Chapter Fourteen
“The Beach”
Trying to pull herself together, Ellie glanced at Kate as she grasped the heavy iron ring set into the stone architrave and tugged.
The faint jangling of an old-fashioned bell could be heard through the thick wood of the door, and as the heavy door swung aside, Kate smiled warmly at a lady in a smart, grey dress, her salt-and-pepper hair tied in a neat bun.
‘Good morning, Kate. Mrs Tremayne is waiting for you in the office.’
‘Thank you, Norma.’
Ellie, her curiosity vying with her memories, followed Kate along a stone-flagged hallway, the walls adorned with portraits of long-gone Tremaynes.
‘Ah, Kate, come on in.’
They entered a room Ellie hadn’t seen before, and to her surprise, Kate walked over to the lady by the desk and gave her a warm hug. ‘How are you, Arabella?’
‘All the better for seeing your welcome face. I feel like I’ve been in solitary confinement.’ Mrs Tremayne turned to Ellie. ‘This must be your photographer friend.’
‘Yes, this is Ellie Arbon.’
They shook hands, and the lady continued. ‘I’ve been recovering from a nasty bout of flu, and visitors were banned. I’ve seen nothing but staff for a week.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear it,’ Ellie said with sympathy. ‘There are always such awful bugs going around at this time of year.’
She couldn’t help but reflect, however, glancing discreetly around the opulent room – a stunning library with a solitary desk by the window, which probably accounted for its demotion to the sad title of ‘office’ – that Mrs Tremayne’s version of solitary confinement might well have been more inaccurate than most.
They settled on a couple of sofas, an elegant low table between them, and as if by magic a young man appeared bearing a tray of tea things.
Feeling as though she’d somehow stepped into an episode of Downton Abbey , Ellie half expected an elderly butler to emerge from the woodwork, offering to pour for them.
As they sipped weak tea from fine china cups, Mrs Tremayne explained – with occasional interjections from Kate – how her son, Alex, now managed Tremayne Estates, which included the family home.
Ellie tried not to react at yet another mention of Alex.
‘My son is based in London,’ the lady continued, pride evident in her voice. ‘He therefore prefers to have a local team here running things, but he’s very commercially focused, being such a successful financier.’
‘I’ve reduced my hours at the hotel recently so that I can oversee the implementation of a new scheme,’ Kate continued. ‘The manor will soon be licensed for ceremonies. One of the outbuildings is currently under conversion into a beautiful, barn-style space for receptions and other celebrations.’
A slightly disapproving look had settled on Mrs Tremayne’s features.
‘I am not entirely comfortable with the notion, but Alex says we must make the house pay its way if we are to continue to keep it. However,’ she brightened, ‘thanks to Kate, who ran a vastly successful village fayre in our grounds the last two summers, there has been a compromise. Alex has agreed I may occasionally allow the grounds to be used gratis for community events.’
‘That’s lovely,’ Ellie enthused, not entirely sure where this was going.
Kate leaned forward. ‘Perhaps mention to Ellie the idea you had, Arabella? It makes perfect sense.’
‘Yes, of course.’ The lady turned to Ellie, her expression more engaged.
‘I saw your beautiful photos, and I wondered if you had time to come here and take the pictures for our launch. We would need a full brochure, covering weddings, of course, but also other things we can offer, such as business gatherings, family celebrations and so on.’
Her imagination quickly fired, Ellie nodded eagerly. ‘I’d be delighted. I have done brochure work before, and I’d be happy to send you some samples.’
‘Excellent.’ Mrs Tremayne turned to Kate. ‘Would you ring the bell, Kate, to save me getting up? I think this calls for more tea as we discuss the details.’
It was an hour later before they emerged back into the daylight, and as they walked down into the village, Ellie’s mind spun on the conversation. Then, her brow furrowed.
‘Wait, how long has Mrs Tremayne been widowed?’
To her surprise, Kate laughed. ‘She isn’t. I’ve discovered she always speaks as though she’s alone. They seem to live totally separate lives. Laurence is a keen golfer and spends weeks on end away having fun on various courses.’
‘Oh!’ Ellie grinned at Kate as they reached the harbour. ‘Good job I didn’t say anything, then.’
It was relatively quiet at this time of the morning, aside from the drone of an electric street cleaner trundling along the front and a few shouts from a fishing vessel moored in the harbour.
A couple sat outside Karma as they passed, enjoying the final days of mild temperatures as they indulged in coffee and cake and, inhaling the pleasing aroma of freshly baked goods, Ellie made a mental note to pick something up before heading home.
They settled on a vacant bench by the water.
‘What do you think?’ Kate crossed her legs, shod in elegant dog-tooth patterned trousers, and Ellie briefly admired her stylish designer pumps before shifting round to face her.
‘It was lovely of you to suggest my services to Mrs Tremayne. Are you sure she’s not just being kind?’
An impish smile appeared. ‘Not at all. Arabella’s not the most clued-in person, but she’s started to come into her own this last year.
Besides, we need a high-calibre photographer.
Interiors and exteriors. Bridal and celebration mock-ups and so on.
It will be invaluable with the marketing we need to do.
In reality, Mrs Tremayne needs Alex’s sign-off on any hiring, but not when it’s ad hoc like this. ’
‘It would help massively,’ Ellie beamed.
‘I’ll send you the details.’ Kate smiled at Ellie’s evident enthusiasm. ‘You can do the promo shots for the scarecrow festival too. Shame they dropped plans for an Oktoberfest.’
‘In Cornwall ?’
Kate merely laughed, waving a hand as she turned for home, and Ellie speeded up as she crossed the bridge. She had a video call in a half-hour to talk through some invitations with a prospective client and needed to get her head back into the proposed designs.
Fetching up outside Westerleigh, she rummaged for her keys, her head a jumble of scarecrows and vast tankards of beer. Surely Old Patrick hadn’t been planning to don some lederhosen?
With a huffed laugh, Ellie let herself in.
This was the cove. Anything could happen!
The days spiralled through October, much as the leaves eddied and swirled, falling from the fond grasp of the trees that had nurtured them since the spring until they were embraced by the crisp and golden bed below.
With half-term rapidly approaching, Ellie finalised the details for the first mini-session, which was due to take place during the holidays, relieved to see the second date now almost full.
Nicki was busy with her parents’ imminent arrival, doing a major deep clean with Ellie’s help and chivvying the boys to finish their scarecrow. Their grandparents had opted to do something similar to Nicki’s in-laws and had booked a few nights in a cottage near Hamish.
Busy with continuing her before- and after-school duties, Ellie applied herself to finishing the photography commission for Marcus, who insisted on making a date to have dinner as a thank-you, despite his already having settled her invoice.
There was also a one-off job for a connection of Valerie at the tourist office.
She spent every spare moment outside of that up at Tremayne Manor, haunted at every corner by memories of long ago, but determined to erase them with new ones.
The scarecrow festival was due to take place on the last weekend of the autumn half-term break for the local schools, which would also bring in a welcome – from the traders’ perspective, at least – return of emmet families intent on a break before winter descended.
Nicki’s parents soon arrived – greeting their niece, Ellie, warmly and gushing with thanks for all she was doing to help out – and a day later, they all headed off to the cottage in Devon.
She had the first mini-shoot coming up, and the scarecrows to photograph for the local paper.
Thankful she had seen nothing of Will for a week, other than a few glimpses from a distance, Ellie looked forward to the festival, reassured that, despite his offering a prize, the man himself was unlikely to be in attendance.
But before that, she had the dinner with Marcus.
Walking into the centre of Polkerran, Ellie found herself to be early.
All the shops had closed for the night, other than the Spar, but there were plenty of people about, many of whom she could tell were visitors.
There were groups of people outside the Three Fishes opposite the harbour, which was likewise busy, and all the benches were filled, mainly with those tucking into their takeaways from the fish and chip shop.
A queue had formed beside the steps, waiting for the last passenger ferry across to the other side of the bay, and the little red boat could be seen chugging its way towards them.
Children shouted and squealed down on the tiny expanse of sand which exposed itself at low tide, and sea birds hovered overhead as a fishing boat approached.
‘Hello, Ryther. I didn’t expect to see you down here in the evening.’ Ellie took a seat beside the elderly gentleman on a bench looking out across the water towards where the sea rolled into the bay.
‘I am waiting on my grandson. He’s in there with Theo.’ He pointed towards Thai Dai. ‘We’re having a takeaway for supper as a treat.’
They chatted amiably for a few minutes, but then Ryther shifted in his seat, his keen blue eyes raking Ellie’s face.
‘Anna says you came here many years ago?’
‘Yes. Had an amazing summer after graduating. Far too much fun to ever be the same again. Not sure I’ll ever quite get over it.’