Chapter One
“Back to the Future”
Autumn – Twelve Years Later…
Pulling into a space in the service station car park, Ellie retrieved her phone to scroll through any messages she may have missed while driving.
Nothing too pressing, other than a flurry of voice notes from the bride whose wedding Ellie was due to photograph shortly, and she emerged from the car to look around.
It was early afternoon in mid-September, but strangely quiet, and Ellie hurried through the doors into the service area in search of a hot drink. Barely had she taken a sip of coffee, however, when her phone rang.
Nicki.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ Ellie’s heart lifted. It was ages since she’d spent a decent amount of time with her cousin, and she looked forward to seeing her. At least, she’d be looking forward to it if it didn’t mean going back there , of all places.
‘I didn’t expect you to pick up. Wasn’t sure of your ETA. Hamish has gone for his pre-op appointment, so I wanted to let you know where the key is if I’m out. How’s the journey going?’
‘So far, it’s been great. I’ve stopped on the A30 for a caffeine infusion.’
A huff of laughter came from the phone. ‘That’s one long road, babes. Whereabouts?’
‘I’ve just passed Okehampton.’
‘Fab. You’re about an hour away.’
Oh God…
Ellie’s midriff clenched, a sensation she’d become accustomed to lately. Ever since, in fact, she’d found herself agreeing to return to Polkerran Point – a place she had vowed never to revisit.
‘Ellie? Hello? You there?’
‘Sorry.’ She gave her head a small shake. ‘Think I got on the road too early. What did you say?’
‘You’ll pass the “nearly home” trees soon. Well…’ Nicki paused. ‘I suppose to you they’ll be the “nearly there” trees, like they are for the pesky emmets.’
‘Don’t start going all Cornish on me,’ Ellie exclaimed before they ended the call.
She headed to the ladies’ before resuming the journey, but as she washed her hands, Ellie caught sight of her wary expression in the mirror. The stark overhead lights were unforgiving, leaving nowhere to hide.
Stop it , she cautioned silently, sticking her hands in the wall-mounted dryer, letting the loud droning blast away her anxiety. It’s not like he’s going to be there, is it? Besides, it ended years ago. Get over yourself .
The admonition did the trick, and Ellie sailed past the aforementioned trees blissfully unaware of them, too busy belting out the latest Sabrina Carpenter in accompaniment to the radio, her mind busy with the photoshoots she’d had to reschedule and hoping the fortnight she’d promised to Nicki would fly by so she could escape and return to the routine of daily life in Oxford.
By the time she’d left the A30 at Bodmin, however, it was harder to stall the free-falling memories, and as Ellie passed sign after sign bearing names she’d long relegated to the past – Lostwithiel, Lerryn and then Polwelyn – her shoulders began to stiffen.
When the car passed the entrance to the camping park where she’d stayed on her one and only foray to the area over twelve years ago, she stared rigidly ahead.
Once she’d driven down the winding hill into Polkerran Point, however, Ellie pulled up in a vacant space on the front, assailed by recollections she heartily wished she could toss into the depths of the harbour.
The quaint fishing village in September bore little resemblance to the place Ellie recalled.
The previous visit had taken place in the height of a deliciously warm summer, and the village had been bustling with families and seaside activities.
Today, there was a gentle, early autumn vibe, a suggestion that – now the schools were in session and visitors a mere trickle – life had resumed its lyrical out-of-season pattern.
Opposite the harbour, people enjoyed coffee and cakes outside a stylish restaurant Ellie didn’t recognise, the canopies pulled down low against the sun’s wistful rays.
Sinking onto a vacant bench, Ellie drew in a steadying breath before exhaling slowly.
So this is how it felt to be back. She’d wondered endlessly this last month, after Nicki’s cry for help, and speculation had done her no favours, merely stirred long-suppressed feelings, bringing a run of disturbed nights and a horribly reminiscent sense of loss on waking.
‘Wasson, shag?’
Ellie blinked, her gaze flicking to the elderly man who’d taken a perch at the other end of the bench, but to her relief, he was chuckling into his phone.
Time to find Nicki’s cottage.
Walking back to the car, Ellie paused for a moment, leaning on the harbour wall.
Whispers of thin cloud – less dense than up on the moors – clung to a dusty blue sky.
Water continuously slapped the stone steps by the moorings as boats bobbed against the jetty.
The rattle of sail lines mingled with the calls of seabirds circling over the trees on the far side of the water, and as her gaze drifted across the undulating expanse of blue towards the horizon, she could see the top of a lighthouse on a stretch of rocks pointing out to sea.
‘Beautiful,’ Ellie whispered, whipping out her phone and taking a burst of images.
Five minutes later, and she’d arrived in the driveway of a large house at the end of the lane bordering the quieter side of the bay. It wasn’t an area Ellie had explored much during that long-ago summer, and she looked around with interest. The gatepost bore a sign: Westerleigh Cottage .
Ellie stepped back into the lane as her cousin emerged from the much smaller property next door.
‘Thank goodness you’re here!’ Nicki squeezed Ellie into a hug. ‘It’s been too long. Loving the hair, by the way.’ She tugged one of the curls resting on her cousin’s shoulder. ‘And the colour.’
Ellie laughed as she followed Nicki inside. ‘I’m told it’s honey blonde, but it looks like weak coffee to me.’
Nicki and Hamish’s home – Little Cott – was adequate for them and their two growing boys, Liam and Jason, but there was no guest room.
Nicki’s close friend, Anna Seymour, who lived in Westerleigh Cottage – a property so large she used to run it as a B&B before her own babies came along – had offered Ellie a room during her short stay.
‘We are so grateful,’ Nicki gushed as she made mugs of tea and carried them out to the small, walled garden at the back of the cottage, Ellie following in her wake.
‘Hamish has been putting off this surgery for ages, but it’s got to the point where the pain is too much.’
‘How’s he feeling?’
Nicki shrugged before taking the seat opposite Ellie. It was a relatively mild day, but she wrapped her thick cardigan more firmly across her middle. The enclosed space at the rear of the cottage didn’t feel as though it ever got much sun.
‘He’s frustrated more than anything.’ She sent Ellie a rueful smile. ‘Not used to being inactive and fretting about the loss of income. We’ll just be glad when the op’s over.’
Ellie clasped her mug of tea. ‘It’s amazing back surgery these days means such a short stay in hospital. What was the plan you agreed on for when he’s out?’
‘He’s going to his parents on the north coast. They’ve got a bungalow, and we don’t even have a downstairs loo, never mind anywhere to shower or sleep. Hopefully, with the enforced rest and his planned physio, he’ll be back by the time you leave.’
‘He won’t be able to go back to work, though, will he?’
Hamish had long had a fishing boat moored in Polkerran Point. Much as he loved his job, it was strenuous, physical labour, and although the hours were erratic and weather dependent, it was still the family’s main source of income.
‘No.’ Nicki tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
‘It’ll be months before he can go out to sea again, but Jem – he’s the Harbourmaster – says there’s desk work in the office a few hours a week, and it’s not paid, but there’s always a need for someone on rota at the National Coastwatch weather station down in Polruan. ’
Knowing this period of time-out was coming, Nicki had managed to increase her hours at the Point Hotel, a smart residence at the top of the hill above Polkerran Point, where she worked in the hair and beauty salon.
It meant she needed to do weekend shifts and couldn’t always be around for the boys before or after school either.
‘What time will Liam and Jason be home?’
‘We’ve got a reprieve.’ Nicki grinned at Ellie. ‘I normally pick them up at three, but today’s a free-for-all music club, and they’ll be home about five. We take it in turns, so one of the other mums will drop them back here.’
They had a bit of a catch up, with Nicki dismissing any talk of what it was Ellie could help with to make life easier, assuring her it could wait.
‘You know I can only spare about a fortnight?’ Ellie cautioned. ‘I moved what I could, but I have to be in Oxfordshire for a wedding two weeks on Saturday.’
‘I know!’ Nicki beamed at her. ‘I’m just grateful to have you now.
The op is scheduled for Monday, so by the time you go, Hamish should be able to manage stairs, even if he’s not fully mobile.
Come on.’ She got to her feet. ‘Let’s go and get you settled next door.
Then you can come back and help me wrestle the duvets back into their covers. ’
‘How old are they?’ Ellie spoke quietly as she observed the two little ones snoozing in their respective portable cots beside one of the sofas in the gorgeous sitting room at Westerleigh Cottage.
‘Nine months.’ Anna, Nicki’s neighbour and friend, whispered, coming to stand beside her, sporting an apron bearing the words ‘Jam First’, her attractive features flushed with the heat of the oven and her wavy brown hair tied up in a ponytail, from which tendrils were escaping.
‘They are so sweet.’ Ellie’s heart swelled with delight.
They admired the sleeping babies for a few moments longer before quietly padding back to the kitchen island.