Cara reaches the rocky promontory almost at the cliff edge and edges her way carefully around the rock face. As always, she stops and takes a moment to marvel at the view. However many times she sees it, it always takes her breath away. Thirty feet below, two fat gulls sit on The Lookout’s ridge tiles. Her eyes skim over the half-dozen assorted properties skirting the cove, which, today, is a kaleidoscope of colours from summer visitors’ beach paraphernalia. At the far end is Janine’s Coffee Shop & Café, its car park full of cars shimmering under the heat of a midday sun. Her gaze continues on, taking in the south coast of Cornwall spread out like an enormous 3D map and stretching away into the distance. Easy to see is the impressive Loe Bar, dividing the sea from a freshwater lake that sparkles in the sunshine. At its far end, next to Porthleven’s pier and harbour entrance, the tower of the town’s most recognisable building, the Bickford Smith Institute, stands seventy feet high. Beyond this is Praa Sands, Prussia Cove and Mounts Bay, where the tip of iconic St Michael’s Mount can be clearly seen rising out of the water, then sweeping on past Penzance and Newlyn to the cliffs at Porthcurno. And in the far distance, Gwennap Head.
‘The edge of the world,’ she says quietly to herself.
Was it only two years ago she first stood here with Oliver, sharing her special place with him? So much has happened since. She feels a different person from the one he knew then. Cara sits on the flat rock where she has sat a thousand times before and stretches out her legs. Leaning back against the cliff face, she closes her eyes and tilts her face to the sun; its warmth comforting as it caresses her skin. Breathing in deeply, she allows the sounds of the cove to wash over her and quieten her clamouring heart.
It was such a shock seeing Oliver at the private viewing. It was almost her undoing. She was under such pressure from Greg to perform while maintaining a cool exterior. Constantly aware of wherever Greg was in the room and his critical assessment of her, she was unable to act naturally with Oliver. Cara smiles sadly. He looked so handsome standing there. Older – she immediately noticed an extra smattering of silver at his temples that wasn’t there before – but this only added to his allure. Struck mute, she behaved abominably, but he graciously included her in his conversations. What must he think of her? No doubt, as soon as he left the gallery he patted himself on the back for having made the right decision remaining with his family. A tear slides down her cheek and, brusquely, she wipes it away. Cara opens her eyes. It’s not only Oliver who has made the correct decision; she, too, has done the right thing in keeping him from their life. It’s best that Toby never knows only a part-time father, and it’s certainly right for Beth and Sky, having already coped with so much sadness in their short lives. No, she is stronger on her own, relying on her instincts, and now she has the ability to make money. Even though it’s so hard at times, she knows she doesn’t need anybody; she can cope. But… she yearns for a loving hug and a good heart to share this life with.
Cara stares at the ocean. The air is alive with seabirds and she searches for signs of other wildlife – a pod of dolphins, or maybe seals and basking sharks. But nothing breaks the surface of the turquoise sea. The breeze snatches at her hair and she turns slightly, holding it out of her face. She always comes up here when she feels desperate, and in the past the natural surroundings have always reinstated her equilibrium. But, today, her heart remains heavy and her mind gives her no peace as she searches for release from the pressure Greg has piled upon her. She plucks a leaf from a clump of sea pinks growing at the side of the rock and distractedly laces it through her fingers. She cannot rip her children from all this. He’s mad if he thinks she could! Since presenting her with the air tickets for her family, he’s carefully and consistently applied subtle pressure, reminding her of the commitment he’s made in buying them. All he asks in return is that she uses them. Cara frowns. All! But is she panicking about nothing? After all, children are resilient. It’s not as if Greg is offering a lesser life – just a different one. It’s so complicated and she doesn’t want to think about it, but she must. Unknowingly, Cara chews her cheek. If only Christo hadn’t died. Angrily, she grabs her hair and twists it into a knot at her nape. No use thinking like that. He did! If only Oliver hadn’t returned to his wife and family. No use thinking like that either. He has! Stop looking for others to blame, she silently admonishes herself. This is your dilemma and only you can work it out.
What of Greg? He’s made it perfectly clear what he wants from her. Yes, he’s attractive, but she can’t imagine being intimate with him. So what is it that they have? It’s certainly not love, at least not on her part. It’s more of a professional respect, but maybe she owes it to herself to see if it could develop into something more. Cara frowns again. With Christo it was young love and an unquestioning belief of growing old together; with Oliver it was a mature meeting of heart and soul.
A small, brightly coloured sailboat edges its way around the headland, setting a course for the cove. She watches its progress as it comes into shore. A bare-chested lad wearing only shorts jumps out and pulls the boat onto the sand. A dark-haired girl in a bikini sits in the stern. He kisses her before running up the beach towards the café. She and Christo used to do just that, taking either a boat or a kayak and visiting beaches inaccessible by land. Cara places a hand on her breast, easing the longing in her heart. She yearns for that simpler time when it never occurred to either of them that anyone, or anything, would threaten their idyll. The young golden boy and his equally golden girl knew they would be together until the end of time. Only God was aware of a different plan.
Cara watches as the lad emerges from the café holding an open box overflowing with bottles and food. He walks quickly down the beach to his waiting girlfriend and passes the box to her. Then, pushing the boat off the sand and out into the shallows, he swings his leg easily over the side and climbs aboard. Kissing the girl once again, he takes the tiller and guides the boat out to sea.
Cara’s eyes follow the boat until the last glimpse of sail disappears around the headland. She envies the young couple their freedom, remembering her own carefree days and being so in love. But that was then. She can procrastinate no longer. She has to make a decision about the opportunities available to her now. Sighing deeply, Cara rises to her feet. She knows what she has to do.