Chapter 10 #2
‘Aye, that they do. James was Lord Robert’s younger cousin.
Bess lived with her family in London, you see, and it was arranged that the Halcyon would bring her to Cornwall for the wedding.
James was the ship’s captain. That’s how they met.
’ He leans against the counter, settling into his tale.
‘Captain James had good family connections, but little capital. So in the time-honoured way of the Cornish, he made up for it by skimming some off the top. He did some smuggling, some pirating, some dodging the customs men. What could have been a quick voyage turned into weeks. Plenty of time to get to know each other.’
‘I see.’
‘James was handsome and dashing,’ Cliff continues, ‘and good-natured besides. He was a fair bloke, and his crew was loyal and respected him. It was no wonder that the maid fell for him – and he for her.’
‘It sounds very romantic.’
‘Aye.’ He smiles wistfully. ‘Captain James made Bess a little trinket – a ship in a bottle that was a replica of the Halcyon. That’s the one in the painting.
He gave it to her as a pledge – told her that he’d sail through fire and storm, to the ends of the earth, and through death, but that he’d return and fetch her. ’
‘And he tried, didn’t he?’
‘That’s right. But he came too late. You know the rest, I think.’
‘Yes, I do.’
The whole story gives me the collywobbles. Two Penhelion cousins – one handsome and romantic, one cold and heartless. Who does that sound like?
‘Anyway, the past is done and gone,’ Cliff says. ‘It can’t be put right. But that said, history does have a way of repeating itself. It’s like we’re cursed to make the same mistakes over and over.’
‘What mistakes?’ I say.
‘Choosing the wrong person to love. Or finding love and being too scared to make something of it.’ He sighs, and I sense he’s speaking from experience.
‘Is that why you never married?’
He shrugs again. ‘Maybe. It’s just, the past hangs heavy on me. Our ancestor… and what he did to that poor maid.’
‘But Old John Dog lived hundreds of years ago,’ I say. ‘I don’t think we can really blame him for whatever’s gone wrong in our lives now. And even if we could, then isn’t it up to us to learn the lessons of history and break the pattern?’
‘Aye, maid, you’re right.’ He shakes his head. ‘But I haven’t done much of that learning myself. Maybe the dead will be kinder to you.’
‘I’m more focused on the living, to be honest.’
‘And well you should. You’ve got two lovely babes. Look after them while you can.’
‘I’m trying to. It’s not easy.’
‘I’m sure. But you need to keep ’em safe. And that means staying away from—’
But the warning is unfinished. A loud rap sounds on the front door.
‘Knock, knock,’ a man calls out. ‘Juno – are you there?’
Cliff frowns as I stand up. ‘You expecting someone?’
‘No…’ I say. But that voice… deep… sonorous… Butterflies rise in my stomach. ‘Just give me a second.’
I go to the door, flustered, and open it.
Oliver Penhelion, AKA the self-proclaimed Pirate King, is standing on my doorstep holding a pink box with the logo of a fancy bakery.
‘Oh. Um… Ollie. Hi. This is a surprise.’
‘A good one, I hope.’ He gives me a glittering smile.
‘I… think so. Would you like to come in?’
I’m expecting him to enter with relish – so I’m surprised when, just for a second, his face morphs into something feral.
Cliff has come up behind me, I realise. The two men look at each other like dogs, squared off, ready to fight over the same territory.
I’m a little shocked – given Cliff’s tale of the two Penhelion cousins from long ago, I would have thought he would champion Ollie over Will.
Not that I really know the first thing about it…
Ollie steps aside, defusing the tension. ‘Cliff,’ he says, oozing charm. ‘It’s good to see you. We missed you at the history day.’
‘I doubt that,’ the old man grumbles. ‘And I surely didn’t miss you.’
‘Oh, come on.’ Ollie laughs. ‘An old salt like you. I would have thought you would have at least been round to see the Halcyon in all her glory.’
‘I’d rather see her at the bottom of the sea.’
I look from one to the other. But Cliff shoves past both of us and goes out the door.
‘Cliff,’ I call out.
He looks back over his shoulder, shaking his head. ‘They never get the message,’ I hear him mutter.
Next to me, Ollie laughs. ‘You gotta love Cliff,’ he says. ‘What a character!’
‘What was that about?’ I say, frowning. ‘Are you trying to put him in a home too?’
‘Put Cliff in a home!’ His jaw drops in mock-horror. ‘Absolutely not. God, what home would have him? No – best if one day, he sails off into the sunset. He’ll “live and die a Pirate King”.’
‘So he’s a pirate too?’
He laughs again. ‘Maybe pirate is the wrong word – Cliff’s more of a scavenger. But I would have thought the history festival was right up his street – or his shipping lane.’
‘Maybe it’s the fake pirates that he objects to.’
He gives me a wounded look. ‘Fake? I hope you’re not referring to moi.’ He puts a theatrical hand on his chest.
It’s my turn to laugh. ‘Of course not,’ I say, ‘though, you’re not exactly looking the part today.’
In fact, he looks gorgeous. He’s wearing casual trousers and a blue shirt that brings out the sparkling blue of his eyes; his dark-blond hair is tied back at the nape of his neck, but a few wisps frame his face.
‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ he says. ‘But I must say, you’re looking stunning this morning.’
I assume he’s joking, but his smile seems genuinely admiring.
‘You mean because I haven’t bathed or brushed my hair?’ I say. ‘In fact, you’re lucky I’m even dressed.’
‘Not that lucky, then.’ His smile turns seductive. I can’t believe I’m flirting with this man – again. Me. It feels strange. It feels… good.
‘So what brings you here?’ I say.
‘I was hoping to tempt you with baked goods.’ He indicates the box. ‘Unless you’ve already eaten.’
‘Cliff made eggs,’ I say. ‘There’s still some left.’
‘I won’t say no, fair lady.’ He hands me the box. ‘Do lead the way.’
I feel fizzy with nerves as he follows me into the kitchen. It’s still messy from my breakfast, and I worry that the kids might come down at any moment and spook my visitor. I make Ollie a cup of tea and refill my own mug.
‘Cracking view,’ he says.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘It is. But surely, you’ve been here before?’
‘Oh yes, many times. Victoria and I got on famously. Though, I can’t say the same about Cliff and Elspeth.’
‘Is it because you’re a Penhelion?’
‘Of course.’ He laughs. ‘Round here, bad blood goes way back. For the older generation, a hundred years is a blink of an eye and the rest of us are expected to play along. Between you and me, I think it’s all a lot of bunk.’
‘Really?’ I give him a wry look. ‘That’s quite a statement coming from a “Pirate King”.’
‘I like to do my bit, and, if the shoe fits… so to speak.’
‘It certainly does. I thought you were brilliant.’ I blush again. ‘You’ve got quite the voice. Maybe you should be a gondolier.’
He laughs. ‘I’m not sure I could pass as Italian.’ He indicates his blond hair. ‘That’s more in my cousin’s wheelhouse. Lord of the manor, and me not fit to lick his boots.’
‘I’ve only met him once,’ I say, ‘but that seems an apt description. He was rude to me, and he certainly rattled Cliff by suggesting he go into care.’
‘Will’s caused Cliff no end of trouble,’ he says. ‘He was the one who took away his livelihood.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Cliff used to own the Halcyon. He ran a complete “pirate experience” from the dock at Penkernick. He’d fill the ship with punters and take them out on a booze cruise docking out in the bay.
Then, he’d take them in by a smaller boat to the cove below the inn, and up into the pirate cave.
It was pretty successful, if you can believe it.
And he even had a “special tour” for discerning punters that ended with a dram of bootleg liquor that he stored down there. ’
‘No! Really?’
‘Oh yes,’ he says. ‘Anyway, the “lord of the manor” thought the whole venture was unsafe. He called the council and got them to close down the cave. Literally killed off Cliff’s business overnight.’
‘Could he do that?’ Indignant, I slam the mugs of tea on the table.
‘Whether he could or not, he did. Cliff made a fuss, but the damage was done. Cliff couldn’t afford to take matters any further.
He auctioned off the ship and bought the Porthcurno – the boat he lives on now.
I happened to be the lucky purchaser of the barque.
’ He shrugs offhandedly. ‘But Cliff still resents me for it.’
‘The whole thing is just awful.’
‘Yes, but that’s Will for you. Always thinks he knows what’s best for everyone. And…’ Ollie leans in, lowering his voice, ‘there are those who say that Will got the venture closed down because he didn’t want the competition.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There are smugglers’ tunnels and old mine workings that run from here all the way to Polgothley. Our ancestor, Lord Robert, was an upstanding citizen on the surface, but he was secretly involved in smuggling, wrecking, and all sorts.’ He shrugs. ‘Maybe there’s some ancestral memory at work.’
I stare at him. ‘You think Will’s using the caves for smuggling?’
He holds up his hands. ‘Oh no, I wouldn’t want to disparage his lordship by talking out of turn.
But there have been goings-on along this stretch of coastline and someone knows something.
Someone who knows the caves inside out, and is respectable enough not to draw attention to themselves. Will meets both criteria to a T.’
‘But why would he do that?’
‘Who knows? Not me, surely. Forget I mentioned it. After all, Will’s been good to me. He gave me a loan to help me buy the Halcyon. So I’m grateful for that.’ His brow wrinkles.
‘You don’t look it.’
He laughs. ‘I guess you can see right through me. Though in truth, I did appreciate his help when I was trying to get up and running. But I’m making a good profit now, and even though I’ve tried to pay him back, he’s refusing to relinquish his interest in the business.
So… I’m afraid, the bad blood continues. Penhelion against Penhelion.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it.’
‘Well, that’s life.’ He takes a long sip of his tea. ‘And I’m sure you’ve heard quite enough about me. I want to know about you.’ He gives me a long, melting glance. ‘I want to know all about Juno Cartwright.’
Blushing furiously, I give him the barest of summaries, making sure to cover the salient point: I’m here for the foreseeable future – and I’m single. He rewards my efforts with a brilliant, white-toothed smile.
‘Sounds like you’re well shot of your life in London,’ he says. ‘And everything happens for a reason.’
‘It does.’ I nod. ‘I’m starting to think that coming here really was for the best.’
* * *
Ollie and I drink tea, eat pastries, and chat amiably until a sleepy Bridget comes down for breakfast. I feel light and carefree – the terrors associated with living in a potentially haunted inn seem vague and remote.
Ollie excuses himself; he’s due at the docks to prepare the Halcyon for a corporate away day.
‘I need to make sure the champagne and beer have been loaded aboard,’ he says.
‘That’s really all they care about.’ There’s an edge to his voice like he doesn’t approve. ‘But it’s a living.’
‘Yes,’ I say, as I walk him to the door. ‘And we all need that.’
Just before going out, he stops and turns to me, his face only inches from mine. ‘Now, Juno, can we get to the real reason I came to see you?’
‘Um, sure.’ I feel a little tremor of unease. As comfortable as I feel around this man, I don’t know him from Adam. Have I done something wrong? Why is that always my default thought?
‘I want to take you out on the Halcyon. Just you and me – and the crew, of course. I’ll show you the real Cornwall – which is out on the water. Are you game?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But… why me?’
‘Why you?’ His eyes are soft as he looks at me. ‘Well, let’s just say, I don’t get out much.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
He laughs. ‘It’s true. And we don’t have many beautiful women moving to the neighbourhood.’
‘Oh stop,’ I say, blushing. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’
‘No?’ His smile is dazzling. ‘That’s a pity. But what do you say? Will you come out with me? We could go on Friday afternoon.’
‘Friday? Um… OK.’
‘Great.’ He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. ‘It’s a date.’