Chapter Twelve
Cat spent the morning with another client Siobhan had set up in her absence – Mrs Wentworth, and her daughter, Charlotte.
The big day was due to take place in two weeks’ time, so this consultation was simply a final box-ticking exercise to make sure everything was in place.
Mrs Wentworth’s husband, a small rotund Yorkshireman whose catchphrase was, ‘Nothing’s too good for my Charlie and her Eric’, was thankfully not present.
Business in Exeter, Tessa Wentworth confided.
Cat was relieved. Mr Wentworth had become a bit of a nuisance, questioning every aspect of the wedding planning.
Thankfully, this morning she only had to deal with the two women, a quick session, over in less than an hour.
They finished up with a glass of champagne on the house.
Cat felt it was the least these two deserved after having to put up with the pompous Mr W.
As they left, Nathan appeared in the doorway of his office.
‘Time to clock off and catch some surf. You promised, remember?’ he said with a grin as he tapped his watch.
Yes, of course she had. After their first visit a couple of weeks ago, Nathan had suggested making this a regular weekly thing.
Within moments she had shut down her computer, closed her office door and followed him to get changed.
West Beach was busy, packed with holidaymakers as well as those who had come to ride the waves.
Red and yellow flags indicated the swimming areas, while the black and white flags marked the surfing-only part of the beach.
A white flatbed truck towing a jet ski was parked towards the back of the beach, indicating the presence of patrolling lifeguards watching for any problems. Cat and Nathan’s surfing gear were kept with Sam, who rented out lockers, so it was merely a case of changing into their wet suits, collecting the boards and heading for the sea.
The surfers’ beach had a rough car park currently occupied by a variety of four-by-fours and VW camper vans.
It was almost a full house, today’s offshore wind giving near perfect conditions.
Reaching the water’s edge, Cat and Nathan, joined by a late and rather apologetic Jodie, slipped their leashes around their ankles and waded out.
‘Sea’s warmer than I thought,’ Cat heard Jodie comment from a few feet behind her.
It had become second nature now; flipping onto the board, paddling out to reach the right spot, watching for the wave to arrive, turning the board, feeling the pressure build behind and then raising herself up and riding it to the shore.
Cat concentrated on keeping her balance, bare feet firm against the surface of her surfboard.
She ignored everything else around her, aware only of every single movement of the board as it carried her towards the beach.
With the sun on her back and wind and spray in her face, she felt the adrenalin rush and embraced that special moment of being at one with the ocean.
Later she shared a glass of chilled wine with Jodie on the decking out front of Sam and Beni’s. Jodie, back from her London/Manchester trip revealed that she had secured a contract with a major High Street retailer for her knitwear and jewellery.
‘And not only that,’ she continued, ‘at the exhibition this woman approached me. Said she was very impressed with my collection. She gave me her business card, I gave her a brochure and she said she’d be in touch.
Well, you know what it’s like. People say things and then you never hear from them again.
It’s happened before so I didn’t think any more about it.
But today I received an email. She’s a freelance fashion journalist and wants to do a piece on Strawberry Starfish for one of the high end women’s fashion mags. ’
‘That’s amazing,’ Cat enthused. ‘It looks as if things really are beginning to happen for you.’
‘Don’t get too excited, it’s an interview, nothing more.’ Jodie was quick to play down the whole thing. ‘It might not come to anything.’
‘Oh come on, you might be the next Ryan Roche.’
‘I wish.’ Jodie smiled, distracted by the arrival of half a dozen tanned girls in an assortment of colourful beachwear.
Cat watched as the small group, who she recognised as Jordan’s followers, seated themselves along the far end of the veranda with a loud scraping of chairs and noisy chatter. ‘That’s funny,’ she remarked, ‘isn’t that Chantelle? Why isn’t she with Jordan?’
‘Yes it is, I wonder what’s happened,’ Jodie said as they continued to watch.
Having stacked his board away and changed, Nathan arrived, agreeing to stop for a quick drink, needing to be back within the hour for a meeting.
Benita arrived with a beer for him. ‘Must be the hottest afternoon so far,’ she declared, fanning her hand in front of her face before making her way along the veranda to take the girls’ orders.
As Beni moved away Nathan joined them at the table and conversation resumed. ‘Right,’ Jodie fixed Cat with a curious stare, ‘now you’ve heard all my news, what have you been up to? Have there been any sightings of the delicious Mr Carrack during my absence?’
‘A bit more than that.’ Nathan grinned. ‘Go on then,’ he prompted, ‘tell her.’
‘The day we had coffee,’ Cat began, aware this conversation would earn her a thorough quizzing from Jodie, ‘I ran into him quite by accident. He invited me to dinner. Cooked the most amazing meal.’ Cat felt her heart soar when she thought of that evening.
The way they had fallen into easy conversation once more, like friends who had known each other for years.
‘A meal? Well,’ Jodie made a face, ‘sounds as if it’s getting serious, Cat.’
‘Absolutely not.’ Cat took a mouthful of wine. She could do without the matchmaking. Luke wasn’t relationship material. He’d already made that clear in not so many words. But she was happy with friendship. Friendship was fine.
‘What about your drink at The Smugglers and walk along the beach then?’ Again Nathan intervened, mischievously revealing far more than Cat was comfortable with.
‘Wow.’ Jodie whistled. ‘It is getting serious.’
‘Nonsense. We enjoy each other’s company, that’s all. We’re friends. Not all relationships have to be about sex.’
‘Hang on, Cat, we’re talking about Luke Carrack.’ Jodie laughed. ‘Lord if I was in your shoes I’d have—’
‘Well, I’m not you,’ Cat said dismissively, trying to keep her voice calm.
Jodie had hit a nerve but there was no way she was going to let her know the truth.
That sadly Luke Carrack didn’t want that sort of relationship with anyone.
Not even her. The loud buzz of approaching engines interrupted the conversation and all three shifted their attention to a collection of approaching jet skis.
The noise quietened as they coasted gently towards the beach.
Immediately she recognised the riders. Jordan Hunter and his friends.
On the far side of the veranda the girls were already on their feet.
Chantelle had moved over to the low wall on the edge of the decking.
She stared towards the sea, a furious expression on her face before turning back to her friends with a comment Cat couldn’t quite hear.
The next moment she was weaving through the other tables, almost colliding with a young surfer in board shorts carrying a tray of empty bottles.
Without stopping to apologise she was off at a run, dodging even more people as she headed across the beach.
Jodie gave Cat a ‘wonder what that’s all about then’ look. It was Nathan, standing behind their chairs, who supplied the answer.
‘Jordan’s offloaded a girl from the jet ski. There’s a bit of a confrontation going on. Shit!’ Nathan hardly ever swore so Cat knew whatever was happening must be bad.
‘What’s going on?’ Jodie got to her feet, frowning as she followed his gaze, trying to figure out what he was seeing.
‘Marika, that’s what. Damn!’ The next moment he’d vaulted over the low wall and onto the beach.
‘Who’s Marika?’ Jodie asked as they ran across the sand to catch up with Nathan. Cat told her about the Polish waitress and the way she had flirted with Jordan on the night of the family dinner.
Up ahead, a small crowd had gathered and they squeezed their way through, discovering Nathan kneeling on the sand supporting a sobbing Marika while Jordan and Ed were holding onto a furious Chantelle.
‘I want to know who she is,’ Chantelle demanded, ‘and what she’s doing here with you.’
Cat and Jodie stood watching the scene. Chantelle, like Jordan, was an overindulged brat.
Not only that, she tended to whine, which was exactly what she was doing right now.
Cat could see from the expression on Jordan’s face the sound was getting to him and soon he was going to lose it completely.
The whining stopped. Jodie shot Cat a relieved look only to shake her head in disbelief as Chantelle began to cry.
‘Tears,’ Cat whispered, leaning towards Jodie as the girl’s sobs grew louder. ‘The ultimate weapon.’ Jodie laughed.
‘Come here.’ As Ed let her go, Jordan tried to pull Chantelle into his embrace.
At first she punched his chest and tried to push him away then eventually gave in to more sobs.
Standing behind this emotional tableau, Spence and Daniel rolled their eyes, no doubt having witnessed the same scene many times before.
‘There was no need to slap her.’ Jordan smoothed her hair gently as she wept against his bare torso. ‘I was giving her a lift to the beach, she’s just a friend.’
Friend? Cat and Jodie exchanged amused glances. ‘Since when has Jordan Hunter had female friends?’ Jodie murmured. ‘His only connection to women is for sex. Friendship? It doesn’t happen.’
‘I didn’t slap her.’ Chantelle hiccupped. ‘I didn’t touch her. She … she just fell over. She must have tripped over something.’