Chapter Five
Brightly Shone the Moon that Night
Though the Food Was Gruel
The next day passed in a whirl, leaving Gemma little time to think about the practicalities of living on an isolated creek with an almost stranger whom she wasn’t entirely sure about. Thankfully, her leg was improving, but, as she didn’t fancy walking to Rivermills House several times, ferrying luggage and food, she sought out Tommy the Boat, a retired fisherman who had been running the half-hour trips round the bay ever since she could remember.
Gemma had soon agreed the lease of a small motorboat from a contact of Tommy’s – nothing larger would pass through the grassy banks either side of the gap from the river or cope with the creek’s tidal nature. Soon, she had the boat – sporting the unsettling name of Last Chance on its stern – moored at one of the jetties near the harbour.
Being on the water was one of Gemma’s favourite things from her many stays in Polkerran Point, and she looked forward to cruising up the river with her bags later, hoping not to bump into Matt in the process.
‘There you are!’
Anna’s smile was welcoming as Gemma entered the kitchen at Westerleigh Cottage, and she kicked off her boots and joined her by the island.
‘I’ve prepared a few basics for you to try out, but I’m also making a meal for you to collect tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about the first evening. I’ve made up several portions of various dishes for the freezer too and written out instructions.’
‘Your brother is going to be lulled into a false sense of security.’
Anna pulled a sheet of paper towards them, and Gemma was sure she heard a muttered ‘will do him good’.
‘Now, let’s start with breakfast. Do you know how to scramble eggs?’
‘Shake them in the shell?’ Gemma smirked at Anna’s blank expression, then assumed an interested look as her new teacher set to with precise step-by-step instructions.
An hour later, and Gemma was relieved when the boot room door opened and her aunts strolled in, followed by Nicki from next door.
‘Morning, my lovelies,’ Great-Aunt Dee greeted them. Then her nose wrinkled. ‘Not burning something, are we?’
Anna scraped a pan of something decidedly brown into the food waste. ‘You really don’t want to know.’
There was a general commotion as Gemma, under Anna’s instruction, helped take plates of cakes over to the table under the window.
‘So, what’s it like out at the old mill?’ Nicki stirred milk into her coffee. ‘I’ve walked past with my boys, but never seen inside.’
‘It’s great. Whoever renovated it did an amazing job.’ Gemma tried not to think about the state of the place the other day, with dirty plates and glasses strewn across the vast countertop that ran the length of the kitchen. Anyone would think Matt had thrown a party, but if he had it had only been for one lonely man.
‘How be y’on cottage?’ Great-Aunt Dee eagerly selected a biscuit. ‘Not sure I’d be sleeping too well, in they woods there, all alone.’
Anna laughed. ‘Please don’t put your niece off now.’
Gemma picked up a slice of cake. ‘I don’t scare easily, Auntie Dee; besides, I’m looking forward to some quiet time.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Jean rolled her eyes. ‘Because living with me is a riot.’
Nicki laughed. ‘There’ll be plenty going on soon, with the lights and the fayre and all the emmets. The shops will be full of Christmas stock, too.’
Savouring the cake’s creamy filling, Gemma was conscious of a thrill of anticipation – not for her new job, but for her favourite season to start.
Gemma’s last day in Polkerran dawned and she packed the remaining few things into a small holdall, gave the tiny bedroom a fond look, but shut the door on it with few regrets. It had been a lovely haven as a child, but as an adult it was too cramped.
Jean had gone to meet a friend to walk some of the coast path and have a pub lunch, although she’d promised to be back later to help her niece load up the boat, and Gemma called on her great-aunt for a cup of tea, where she met her friend, Cleggie. Mrs Clegg used to housekeep for Oliver, and Gemma passed a rewarding hour hearing all about the duties she used to carry out for the man she reverently referred to as ‘Master Oliver’.
Gemma had met Oliver Seymour the previous day, up at Westerleigh. He was a little intimidating, not least because he was so tall and large of frame. He was a man of few words, but when he smiled it was like the sun had come out, warming you from head to toe in an instant.
Saying farewell to her great-aunt, and promising to call each week on her day off, Gemma reflected on Matt. He might well need waiting on, but she couldn’t ever imagine referring to him as Master Matty in a deferential tone.
She pulled her hat more firmly over her ears and turned her steps towards Anna’s, where she was due some last-minute instruction.
It was a sunny day but there was a distinct nip in the air. Smoke curled up from several chimneys as she crossed the bridge and passed the Lugger, from where the aroma of garlic assailed Gemma’s nostrils. Crows cawed loudly from the tops of the trees huddled on the steep slopes, and there was a small boat containing two people in hi-vis vests doing winter checks of the moorings and buoys.
‘Morning!’ She breezed into the kitchen, determined to embrace her temporary new life.
Anna, however, wasn’t in the kitchen. Oliver was, and he looked up from a sheaf of papers, his glasses perched on the end of his nose, an irritated expression on his face.
‘Sorry!’ Feeling awkward, Gemma rocked from foot to foot, unsure what to do, but then Oliver’s expression cleared.
‘Anna’s upstairs. Guest rooms.’ He expanded. ‘Sit down, she’ll be here soon.’
‘Dreckly, you mean?’
The edges of Oliver’s mouth twitched. ‘I have vowed never to use the word.’
‘Please carry on. Pretend I’m not here.’ Gemma indicated the papers, which Oliver still held, but he lowered them and removed his glasses.
He was a handsome man, mid-forties at a guess, with short-cropped dark hair, greying at the temples, and piercing blue eyes. Eyes that, at the moment, were studying Gemma with unexpected interest.
‘You’re a brave woman.’
Gemma blinked. ‘I am?’
Oliver leaned back in his seat. ‘You’re taking on quite the task.’
‘Anna’s been talking about my culinary skills – or lack thereof.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘She didn’t need to. I saw the aftermath.’
Gemma wrinkled her nose. ‘I take no prisoners.’
‘I meant the role.’
‘I thought you did.’ Despite Matt not being Gemma’s favourite person, it felt disloyal somehow to speak about him like this. ‘The job suits my needs for now.’
Oliver glanced over the bay to the Gothic house perched on the cliffs. ‘That’s how Anna and I met. She came to work for me over there.’
‘I met Mrs Clegg yesterday. She said she used to housekeep for you but she didn’t say where.’
‘I rented Harbourwatch for a few years, mainly to complete a manuscript. The owners have returned since.’ He turned back to face Gemma. ‘I think Anna found me hard work to begin with.’
‘Perhaps she liked a challenge too.’ Gemma’s hand shot to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry. That was rude.’
Oliver, however, looked amused. ‘Not at all. Besides, what’s life without a little trial and tribulation?’
Anna burst into the room. ‘Oliver, Lauren’s coming sooner than we thought! She heard— Oh, hi, Gemma. I didn’t realise you’d arrived.’
‘That’s great news.’ Oliver stood and Anna went straight into his embrace, burying her face in his chest. ‘Are you crying?’
‘No,’ came the muffled reply, followed by a loud sniff.
‘Happens a lot,’ Oliver mouthed at Gemma, who hid her smile.
‘Sorry.’ Anna straightened, wiping her eyes. ‘I’ve always been a bit of a watering pot, but this wedding is making me so emotional, it’s ridiculous.’
‘What happened with Lauren’s business trip?’
‘It’s been moved to the new year, so she, Daniel and Mia are coming down for Christmas and staying until the day after the wedding.’ Delight infused Anna’s expression as she turned to Gemma. ‘Lauren’s my best mate, and Mia’s our god-daughter. They live in Yorkshire most of the time, but Daniel – he’s Oliver’s business partner – built this amazing house up on the cliffs and they stay there whenever they visit.’
There was a bit of chat about the wedding and then Oliver excused himself to get some work done, but before he left the room, and as Anna busied herself at the island, preparing to teach Gemma some allegedly foolproof culinary techniques, he said quietly:
‘Keep an eye on Matt. I’ve not said so to Anna, but he seems to be floundering. If he’s heading for a fall, he’s going to need someone to catch him.’
Jean borrowed her mum’s wheelie shopping trolley to help Gemma ferry things to the boat. Aside from the case and holdall, there were all the shopping supplies – for which Matt had provided a lengthy list – for the next few days, along with a large bag for life packed with food from Anna’s kitchen.
‘If you’re not happy, you must come back to me, okay?’ Jean hugged Gemma tightly before she stepped into the boat.
Touched, Gemma blew her aunt a kiss. ‘I’ll see you on my day off. I’m sure it will be fine.’
Fastening her life-vest, she manoeuvred the motor into the water, attached the kill cord and fired up the engine. ‘I’ll text you when I’m settled in.’
Gemma steered the boat carefully away from the jetty, out through the harbour entrance, and then turned away from the sea, heading for the bridge over the river. It may have been a few years since she’d done this, but it was like riding a bike, surely?
The boat moved effortlessly through the dark-green water, watched over by the trees clinging to the valley sides. There was no breeze now, and dusk was claiming the skies overhead, a grey mantle descending from the east.
Gemma shivered as the chill stole through her jacket. Two choughs swooped low over the river, their plaintive cries echoing off the slowly moving water. She was going against the tide, and it took a little longer than she’d expected to finally espy the narrow gap in the grassy banks, one side of which was topped by a massive tree stump.
Lights shone from several windows of the mill as Gemma manoeuvred the little boat into the creek. Slowing, she edged nearer to the pontoon. There were lights on in the studio, too but no sound emanated from it. She’d get settled in, then deal with the shopping. It was too early for Matt to want dinner, which would give her plenty of time to try out the range cooker – something she was dreading, but there was bound to be a YouTube video if all else failed.
Once unpacked, Gemma left the cottage for the house. She’d do a quick clean-up and then go through Anna’s notes. This was going to be easy money. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
As it happened, Matt was more than happy when Gemma relayed what was for dinner, then added, ‘Oh, and can you do a sticky toffee pudding for afters? It’s my favourite.’
After putting in a panicked call to Anna, who was in Truro with Oliver and unable to help, Gemma began hurriedly opening cupboards, seeking inspiration.
There was no toffee in sight. Or anything remotely sticky. Could you make a pudding from porridge oats and tinned rhubarb?