Chapter One #2
‘They’re less so at two in the morning. Bertie sleeps like a log now, but Emma is clearly going to be a party girl. She’s always ready for a play, and her brother is already channelling his inner teen and does not like being woken up.’
Ellie laughed. ‘Sounds like me and my sister back in the day. It’s very kind of you to do dinner tonight.’
Anna placed a large casserole dish in the oven, then tossed her oven gloves onto the kitchen island. ‘I love cooking, and it’s ages since we’ve had people round. Nicki and Hamish need a bit of a break, too.’
‘I’m so grateful to you, letting me stay in that beautiful room.’ Ellie waved a hand towards the ceiling, but Anna shook her head.
‘Nicki’s always been such a supportive friend – it’s the least we could do.
’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I’m glad you like the room.
It used to be ours, but we moved down from the top floor once the twins arrived so we could be near at hand.
The timing’s perfect too, as a few weeks after you go home, we’re off to the States.
My best mate, Lauren, lives there, and she’s getting married. ’
They chatted a little about the challenge of a transatlantic flight with the babies, but once she was assured there was nothing she could do to help with the dinner prep, Ellie headed back to Little Cott to find Hamish returned, as well as the boys.
She played a frenetic game of Angry Birds with Liam and Jason and tried not to allow the slowly emerging memories any purchase.
At least staying at Westerleigh – with its stunning views and its luxurious bedroom – was a far cry from the single bed in the shared caravan, and it was only for a fortnight, not a couple of months, like last time.
And he’s not here, either…
Back round at Westerleigh, with everyone fed and the boys happily absorbed in the snug, Anna’s husband, Oliver – a renowned social historian and author – opened another bottle of wine while his wife went upstairs to check on the twins.
The sitting area, despite its open-plan nature, was utterly cosy, with comfy-looking sofas and a low coffee table bearing a neat pile of bibs and a cute cuddly rabbit on top of a stack of books.
There were a couple of sturdy wingback chairs either side of a striking hearth, clearly more suited to Oliver, who was not only extremely tall but broad of shoulder, too.
Ellie was delighted when a black cat jumped onto her lap, and she rubbed it under its chin, drawing a responsive purr.
Oliver grunted. ‘Heathcliff’s nose has been a bit out of joint since the twins arrived. She’ll love you forever if you make a fuss of her.’
The conversation drifted between Hamish’s convalescence plan and the progress of Oliver’s latest book – a non-fiction historical series aimed at school-age children – and before long, Anna returned from upstairs.
‘That was a gorgeous meal, Anna,’ Ellie enthused. ‘And I swear clotted cream always tastes better in Cornwall!’
‘It’s my downfall, too,’ Nicki said. ‘It goes surprisingly well with pumpkin pie, and Anna makes a corker.’
Surprised, Ellie looked to their host. ‘I thought that was mainly an American thing.’
‘Probably, but we always have so much to spare after the annual pumpkin trail, it seemed a shame to waste it, so I’ve been experimenting over the years.’
A small sound came from Oliver, and his arm stalled in mid-air as he raised his glass to his lips.
‘What?’
Anna smirked. ‘Oliver is my guinea pig. He never quite got over the pumpkin pancakes.’
‘It wasn’t as bad as the pumpkin-spiced granola you put on the table the next morning,’ Oliver retorted, but his keen blue eyes held a warmth for his wife alone, and Ellie exchanged an amused look with Nicki.
‘So what’s the trail?’ Ellie asked, cradling her glass in both hands.
‘Carved pumpkins all around the cove. And local craft makers displaying their pumpkin-themed products, from food to art to clay or wood. Phee – she’s a local artist, watercolours – does a map, which the book shop sells for a couple of pounds, all proceeds to the village school.’
‘The local businesses all chip in prizes,’ Hamish added. ‘It’s a lot of fun.’
‘Wow. I’d assumed it would be pretty quiet at this time of year.’
Anna’s eyes lit up. ‘Never a dull moment in the cove! There’s a scarecrow festival next, and then Hallowe’en, followed by Bonfire Night. It helps bring trade into the village either side of half-term.’
‘And that’s all before the circus comes to town next spring,’ Oliver mused as he stretched his long legs out in front of the hearth.
‘Really?’ Ellie blinked. ‘Where on earth will there be room for that?’
Anna chuckled. ‘Can you imagine? Lions and tigers in the cove?’
Oliver made a small sound. ‘More likely to be peacocks and clowns with this lot.’
Nicki grinned at Ellie. ‘It’s all local chit-chat so far. Alex Tremayne – do you remember him? He took over running the family estate last year. We all thought there’d be little change, to be honest.’
Ellie’s skin went cold. How could she ever forget that name?
‘Alex is known to not be fond of the cove,’ Anna interjected. ‘He’s a city man, through and through.’
‘And they’re welcome to reclaim him whenever they wish.’ There was steel in Oliver’s voice, but Ellie’s skin tingled as the past moved stealthily towards her.
‘So what’s the gossip?’
‘A big rumour about a documentary filming early next year, down the coast beyond Fowey,’ Hamish explained. ‘Tremayne is allegedly keen for some sort of involvement for Polkerran. Lord knows why.’
Ellie’s shoulders stiffened. Alex Tremayne… Will’s housemate back then, the whole reason he’d been in Cornwall… and the man who’d ultimately ended all her hopes and dreams.