Chapter Eight
Matt made his way down the slipway and on to the rocks towards one of his favourite tidal pools. It was the Thursday evening after the Surf Club barbecue and he was hot and tired and finally able to dwell on things he’d rather not.
There was only one way to sort that out and it didn’t involve a shower.
Since early Monday morning, he’d been back and forth helping the contractors strip out the Surf Club’s changing rooms. The sooner they were finished, the sooner everyone could start using them. At the moment, people were relying on the beach public toilets and changing in their cars.
His focus on the club had meant he hadn’t had a chance to visit Kernow Entz yet, which was probably a relief to Zennor.
Before he’d moved away from St Ives, the tidal pool in the little fishing cove had always been a favourite spot to swim away his troubles. It was popular with a lot of the locals, so he was pleasantly surprised to find it empty on this fine summer evening.
He slipped into the water, trying to relax and savour the chill before swimming lengths until he was warm enough to scull on his back, gazing up at the clouds scudding across the sky. Below him, the fronds of weeds rippled like mermaids’ hair and the anemones glistened like tiny ruby jellies.
He swam up and down to warm up again, occasionally resting on the edge of the pool and watching the sun slip lower over the Atlantic, with the waves crashing over the Brisons, twin islets a mile offshore.
Matt had taken part in the Brisons’ famous swimming race a few times, and once Zennor had joined him, running him very close.
Why had she come into his mind again?
How could she not, now he was back in her life, in her business, at the club – but not her heart. No, he would never be allowed near it ever again.
Even if she’d forgiven him for his performance at the wedding, she wouldn’t have forgiven him for what he’d said in that letter. He could still remember it virtually word for word.
Zennor, I know you won’t want to read this and maybe you never will. Maybe you won’t even open it. I wouldn’t blame you if you throw it straight in the bin or burn it. If you show it to Trev, there’s nothing I can do about that.
I’ve agonised over whether to even send this, but I can’t leave things the way they were.
Not when we were friends once. More than friends.
I want you to know that whatever I did at the wedding, however shitty the timing, however misguided my intentions, at the time I genuinely felt I was doing the right thing.
You won’t want to hear this, but I do care about you. More than care – I could say exactly how I feel and always have but it wouldn’t be fair now because it’s too late. I’m leaving Cornwall again and I don’t know when – or if – I’ll be back. I think that’s the best thing for all of us.
I truly wish you well and, despite what I said about him, and still think, I truly hope that he makes you happy.
Matt
He ducked under the water and opened his eyes on to a strange and shifting world beneath his feet.
He surfaced with stinging eyes and saw a woman in a white dress on the edge of the clifftop car park, long hair blowing in the breeze, staring down at him. It was Zennor, he was certain.
Matt hauled himself out on to the pool edge; his vision was still blurry from the saltwater. She was still up on the cliff, holding her hair out of her eyes, the way she often did. Had she come to find him? Matt had no idea why she would but if so, he had to speak with her.
He jogged around the concrete rim of the pool to get a better look but in the time he’d taken to climb out and reach the far end, the woman had vanished. His heart sank and he also found the way blocked by a family with kids in wetsuits making their way over the rocks towards him.
Matt rubbed a hand over his forehead and scanned the clifftop again, willing Zennor to reappear, wondering if it really had been her.
Squeals of excitement assailed him as the parents issued warnings to their three children.
‘Oh, sorry, have we disturbed you?’ the woman asked as the kids dumped their stuff on the rocks.
‘Don’t jump in!’ she warned and a man, who Matt assumed was the father, grabbed the arm of the older boy who was about to leap into the pool.
‘What have I said about checking the depth and not diving into the water until you’re absolutely sure it’s safe?’ he said.
‘Very wise …’ Matt murmured, glancing beyond the family in the faint hope of seeing Zennor – or her doppelg?nger.
‘This pool isn’t deep enough for diving into.
You need to sit down and enter the water from the rocks.
And your dad’s spot on: you should always think about the consequences before you go leaping in. ’
‘The man is right,’ the father said with a nod of gratitude to Matt.
The boy stared at Matt, a slight smirk of pity on his face. Matt was aware he’d sounded like a fussy parent himself, yet it was impossible to suppress his lifeguard training.
The boy turned an innocent expression on his father. ‘I’ll be careful, Dad.’
Knowing the lad would probably leap in the moment his parents’ backs were turned, Matt forced a smile. He was desperate to find his clothes and rush up to the clifftop to see if Zennor was there. ‘I’m getting out anyway. I’ve finished my swim.’
‘Oh, don’t let us drive you away,’ the mother said.
‘You haven’t, I promise. I’ve had the place to myself for twenty minutes, which is a miracle, and I was about to leave anyway. You enjoy it.’
He didn’t bother to dress but simply grabbed his dry bag of clothes and scurried over the rocks barefoot. Never, not even as a teenager, had he climbed the steep slipway and steps so fast. By the time he reached the car park, his lungs were burning but there was no sign of Zennor or her car.
If it had been her watching him – and he was sure it was – she’d slipped through his fingers, just as she always had.