Chapter Twenty-One
‘Have you heard about this fundraiser at Trev’s new place?’ Roo asked when they were back in the office a couple of days later. She had a gleam of excitement in her eye and apparently couldn’t even wait to put the coffees down on the desk.
‘What fundraiser?’ Zennor asked.
‘I was scrolling my feed while I queued for the drinks and it came up because I follow the St Piran’s website.
He’s advertising a couple of the bands you signed up recently, so I assumed you knew about it.
’ She handed the cup to Zennor. ‘Sorry, they had no skinny milk so it’s semi.
And they accidentally made me a full-caff one so there’s spare. I dunno what to do with it.’
‘Thanks,’ Zennor said. The milk situation was the least of her worries. ‘I knew the hotel had booked the bands but I assumed they’d booked both for a trial music night in the Piano Bar.’
‘I’ll send you a link,’ Roo said.
A moment later, Zennor’s phone pinged. The event was prominently advertised on the hotel’s page.
ST PIRAN’S SPA HOTEL
MUSIC NIGHT
Join us for a fantastic evening of great music, delicious tapas and cocktails
Special auction in aid of the St Eia Surf Lifesaving Club
Tickets ￡50 per person
Includes cocktails and tapas
Book online HERE
Roo sat back in her chair. ‘I wonder if Dawn knows about this?’
‘She’d have to have been consulted.’
‘On the other hand, I guess Trev doesn’t have to ask permission to do some fundraising.’
‘No …’ At one time, Trev would not have dreamed of asking. His mantra was ‘ask for forgiveness, not permission’. However, the new Trev did seem different. He would probably have consulted Dawn. ‘I’m sure the club committee know all about it.’
Roo tapped her pen on the desk. ‘Mmm. He’s certainly getting involved in the community.’
‘Yeah …’ They both looked up because someone was humming from outside the back door. The humming turned into a voice singing softly. The words were almost inaudible but the tune was ‘Lamorna’, a traditional folk song.
‘Is that—’ Roo mouthed the word: ‘Matt?’
‘I think so …’
With the spare coffee in hand, she stole into the kitchenette and listened through the back door, which was propped open to let in the fresh air.
Zennor broke out in goosebumps. Although you could hardly call his combo of humming and faint snatches actual singing, the soulful, lilting tone was still unmistakeably his.
It brought memories, bitter and sweet, flooding back to her.
Still oblivious to her presence, Matt switched to a contemporary tune, singing louder because he thought no one was listening.
She put the coffee on the kitchen worktop, closed her eyes, and she was back in the past. She was in her teens, singing alongside him, not worrying about anything but the next wave, the next beer, the next kiss …
‘Zen?’ Seconds after the song had ended, Matt loomed on the back step, clutching a tool bag. ‘Did you want me?’ he said, unable to look her in the eye. ‘I thought I heard you calling.’
She snatched up the takeaway cup. ‘I, um, came to offer you a cappuccino. We got a free one from the bakery so it’s going spare.’
‘Why, thank you for your generous offer, but I already had a coffee on the way here.’
‘Oh. I – Well, you would be very welcome to it,’ Zennor said, realising how grudging her offer had sounded.
‘Thanks. Appreciate it. I came to tighten up that tap. Roo mentioned it was leaking.’
Zennor glanced at the tap, which was completely free of drips.
‘Did she? I hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but if Roo said so …’ She frowned. ‘I’d have thought the plumber could take care of a trivial job like that with you being so busy.’
‘You know I like to help out. It gets the job done quicker and Dani is on an urgent repair job at the nursing home.’
‘Of course she is.’ She hid a smile.
‘Can I come in?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Zennor moved back from the step but suddenly stopped. ‘Matt, before you come in, I need to talk to you about something.’
‘Oh?’ His eyes glittered with interest.
‘Have you heard about Trev’s music night for the Surf Club? I didn’t know anything about it until Roo showed me five minutes ago.’
His brow furrowed. ‘Trev’s involved with the fundraising?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say involved. In fact, I have no idea how it came about. I’ve only just seen the ad on the hotel page. It’s extremely short notice – next Saturday.’
Matt’s eyes flashed with – something – but then he shrugged. ‘Nope. No idea about it. Nothing to do with me, anyway.’ He pointed to the takeaway cup. ‘You know, I’m in need of extra caffeine this morning. I think I will have that coffee after all.’
Zennor exchanged her trainers for strappy sandals in the St Piran’s Spa Hotel car park and took a few calming moments. Judging by the ticket price, Zennor had assumed it would be a swanky affair. She had opted for a sparkly blue midi dress and put her hair up, hoping she wouldn’t be overdressed.
There was a new sign by the reception advertising wedding packages, which was nothing unexpected; Trev had to make his new investment pay.
However, the sight of people dressed in their finest heading into the hotel inevitably reminded her of their wedding night.
It had hardly been the romantic affair she’d envisaged.
They were both so angry and upset and Trev had railed for months about Matt ruining their honeymoon as well as the reception.
Zennor stiffened her spine and walked into reception, expecting to see Trev at any moment.
To give him credit, he had messaged her barely half an hour after she’d found out about the music night and apologised that his team had added it to social media before he could warn her.
Zennor had replied, as politely as she could, that it was nice for him to let her know but he didn’t need to.
She hadn’t mentioned Trev’s message to Matt, deciding to act as low key as possible about the whole event. He hadn’t alluded to it again and had got on with the tap repair and fixing a loo-roll holder in the toilet.
Although he’d claimed he didn’t care, Zennor was far from convinced, but if studied indifference was the way Matt wanted to play things, she’d accept that. Perhaps he really had chilled with the whole Trev situation. Then again, perhaps pigs might fly over the office and land on Godrevy Lighthouse.
Nodding and saying hello to familiar faces from the Surf Club, Zennor made her way to the bar where the pianist Trev had booked through Kernow Entz was coaxing silky melodies from the baby grand.
The Driftstones drum kit, guitar stands, sax and mics were already set up on a small stage area next to the piano, but there was no sign of them.
People were standing at the bar chatting while others spilled out on to the terrace as the sun gradually sank to the horizon.
Waiting staff glided around with platters of tapas and trays of cocktails.
Zennor swiped a virgin mojito and was on her way to the terrace to chat to Vince, the head of youth training for the Surf Club, when Trev intercepted her.
‘Hello! You made it. Brilliant.’ Leaning in, he briefly brushed her cheek with his lips.
‘Of course I did. I wouldn’t have missed a fundraiser for the club, especially with my clients involved.’
‘Of course.’ In stone chinos and a crisp white shirt, and with a designer watch on his wrist, he looked every inch the successful hotelier with confidence radiating from every pore. He smiled urbanely. ‘It’s a sell-out, thanks to guests, locals and club members. I could have sold it twice over.’
‘That’s fantastic.’ She smiled. ‘Thanks for inviting me. You have to let me pay for a ticket though.’
‘You’re joking! You actually gave me the idea with your Gin and Jazz suggestion and what better way to launch the music evenings than with a charity spectacular?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘And there was I thinking this was all out of the goodness of your heart.’
‘It is. You know it is. I’m only joking.’ He smirked. ‘Partly.’
‘It’s certainly captured the local media’s attention.
’ Zennor recognised the editor of a regional lifestyle magazine and a couple of people from online lifestyle and events sites.
She had a strange feeling of being outside herself this evening, as if she were playing a part: the ex-wife who needs to show the world how she’s moved on.
She was exactly that, though, so why did she feel she had to put on a performance?
‘I figured that all publicity is good publicity when it comes to the club,’ Trev said.
‘I totally agree.’ Zennor wondered if Matt would say the same.
‘Good, because I want you to approve.’
‘You don’t need me to approve anything you do.’
‘I’d still like you to be onside. I trust your judgement.’ His gaze lingered on her. ‘You look gorgeous, by the way. Blue suits you. It always did.’
Zennor laughed uneasily, feeling the flattery had gone on too long for comfort. ‘We mustn’t monopolise each other. You have guests.’
‘You’re right – unfortunately.’ He sighed. ‘I should mingle and talk to Dawn. Have a good evening. Enjoy the music. You know how good it’s going to be.’
He moved away, then greeted Dawn with a hug.
Soon Zennor was chattering away to Vince and other members of the club, all of whom were singing the praises of the hotel and Trev for hosting the evening.
Just as she was wondering how Matt would have coped with hearing all the adulation of Trev, the man himself walked in with Tyler and his partner.
They were greeted by the restaurant manager and shown to a reserved table.
She had to centre herself. Matt was the last person she’d expected to turn up.
Almost immediately, he caught Zennor’s eye and beckoned her over. He was about as dressed up as she’d ever seen him in dark jeans, smart shoes and a white shirt. His hair was neatly brushed off his face and curling into his collar.
She shivered despite the warmth of the room and the summer evening.
Despite working so hard to escape the maelstrom of her marriage and divorce, it seemed she’d been swimming against a current that had kept her in its grip, taken her on a long journey, and returned her back to where she’d started.
‘Hello. I knew you’d be here,’ he said.
‘Trev asked me. We – the agency – represent the pianist and the band that’ll come out later. I didn’t expect to see you,’ she said, trying not to sigh at the subtle hint of a citrussy aftershave.
‘Why not? It’s to raise money for the Surf Club. Great dress. You look amazing,’ he added, his gaze raking over her and leaving a trail of fire where it landed.
Zennor mumbled, feeling the heat rush to her cleavage and cheeks. Matt must surely see the effect he was having on her. She wouldn’t be surprised if he could actually feel the heat radiating from her exposed skin. ‘Thanks. You scrub up nicely yourself.’
He smiled. ‘Well, it’s better than sweaty paint-spattered work gear, I guess.’
Zennor managed a weak smile, because she’d found scruffy work gear unbearably sexy over the past weeks. Since when did the smell of turps turn her on?
‘There’s plenty of room on our table, so why don’t you join us? Unless you already have a seat?’
‘Erm. I – I …’ She couldn’t think of a single reason to refuse.
With Tyler and his partner, Yolande, there, there shouldn’t be anything to fear.
‘I don’t know where I’m supposed to be sitting, to be honest. Trev just told me to turn up and I assumed I’d be – anywhere there was a spare seat, so thanks. ’
‘Great. We’re over here by the terrace windows so it’s nice and cool.’
On the way to the table, Matt remarked, ‘Nice place. Nice job.’
‘It had been done up before Trev bought it, though you probably knew that.’
‘I heard but that was while I was living up country. The vibe is good … it looks different.’
‘For the better. If I’m honest, I thought it was a bit too big for its boots before. Stuffy with all those velvet couches and gold chairs in the function room.’ Wincing inwardly, she moved on rapidly. ‘It looks better with a coastal spa vibe.’
‘Yeah, I can see why he wanted to buy it,’ Matt said. She half expected a comment about Trev acquiring possessions but they’d reached the table and he said, ‘Here we are. Guys, I persuaded Zennor to join us.’
‘Hi there!’
Tyler and Yolande were snuggled up in the booth while Zennor took one of the swivel chairs next to Matt. She knew Yolande slightly and liked her. Tyler had been through a lot with the worries over his father, but tonight everyone was steering clear of anything stressful – for now, anyway.
While they talked, she caught Trev glancing over from the bar from time to time where he was chatting to the lead singer of the band.
He managed a nod and smile but Zennor was sure it was for show.
There was an undercurrent of tension that made her jittery – or was it her imagining something was about to kick off?
Yolande was tapping her fingers on the table as the pianist played the Nina Simone classic ‘My Baby Just Cares For Me’. There was an enthusiastic round of applause before the piano was wheeled back and the band began to set up their mics.
Matt and Tyler went to the bar while Yolande was deep in conversation with a friend. Zennor took her chance to congratulate the pianist and also wish the Driftstones luck.
‘Thanks,’ said Marielle, the vocalist. ‘Feeling a bit nervous if I’m honest.’ She did look twitchy, wringing her hands.
‘You’ll be fine. This crowd is on your side. They’re predisposed to love everything, especially since it’s for a good cause.’
Marielle chewed her lip. ‘They have paid a lot of money though.’
‘Honestly, I know what it’s like to get nervous but you’ll blow them away. Promise.’
‘Thanks,’ Marielle replied. ‘Zennor …’ She twisted the mic cable with her fingers. She was more nervous than Zennor had realised.
‘If you need a moment, it’s fine. We all get first-night nerves.’
‘This is big for me – for the band – and I, um, just wanted to say thanks for the opportunity. Again.’
‘Any time and don’t worry.’ Zennor patted her arm. ‘You’ll slay it.’