Chapter 12
TWELVE
The faded sign of the Winking Pilchard, a cartoonish silver fish with one eye cheekily closed, swayed gently in the breeze.
On calm evenings, the pub’s bench-lined terrace would fill with locals and visitors alike, pints in hand, waiting for the sun to drop below the horizon and another day to reach its final chapter.
On stormy days, it was the place to hunker down, listen to the wind whip against the stone, and tell stories that grew taller with every round.
As with a lot of the now few and far between old-fashioned hostelries, the Winking Pilchard was more than just a pub; it was a compass point in the lives of the Seahaven Bay folk.
And nestled at the harbour’s edge, it marked the perfect boundary between land, sea, and all the magic in between.
As the landlord gave Rita a huge, welcoming smile, the familiar scent of woodsmoke hit her like a wave, stirring a rush of nostalgia that caught her off guard and causing her breath to hitch.
It was only the second time she’d set foot in the pub since Archie’s wake, and the warmth of the place, once so comforting, now felt bittersweet.
She hesitated, emotions teetering, until a sudden flurry of floral fabric and jangling bangles swept in behind her.
‘Honestly, Reet,’ puffed Kelly, brushing wind-blown hair from her face. ‘That was not my kind of hill, in these heels.’ She shivered. ‘I can’t believe it’s April and so bleeding cold.’
‘I did tell you to wear your trainers… and a coat.’
‘You said we were going out, out.’
Rita laughed and smiled warmly at the landlord. ‘You all right, Pete; you remember Kelly?’
Pete ‘the Pilchard’ Perkins slid two large glasses of cold French Sauvignon Blanc over the worn bar without a word. He knew their orders already. He knew everything.
‘I never forget a face, you know me, and can I say, young Kelly, that you look as fit as a bargee’s ferret this evening,’ the strong Cornish accent conveyed. ‘And these are on me.’ He winked.
Kelly guffawed. ‘I’ll take it, whatever it is, I’ll take it.’
‘Never trust a man with mutton-chop sideburns,’ Rita quipped.
The landlord’s ample stomach wobbled. ‘Oi! I’ll have you know they’ve won competitions, these ’ave.’
‘Cheers, Pete,’ Rita said as she and Kelly laughed in unison.
They settled into what had been Rita and Archie’s favourite corner booth, the one tucked just under the crooked window that looked out to the harbour, its glass slightly misted from years of salty sea air.
A few regulars nearby raised their glasses in a friendly toast, their faces flushed from the warmth of good company.
Kelly squeezed Rita’s hand. ‘So, I don’t want any of your many brave faces tonight. I want to know exactly how you are?’
Rita took a large glug of wine. ‘I know it’s been a while now, but it… everything still feels… off, you know. Like he’s going to walk back in with muddy boots and a list of jobs I haven’t done.’
‘You were with him twenty-five years, darling.’
‘I know, an age. And I still can’t talk about the accident or anything about him with the kids, I just can’t, and Sennen wants me to. Meanwhile, Thom hates me. I’m sure he thinks it was my fault. It’s so hard.’ Tears filled Rita’s eyes.
‘It was an accident. A freak fucking accident, and it wasn’t your fault. And you must hold on to the fact that the investigating officer said he wouldn’t have suffered. That it would have been quick.’
‘But he was angry when he left, Kel,’ Rita said quietly. ‘He was bashing things around, in a right boot-stomping mood and what if he was angry because of something I’d done to annoy him, and I just didn’t realise what.’
Kelly rested her hand on top of her friend’s.
‘We’ve been through this a million times, Reet.
That coast road is fast; the drop is steep.
Archie was at the wheel, not you. The type of relationship you had, you’d have known if it was you who’d upset him.
And you can’t live in the “what ifs”, because that makes a slow death for yourself. ’
‘Sometimes I feel maybe I didn’t know him at all.’
‘Because of the debt, you mean?’
Rita took a huge noisy breath and nodded. ‘I just don’t get it. On the statements are cash withdrawals mainly, and you know what interest is like on these things. I’m living on credit cards – luckily ones that still have a bit of credit on them.’
Kelly nodded and took a drink. ‘What exactly was he spending the money on; have you any idea?’
‘Nope, not a scooby.’ Rita sighed deeply. ‘I realise now why he put that post box on the gate. So I never got wind of the new cards he’d applied for in both of our names!’
‘Oh, Reet. Thank God you sold the cows and the tractor then.’
‘Yes, I still feel such guilt for that, but I’m sure Jago Jenken paid over the odds, you know, so at least Archie’s credit cards are paid off now.’
‘Why would a Jenken do you a favour?’
Rita shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’ She chewed her lip. ‘I flirted with him the other day. And, well… I enjoyed it. How bad is that!’
Kelly laughed softly. ‘Reet, there’s no harm in that. Grief doesn’t come with a timetable. Doesn’t check when it’s OK to move on.’
Rita groaned, covering her face with her hands. ‘Oh God… I’d never take it any further. Not a chance. Hilda would kill me for one.’
Kelly nudged her shoulder. ‘Relax, you’re allowed a little harmless flirt now and then. I have a world record for it.’
Rita smirked despite herself. ‘I don’t think Archie would’ve been impressed if he’d caught me daydreaming about Jago Jenken in nothing but his work boots.’
Kelly’s grin was pure sauciness. ‘Let’s just sit with that thought for a moment, shall we?’
Their eyes drifted to the hearth, where a fiddle player was tuning up, the first notes of a catchy sea shanty cutting into their conversation.
‘This music reminds me of the night we met Archie.’ Rita shook her head.
‘Oh yeah.’ Kelly’s eyes brightened. ‘If I’d have agreed to Pete the Pilch’s suggestion then my life story could have been a very different one.’
‘I’m not sure some of it was even legal.’ Rita snorted. Once she had stopped laughing, she put her hand on top of her friend’s. ‘That’s better. I needed to forget my woes for a bit. Anyway, tell me. What’s going on in fancy London, then?’
‘What isn’t going on is mine and Ron’s sex life.
He only brings out the meat and two veg for birthdays, anniversaries, maybe Christmas if I’m lucky, now.
I told him I was going away for a few days, and he barely looked up from his Sudoku.
I’m forty-five, and like you, not over the hill.
In fact, my winking pilchard is constantly wet and ready for action. ’
Rita nearly fell off her chair laughing. ‘Oh my God, Kel, that is vile and hilarious in equal measure.’ Her old London twang was suddenly overriding her muted Cornish one.
Kel wasn’t finished. ‘I didn’t marry a man for warm cups of tea and reruns of Antiques Roadshow. I need a bit of… well, life!’ She stood up. ‘Another drink?’
Rita sat lost in thought, listening to the fiddler playing as Kelly ordered their drinks and then shimmied back with two large glasses of Sauvignon Blanc.
‘There is something else.’ Rita’s face was serious.
Kelly leaned into her friend. ‘Go on.’
‘The other day Hilda insinuated that maybe Archie had written a will. I’d never thought to look because as far as I knew he hadn’t made one. So, I searched everywhere I thought it might be, but nothing. Then I called our family solicitor, who said there was one and it had gone missing.’
Kelly was wide eyed. ‘What the fuck?’
Rita grimaced. ‘I know. It’s hurting my soul.’
‘I’d be hurting the solicitor if he doesn’t get to the bottom of it.’
‘I know, I know but my trust for Archie was our golden bind.’
Kelly raised an eyebrow. ‘Wasn’t it the great Bard who said, “All that glisters is not gold”?’
‘Blimey, Kel. I thought you hated English Lit.’
Kelly shrugged. ‘I did, until that hot young English teacher started when we were in Year Eleven. Remember. Mr Hayes, wasn’t it? I’d have been his Juliet anytime.’ She took a large swig of wine. ‘Oh God, thinking of him, I so need a shag.’
They both laughed again, and Rita felt her tension loosening.
‘Look’ – Kel’s voice was full of care – ‘there will be an explanation. Archie was a good man. He loved you, Rita. If I mysteriously disappeared tomorrow, Ron wouldn’t even notice.
Maybe I’ll come and live down here with you.
Help with the retreat. Read crystals and pretend to know what “retrograde” means. ’
‘You’d terrify the guests,’ Rita said, smiling. ‘But I’d love that.’
Kelly raised her glass in an impromptu toast. Rita followed as her friend announced, ‘To Ron’s vanishing libido, Archie’s vanishing will, and most importantly, to the Seahaven Bay Retreat.’
Rita grinned and they both said in unison, ‘The Seahaven Bay Retreat.’