one of the brides.’
‘One of the brides?’ asked Kia, a perfect eyebrow raised on her smooth forehead.
‘It’s a double wedding,’ explained Cillian. ‘Alice, May’s sister, is one bride, and my sister is the other.’
‘How quaint,’ said Kia with an eye-roll.
‘How cheap, more like.’ Brian snorted. ‘Can’t people around here afford a wedding of their own? Some of these beachside properties must be worth a mint.’
‘It’s not about the money,’ muttered May.
‘Well, we shan’t be sharing our big day with anyone, shall we, darling?’ Kia leaned in and nibbled Cillian’s ear. He had a strong urge to bat her away, if he dared.
‘Your big day?’ May folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at Kia.
Cillian’s stomach churned.
‘The big reveal,’ said Brian slowly, as though speaking to a child. ‘These two are getting hitched. The papers are going to love it, not to mention the online gossip forums. You wait, this pair of lovebirds is going to break the internet.’
‘Right.’ May’s voice caught.
Cillian risked a glance at May. The colour had drained from her face. He willed her to look up and acknowledge his own discomfort. She kept her eyes to the ground, kicking up sand with the toe of her scruffy boot.
‘We need a plan of action,’ said Brian briskly. ‘I’ve booked a hotel in the next town so you can come and stay there with us, Cillian.’
‘No, I’m staying at my sister’s.’ This couldn’t be happening.
‘Fine.’ Brian waved away the minor inconvenience.
‘But you need to come with us now so we can have a council of war.’ He grunted.
‘Some busybody took compromising photos of Kia while she was in Paris. We need to get ahead of the game to make your announcement before the other story breaks. Damage control at its finest.’
‘Compromising photos?’ A tiny ray of hope cast its light on Cillian’s dark mood.
‘Oh, the usual,’ said Brian. He gave a dramatic sniff and made a show of wiping his nose.
‘Right,’ said Cillian. Not the other kind of compromising then. He turned to May. ‘I’d better go, sorry. Let’s catch up soon to talk about what we found out today, yeah?’
‘Whatever.’ May barely glanced at him. ‘See you around.’
When she walked away, Cillian was desperate to run after her. At his feet lay his earlier disguise, and as he bent to pick it up from the sand, he wished he could go back in time to when he was holding May in his arms, dancing and laughing.
Who was he kidding? Reality had come to the beach and shown him with brutal clarity that wasn’t his life.
This was. Kia gripped his hand, her long nails digging into his skin, and Cillian followed Brian meekly as he’d done so often the past few years.
Perhaps one day he’d grow himself a backbone. Not today.