Chapter Thirty-Six
Never had Tammy been more grateful to be busy over the course of the next week or so. Even if she hadn’t been rushed off her feet, she’d have found something to occupy every waking moment to distract her.
She’d accepted that it wasn’t Ruan’s fault, and that he’d held back ‘for her sake’, yet her trust in him was hanging by a fraying thread. The bitterness of discovering the truth was made far worse by the fact that Sean had been the one to set her on the trail and that he’d been right.
She avoided all the places around town where Sean might pop up: the pubs, the pasty shop, the sandwich bar. God forbid that he’d waltz into the gallery when she was working, barely able to hide his glee and offering to save her.
At least Ruan had had the sense to keep his distance apart from a message asking if she was OK, which she’d fended off with a vague: Yes. I’ll be in touch .
Exactly when and how she’d be in touch, she had no idea.
She launched into dealing further with the aftermath of the festival, which should have been an undiluted pleasure and the culmination of years of hard work and hopes.
Enquiries were still coming thick and fast and she’d had to set up a spreadsheet – a thing she’d never have believed of herself – to keep track of who wanted what design and when.
Some of the potential clients found it very hard to grasp that their commission depended on the tides and the weather and that she could offer no absolute guarantees the project would go ahead.
One man had tried to book a birthday treat for his partner on a remote beach near Land’s End for the following year. Tammy had to explain that the beach in question might not even have any sand left following the winter storms which could scour it away in a night.
However, she already had three workshops planned over the summer, and was looking forward to them, even though her experience of teaching was limited.
She was always big on the idea that beach art was for everyone because the landscape literally belonged to everyone.
Her higher profile gave her the opportunity to share her skills and passion with more people.
She’d been out with her friends a couple of times and fended off questions about Ruan. Everyone liked him and Lola went in for some gentle teasing about when they’d get to meet him again. Tammy had answered with vague mentions of how busy he was with work and kitesurfing with his friends.
Davey had told her she was looking tired, but she’d batted back that so was he and said she was snowed under with enquiries. He’d offered to ask Breda to help out in the gallery again, but she’d insisted she was OK.
‘It’s July now. We’ll only get busier as the schools start to break up.’
‘The private school kids will be in here before we know it, knocking stuff over,’ Davey grumbled.
‘All kids break stuff,’ Tammy said, his comment having raised one of the few smiles she’d managed that week. ‘And their parents are your best customers. You’ll need my help and Breda’s – and probably Mullet Boy too.’
‘He’s called Keiron,’ Davey said archly.
‘Keiron, then. I’m off to the post office shortly so if there’s anything else you need me to take, can you let me know as soon as?’
Davey nodded and returned twenty minutes later with a small parcel and two letters.
Tammy headed out into the sunshine, noting the increase in cars, visitors and seagulls.
Peak season was just around the corner and with her growing list of commissions there was no time to think about Ruan – except she did think about him.
Not thinking about him was exhausting and not seeing him caused a physical ache in her chest. She had to make her peace with him sometime, but could she ever feel about him as she had before?
After finishing her errands at the post office, she trudged out to the harbourside, trying to focus on the warmth of the sunshine and the waves slapping against the stone quay.
Her phone buzzed and she stopped by the slipway to check it.
There were two messages: one from Lola inviting her to supper and one from Ruan, asking again if they could meet to talk.
‘Tammy.’
She glanced up and her heart plummeted to the bottom of the harbour. Sean rose up in front of her like a rotting boat that had been uncovered by the falling tide.
Was that fair? He had been telling the truth after all.
‘I was right, wasn’t I?’ he said. ‘You’ve been to the house. You know he’s been lying.’
Tammy rapidly revised her opinion. She’d been more than fair. Sean had only shared his news to take revenge on her.
‘How can you possibly know that?’ she asked. ‘Have you been following me?’
‘Not following. I happened to be driving the lads back from the Logan Rock pub last week after Spike’s birthday. I saw your van parked in the layby round the corner from Rosewarne.’
Tammy gasped in astonishment at the lengths Sean had gone to. ‘Sure you were. You just happened to take the bottom road for a change. The road that’s completely out of your usual way?’
‘One of the lads lives in Lamorna. I dropped him off. You think I persuaded them all to have a birthday drink at the Logan Rock just so I could stalk you?’
‘No … but it seems like a hell of a coincidence.’
‘It is a coincidence. Like it is that Ruan just happened to be in Porthmellow and happened to chat you up.’
‘He didn’t “chat me up”. Jeez. What is this, 1975? We met randomly. I know he inherited the place and that’s – well, that’s how it goes.’ Tammy faced up to him, refusing to give Sean an ounce of satisfaction for being the one to reveal the truth about Rosewarne.
Sean snorted and a smirk spread over his face ‘I was right.’
‘Yes, Sean, you were right. Clever boy.’ She mimed applause. ‘Now you can be as smug as you like.’
‘Well, I did it for your sake. I love you.’
‘No, you don’t. Hurting me and revelling in my pain isn’t love and if you think that destroying me and Ruan means I’ll gratefully come running to you for comfort, you can think again.’
‘I’ve shot myself in the foot, haven’t I? How can a humble builder compete with a flash lawyer who owns the dream place you’d love to get back. Now he has everything you want and I’ll never get a look-in.’
Tammy boiled over. ‘If you think that I was interested in Ruan for a house – if you think I’d ever hook up with a man for his money, then you really don’t know me. You never have understood me. We will never ever get back together, Sean.’
He sneered. ‘Christ, you sound like a Taylor Swift song.’
‘Taylor is spot on in this case. Stay well away from me from now on – or else.’
Davey found Tammy sitting on the terrace with a bowl of food later that evening. He was drying his hands on a towel after being busy in the studio all day.
‘Penny for them?’
She glanced up. ‘What?’
‘Penny for your thoughts. You’ve been giving that rabbit food some serious attention for a while now.’
‘It’s a tuna poke bowl,’ she said, setting it down on the table.
‘Why can’t you have a pasty like a respectable person?’
‘Because I’m not sure I’m respectable and poke bowls are delicious. I made this – there’s more in the fridge if you fancy it.’
‘It sounds weird to me.’
‘It has tuna landed off Porthmellow and tons of rabbit food,’ she explained.
‘Why haven’t you wolfed it down then?’
‘I’m not very hungry.’
‘Has it been busy?’
‘A tale of two halves. Quiet all morning then heaving this afternoon.’
He sat down at the table. ‘Is the loss of appetite anything to do with Ruan?’
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m knackered, that’s all. There’s been a lot to sort out after the festival. So many messages and emails …’
‘What it is to be popular and successful,’ Davey said with an ironic lift of his bushy brows. ‘Well, I think you’ve been working too hard. Why don’t you take tomorrow off? Go out with Ruan.’
‘Saturday’s your busiest day. Aren’t you still trying to complete that hotel commission?’
‘I am and Saturday is busy but Breda said she’d help and – don’t complain – I’ve asked Keiron too. He needs the experience.’
‘I hope he won’t scare the customers off.’
‘Not with Breda to supervise. You should go and see Ruan. That’s an order.’
Tammy picked up the poke bowl again and prodded a lettuce leaf. ‘He’s probably busy.’
‘I doubt it and you must be desperate to see him. Both of you. He hasn’t been round here for more than a week.’
‘No. He hasn’t.’
‘What’s going on?’ Davey gave her that look. ‘Tammy. Is everything OK between you two?’
Tammy didn’t want to tell him, yet she needed to share with someone.
‘I – There is something. Something I didn’t know about him. You’ll probably find out sooner or later on the grapevine or from Sean.’
He frowned. ‘Sean?’
‘Yeah. Sean decided to share with me, because he “cares about me”, that Ruan hasn’t been completely honest about his living arrangements.
He does live in a caravan but it’s in the grounds of Rosewarne.
Sean went to give him a quote for restoring the house.
Ruan owns Rosewarne and the place next door.
It’s one big house now. I went there and I saw it and Ruan.
I—’ Suddenly, the dam she’d held back for over a week burst. ‘It’s in a terrible state.
It’s a wreck and Ruan owns it and didn’t tell me. ’
She waited for Davey to explode but he rubbed his beard. ‘Ah …’
‘There’s worse. Do you know who left it to him?
It was Walter Cavendish. He was Ruan’s great-uncle and Ruan says he’s no idea why he was left the place and he swears he didn’t know when he met me on the harbour that first day.
He says it’s all a coincidence and he only knew the house as Seaspray and thought it was one big property, yet now …
He tried to hide the truth from me, and now I don’t feel the same about him. ’
‘Hmm,’ Davey murmured, seeming remarkably more calm than Tammy had expected. ‘So you’re cut up that he has a place that meant so much to you and your dad? And that he was left it by such a venal old sod as Walter?’