Chapter Six
At forty-three, Lola had been married to a local fisherman for almost a decade until things had gone wrong between the two of them.
They’d been living apart for over two years and Lola had arranged tonight to mark the official end of her marriage.
It might seem like a strange milestone to celebrate – Tammy silently chuckled, remembering how taken aback Ruan had been – but as she raised her glass, Tammy knew Lola was simply relieved that the process was officially over.
‘So, here’s to many happy years of singledom! Congratulations, Lola!’
Six glasses clinked in unison and loud congratulations rang out around the table.
‘Well done, Lola. Tonight is a fresh start for you,’ Shefali, one of the gang, lifted her own glass.
Tammy’s friends ranged in age from their mid-twenties to their late fifties.
Initially, they’d met when a yoga class had started up in the village hall a couple of years earlier.
None of them took the moves seriously and there was lots of giggling and grunting, but Tammy found it helped her relax after working on the beach or in the gallery.
The best part, by far, was the social side, because after the class, they usually ended up at one of Porthmellow’s harbourside pubs for a quick drink or coffee.
Tonight, however, they were pushing the boat out at the Blue Dolphin with dinner, fizz and cocktails.
The evening was warm enough for the bar’s upper balcony doors to be pushed back, giving Lola’s party a great view of the harbour.
There were tons of craft moored cheek by jowl, taking advantage of the fine bank holiday weather and the setting sun, which made the water look like liquid gold.
Tapas arrived and the gang ate, drank, chatted and laughed. After enduring such a rollercoaster of emotions earlier in the day, the party was exactly what Tammy needed to help her unwind. Sitting in the midst of her friends, she felt blessed to live in Porthmellow with such a great bunch of people.
After their meal, she was on her way back from the bathroom when she spotted a familiar figure standing at the bar with a group of mates. Who could miss that mane of blond hair and a laugh that was so deep and loud it was as if no one else was in the room?
Sean Carrow had never cared who heard him or what they thought of him, Tammy mused – apart from Tammy herself, perhaps. He was attractive and he was fun to be around as long as he was the centre of attention.
However, he’d wanted more than fun: he’d wanted her to be “exclusively his – forever” as he put it and asked her to move in and think about setting a date for a wedding.
Her mood dipped a little, wishing that he hadn’t walked across her path today of all days. She’d known him since she was a child and they’d been at the same primary school.
When she’d gone to art college in Falmouth, Sean had trained as a bricklayer.
Now he had his own building firm, one that had gained a reputation for handling prestigious projects.
The second-home owners seemed to love him, despite his eyewatering prices.
He did a great job and was known for being able to solve even the most challenging construction problems. If you wanted your gleaming white gin palace constructed on a cliffside, Sean was your man.
He also played the laid-back Cornish surfer boy to the max, deliberately keeping a surfboard in his van, even though he’d never caught a wave in his life.
As a result, he was booked up for many months, employed a large team of tradespeople, and had built himself a beautiful house overlooking Porthmellow town beach.
Tammy couldn’t help comparing him with Ruan physically. Sean hardly had his shirt on some days, strutting around sites or working on scaffolding in a hard hat.
As for Ruan, while she hadn’t exactly seen him with his shirt off, she’d seen enough to know he must do something other than lounge in a wood-panelled office in Penzance and visit wealthy clients.
It was hardly a question she could ask him, though: how come you’re so fit and gorgeous when you sit behind a desk for a living?
She forced a friendly nod when Sean raised his pint of Doom Bar to her by way of a greeting and hoped she could avoid any long, involved conversations about why she’d ‘wrecked him’.
They’d ended up dating just over a year ago – actually, dating wasn’t an accurate way to describe their relationship. They’d had fun to begin with and she’d enjoyed the physical side of the relationship.
Hearing his rumbling laugh at the bar, Tammy’s skin prickled. Sean had been hurt and angry when she’d told him she wasn’t ready or looking for a that kind of commitment yet – possibly ever – and they’d split up. He hadn’t got over it.
Back at the table, Lola got on one side of her while the others were chatting to each other and ordering drinks. ‘Is that Sean?’
‘Yeah. Unfortunately.’
Lola rolled her eyes. ‘Ignore him. You moved on long ago and he ought to realise that. You’ve got your own future to think about, not his past. While we’re on that, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d heard anything from the OceanFest people?’
Tammy was grateful for her friend switching the focus from her past to her – possible – future. ‘No. Not yet.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve given up hope, to be honest.’
Lola smiled encouragingly. ‘You never know. There’s still time.’
‘I think I’d have been notified by now – others have. But I can’t deny it would have been amazing and not only because of the fee. The exposure could have led to so many commissions.’
OceanFest was a three-day festival of music and arts on Perranporth beach and the biggest event of its kind in the south-west by far. Beach art including sand sculptures and sand drawings were a key part of the festival.
Tammy’s work had been spotted by one of the organisers but she’d been too late to apply.
However, her contact had been in touch a couple of days previously to say there might be a slot for her after all, since one of the other artists had pulled out for family reasons.
She was waiting for the director of the festival to look at her portfolio and give the final say-so, but the director had been off sick.
‘I wish I knew for certain that they do or don’t need me because I’ve cleared my diary for those dates and turned down a commission already. And if, by some miracle, it does happen, I need to practise my designs.’
‘Well, I hope you do hear from them because you’d ace it,’ Lola said. ‘You deserve it more than anyone. And thanks for coming tonight. I know it’s a difficult day for you.’
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world and, actually, having something to look forward to has been a good distraction.’
Lola gave her a hug. ‘I heard about your tribute to him on the beach. Sorry I couldn’t leave work, but some of the gang shared photos on WhatsApp. It was beautiful and your dad would have been proud. Were you OK?’
‘Fine. Honestly. And I made twenty quid for the Community Fund shop from tourists.’
‘Always a bonus.’ Lola hesitated. ‘Could the need to avoid Sean have anything to do with that bloke you were sharing an ice cream with on the sea wall afterwards?’
Tammy gave a gasp of mock horror. ‘Don’t say there were photos shared of that too?’
Lola giggled. ‘Not exactly, though I heard it wasn’t too much of a hardship to look at him. Do you know him?’
Tammy’s stomach fluttered, wondering if she dared admit she’d taken a stranger back to her flat, however innocuous the reason. Yet Lola was a good friend and wouldn’t judge her.
‘To be honest, I don’t know him at all. Or didn’t. He was admiring my design.’
Lola let out a squeal. ‘That’s a new way of saying it!’
‘Yeah. Sounds really dodgy, doesn’t it? But I think he genuinely was interested in my art. He was in town for a legal appointment. He’s a solicitor in Penzance – works for Gaverne’s.’
Lola’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Wow. Swanky. They charge a fortune. They represent our lot,’ she said, referring to the firm of accountants she worked for. ‘He looks different from your usual type, though.’
‘In what way?’
‘Professional. Conventional.’
‘I suppose …’ Tammy said, wondering what her best friend saw as her type. Did she mean Sean with his carefully cultivated ‘Real Cornishman’ image? ‘He was only in a suit because of work. He dropped the ice cream down his shirt, so I said he could have my dad’s old one.’
Lola’s eyes widened. ‘You gave him your dad’s shirt?’
‘Yes. It’s no use to me and Ruan had a meeting with a bereaved client. He came back to the flat and tried on the shirt – and then he left,’ Tammy added hastily before her friend could make a comment.
Lola let out a breath. ‘OK. In your flat, eh? This Ruan sounds like a fast mover.’
‘No, he isn’t. The opposite. He’s quiet and nerdy and I invited him to the flat. He wasn’t sure about it.’
‘I’ve no doubt. I just worry about you … I don’t want you to be hurt again, lovely.’
Tammy’s smile hid a sense of dismay. Were her friends that protective of her? Was she such a tragic figure in their eyes that they were worried she couldn’t even handle one date?
‘I know you mean well. I know you all care, but it was only an ice cream.’
‘And a shirt,’ Lola added archly.
‘And a shirt, which he offered to return,’ she qualified. ‘I didn’t want it back and I know Dad would rather have seen it go to a good home.’
‘So, you won’t see him again?’ Lola asked.
‘Actually, yes, I will. I am,’ Tammy qualified, smiling when she thought of the call she’d had from Ruan while she was getting ready for tonight’s party.
‘We’re going out for something to eat tomorrow.
He’s only recently moved here for his new job.
’ She suddenly realised that he’d been in her flat, yet she didn’t even know where he was living.
‘Oh, Lola, please don’t give me that look.
Trust me on this. It’ll probably just be dinner.
I still don’t know if we have anything in common. ’