Chapter 31
Charlie answers a call from Kate as we’re going through his front door the following morning.
‘I’ve been calling the landline,’ I hear her say. ‘Your mobile was going straight to voicemail.’ I can tell she sounds accusatory, even from where I’m standing.
‘I’ve been out,’ he says. ‘April and I have just got back.’
I wonder what Nicki’s sister would say if he told her he’d stayed the night at my campsite. I have a feeling it wouldn’t go down too well.
Fay has chased me for a detailed synopsis. She wants to check over my ideas before I start tackling the sequel in earnest, so I spend most of the day trying to gather my thoughts together from yesterday. By the time five o’clock rolls around, I feel exhausted both emotionally and physically.
‘I don’t know how I’m going to stay awake waiting for Marty,’ I say as I’m getting ready to leave.
‘Where’s she going to sleep?’ Charlie asks. ‘Tent?’
‘God, no, Marty’s as much cut out for Tent Life as I am. I’m going to make up the bed in the roof space. She’s a short-arse, she can sleep up there.’
He looks amused at my description.
‘Sorry I’ve been so out of it today,’ I say. In fact, we’ve both been very subdued. ‘I’ll be back to my perky self by Monday, I promise.’
‘Are we not seeing you tomorrow?’
‘Of course! I almost forgot. Are you still up for that?’
‘If that’s cool with you,’ he replies.
‘Where can we go for a nice cream tea?’ I ask, hooking my rucksack over my shoulder.
‘I know a good place that you can walk to from the beach. The weather’s supposed to be nice. You could hang out there and go swimming, if you wanted to.’
‘Ooh, yeah, that sounds great.’
‘Have you got a sec for me to show you where it is on a map?’
‘Sure.’
He returns a moment later, unfolding a map as he goes.
‘This is Harbour Cove.’ He presses the map up against the hallway wall. ‘You can park up here and walk down this track to the beach.’ He traces his forefinger across the image. ‘The tide will be out, so you’ll be able to walk across the sand to steps here at Hawker’s Cove, where the old lifeboat station is, and then along this path to the teashop. Otherwise there’s a path up here.’ I follow the direction of his finger across the green coastal path. He’s standing so close, I can feel the warmth of his body heat beside me. I experience a flashback to lying in his arms last night and feel a prickle of what feels a lot like guilt.
‘What’s the teashop called?’ I ask, stepping away to put some distance between us.
‘I think it’s called Rest a While or something. They do nice lunches and cream teas with amazing sea views.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘Shall I meet you there at about three?’
‘Or on the beach if you can come earlier?’
‘Unlikely. I’m catching up with some friends in the morning.’
‘Are you all right?’ I ask him suddenly. He really has been extraordinarily quiet today.
‘Yeah.’ He folds the map and hands it over. ‘You can take that.’
I look at him with concern. After a moment he meets my eyes.
‘I’m fine,’ he says softly. ‘Nicki’s been on my mind a lot today.’
‘I’m sorry. Good days and bad days?’
‘Exactly,’ he replies heavily. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’
I take the hint and leave. He’s not in the mood to talk. All my shit from last night probably wiped him out. I feel another stab of what is definitely guilt and resolve to cheer myself up by tomorrow.
I am knackered that evening. I get Marty’s roof-space bed ready for her, but it’s almost one a.m. by the time she arrives. I explained in detail where she could find me – for someone who’s a travel agent, she is exceptionally bad at geography and directions – but I’m asleep when she gets here, and it’s only her knocking on the window that rouses me. Thankfully, she’s as shattered as I am, so she’s happy to change into her PJs and go straight to bed.
We both sleep in the next morning, but when I wake up I feel a bubble of excitement.
She’s here! My friend is here!
I crawl across the bed and hunchback-creep under the now-low, flat ceiling until I come out in the standing area between the two front seats. I straighten up and turn around, ready to see my pal’s friendly face.
She’s twisted into a bizarre shape, her legs and arms all caught up in the sheet and blankets. Her mouth is wide open and her dark hair looks matted and crazy. Her new tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses are perched on the ledge above the driver’s seat – she always looks odd without her glasses on. I giggle and stare at her for a long moment, then remember that she’s like a bear with a sore head if anyone wakes her up before she’s ready, so I get on with making us coffee. I’m reading in bed when she finally comes to.
‘What the— Bridget?’ she asks in a muffled voice.
‘I’m here,’ I reply with a giggle, crawling back across my bed. Her upside-down head appears from over the edge of the roof space, her dark hair falling crazily around her face like something out of The Exorcist.
‘Fuck, you’re scary.’ I reel backwards, flinching.
She grins. ‘Do I smell coffee?’
‘You do indeed. But yours has gone a bit cold.’
‘Give it,’ she says, waggling her hands at me.
‘Come down,’ I reply.
‘How do I do this?’ She scrutinises the area between the front seats.
‘Climb onto the driver’s headrest, then onto the armrest. Careful, though.’
I try not to laugh as she manhandles her way down to my level, ducking her head under the low ceiling.
I edge backwards into my bed and move the covers so she can sit at the end and pull them back over herself.
‘This is cosy,’ she says with a touch of sarcasm, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘Yuck.’ She pulls a face.
‘I’ll make you another one.’ I smile. I am so happy she’s here.
We sit and chat for ages about what we’ve both been up to. She’s somewhat surprised to hear that Charlie and April will be joining us today, but she shrugs and accepts it.
‘I want to meet this “highly shaggable” person,’ she says, raising one eyebrow at me.
‘Urgh, stop it. He’s lovely,’ I say sincerely. ‘I feel bad for talking about him as if he were a piece of meat.’
She looks tickled. ‘Nevertheless, I can’t wait to check him out.’
Luckily, Marty is driving, so I don’t have to rely on her seriously useless map-reading skills when we set off to the beach later that morning. It’s a bit of a trek from the car park, so it’s not that surprising to find that the long, sandy stretch of beach at the bottom of the track is far from crowded.
The beach faces the mouth of the Camel Estuary and is backed by sand dunes, so it’s sheltered from the wind. The tide is still on its way out as we arrive and there are children and dogs alike playing in the shallows.
Every time I visit a place that could become a potential location for a scene in Confessions, I do some research, so I know that at low tide the sand here stretches over a mile and a half and is called the Doom Bar – the curse of mariners for centuries. Over six hundred ships have hit the sandbar since records began in the early 1800s.
It’s a hot, sunny day – one of the hottest days since I’ve been here – and ideal for the beach. Marty and I lay out towels and undress down to our swimming costumes, slathering on sunscreen and sunbathing as we used to on holidays years ago. We brought a light lunch to see us by, but at around two o’clock I find myself sitting up and paying more attention to the people on the beach. There’s always the chance that Charlie changed his mind.
At two thirty-five, I nudge Marty, feeling twitchy. ‘Time to go,’ I prompt, standing up and pulling on my skirt.
We walk beside the low cliff edge, dodging boulders and children clambering over the rock pools, until we reach a small, sandy beach. Then we climb up past the old lifeboat station and a row of coastguard houses, winding our way along the track until we come to another row of terraced houses. The gentle clinking of cutlery and cups on saucers mingles with the sound of our feet crunching up the pebbled footpath as the tearoom appears. It’s actually an outdoor cafe that’s situated in one of the gardens belonging to the houses, and there’s a serving hole in the wall that opens onto the kitchen. There aren’t many tables, so it takes me only seconds to determine who’s missing.
‘Charlie’s not here yet,’ I note with disappointment. A girl at one of the nearby tables tells us that she and her boyfriend are just finishing up, so we wait off to one side. I absentmindedly search the path.
We’re early.
And Charlie and April are late. By the time they arrive, the table has become free and we’ve almost finished the cold drinks we ordered to see us by.
‘Sorry we’re late,’ Charlie says, pushing through the gate with April in the baby carrier on his back. I leap up from my seat.
‘Hello!’ I exclaim, squeezing his arm in greeting.
‘Hey,’ he replies warmly, smiling at me as he unclips the backpack. I go around to help take some of the weight of the baby carrier as he lowers it to the ground, the muscles on his arms flexing. He unclips April’s harness and I lift her out while he holds the backpack steady, then I carry her with me to the table.
‘Marty, this is April.’ I smile at my friend as I rest April on my hip. ‘And this is Charlie.’ I glance at him, feeling peculiarly proud.
He leans in to shake Marty’s hand. ‘Hi.’
Yep, she thinks he’s hot, too.
‘Have you guys ordered?’ Charlie’s eyes rove between us.
‘No, we’ve been holding off. I’ll come up with you.’
‘What are you going to have?’ he asks me as he scans a menu over by the serving hole.
‘Cream tea.’
‘Me too.’ He rests his elbows on the counter as he places the order for all of us, but I insist on paying.
‘Thank you,’ he says to me as we turn away, touching the small of my back.
Marty is still watching us and her face is becoming more perplexed by the minute.
‘How was your drive last night?’ Charlie asks her politely, settling down beside me.
I sit April on my knee and entertain her while Charlie and Marty make courteous small talk.
The view from up here is stunning. The tide is so far out that the sand bank down below in the bay is enormous. It looks like you could almost walk across to Daymer Bay Beach on the other side of the Camel River, but I’m sure the water is deeper than it looks. There’s lush green coast over there, and a big white house surrounded by trees. I wonder who lives in it.
‘What have you got planned for the rest of the day?’ Charlie shifts his body so he’s facing me.
‘I think it might have to be Rick Stein’s tonight. You up for that?’ I ask Marty.
‘Sure,’ she replies, nodding.
‘Maybe we could eat along the Camel Trail and watch the tide come in.’
‘Have you been to the beach at Padstow yet?’ Charlie asks.
‘I haven’t, actually. Is it nice?’
‘It’s great. You could take a bottle and watch the sunset. Your fish and chips might be a bit cold by the time you arrive, though. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk.’
‘How do you get there?’
‘You head up the hill past the harbour.’
‘I love the sound of that. Will you guys join us?’ I ask him hopefully, pressing April’s nose and making a ‘beep’ sound. She giggles.
‘Uh, no, we could probably do with a quiet one.’
I try not to show how flat his response makes me feel.
April takes her hat off, but I tell her no, pulling it firmly back into place. The sun is beating down with unusual force today.
‘Do you think we should drag that umbrella over and put it up?’ I ask Charlie, spying a huge one on a heavy-looking base a few metres away.
‘She’s got loads of sunscreen on,’ he replies. ‘But I will do if we’re here for much longer.’
The sun’s rays are making his dark-blond hair look more golden than usual. It’s lightened in colour since the start of the summer.
The waitress appears with our cream teas, so we all get stuck in.
‘Okay, what was that?’ Marty demands to know as soon as we’re back in her car.
‘What was what?’ I ask innocently.
‘You. Him. The baby.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You were like a proper little family!’ she exclaims.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I berate her, pointing at the ignition. Come on, let’s go.
‘I’m not having a dig,’ she says. ‘He’s gorgeous. April’s sweet, too.’
‘Oh, stop,’ I wave her away nervily as she starts up the car. ‘Don’t make it into something it’s not. I like him. A lot.’
‘That much is obvious.’
‘He’s a friend.’
‘And he likes you, too,’ she says significantly.
‘As a friend,’ I insist, looking over my shoulder. ‘Careful as you reverse. It’s steep here.’
‘You could do worse,’ she comments with a smirk, ignoring my driving instructions as the tyres slide across the slippery grass.
‘Oh, yeah, and where does Elliot fit into all of this?’ I snap. She’s being an idiot.
She shrugs, still smirking as she indicates right.
‘Er, it’s a left,’ I say sardonically. How can she not remember which way we came into this car park?
‘I know,’ she replies casually, flicking her indicator to the other side.
‘You’re a nightmare,’ I mutter, rolling my eyes.
She giggles as she pulls out onto the road.
Marty doesn’t feel like walking all the way to another beach, so we grab fish and chips and stick with the original plan. The sun is still warm as we sit on a bench overlooking the Camel Estuary, watching the tide roll back in. The air smells a bit pongy, but the view makes it worth it.
‘Oh, God, I forgot to say about your Beau account!’ Marty exclaims. ‘Those comments were incredible – you got so many!’
I’m tense as I top up our disposable cups with Prosecco. ‘Yeah.’
‘Bet you were beside yourself,’ she says, when I hand one over to her.
I posted Beau’s account earlier in the week, and Sara texted me a couple of days ago to congratulate me on the response from my readers. I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at what people have said. I’m still struggling to come to terms with everything.
‘What is it?’ Marty asks, seeing my face.
‘I didn’t want to write about him.’
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking. It read so well that I almost forgot it actually happened.’
I don’t say anything.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says again. ‘I should have called you.’ Her self-reproach has abruptly kicked in. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t. I’m a bit caught up in my own life at the moment.’
‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s just. . . Beau’s death was unexpected, that’s all. Sara persuaded me to put it all out there, but I wanted to let him go quietly.’
I fill her in on our conversation.
‘She has a point,’ Marty says when I’ve finished.
‘I know,’ I reply. ‘It didn’t make it any easier, though.’
We both stare out across the water as we eat in silence.
‘I never knew Beau,’ she says after a while.
I let out a deep breath. ‘I’m not sure I ever knew him either.’ My voice is laced with sadness.
She reaches over and squeezes my hand.
‘How did that happen?’ I ask after a moment. A minute ago it seemed we were looking at sandbanks. Now the estuary is full of water.
‘The tide comes in quickly, doesn’t it?’ Marty goes along with my change of subject.
‘I guess so. I haven’t been paying attention.’
‘I wonder how Ted’s getting on,’ she says.
‘Are you missing him?’
‘Yeah.’ She flashes me a soppy grin.
‘Can I be your bridesmaid?’ This makes her laugh. Surely it’s only a matter of time.
‘You can be the matron of honour,’ she replies buoyantly.
‘Don’t you have to be married to be matron of honour?’ I gather together our rubbish and stuff it into a bin.
‘No chance of you and Elliot beating us to it?’ she asks.
‘Not when he’s on the other side of the world and we’re both up to our ears in work.’
She gets up and pats my back empathetically, before grinning. ‘Chief bridesmaid, then. Anyway, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. He hasn’t proposed yet.’
‘But you think he will?’
‘I think so.’ She nods, smiling bashfully.
‘How are things with Elliot?’ Marty asks on our walk back to the campsite, and there’s a familiar undertone to her voice that always comes into play when she talks about my boyfriend.
‘Fine,’ I reply. ‘Obviously, I miss him.’ Although not as much as I was missing him, I realise. ‘It’s a bit of a bummer because we can’t even FaceTime in private here.’
‘Ooh-er,’ she says.
I smirk at her.
‘Yeah, it sucks that you guys have to do the long-distance thing,’ she says. ‘How long do you think you’ll be able to keep that up?’
‘As long as we have to, I guess. There’s no way I’ll make it back to Australia this year and he’s so busy at work that he can’t get away to come here. Mind you, I wouldn’t have time to hang out with him if he did. I’m pinning all of my hopes on Thailand.’
‘Thailand?’
‘I need to go there in November. In fact, can you look into flights?’ I ask.
‘Sure. Email me your dates when you know them.’
‘I will. Anyway, Elliot is hoping he’ll be able to meet me there.’
‘That would be cool. I’ll cross my fingers for you.’
‘Thanks. It’ll only be for a week or so, but it’s better than nothing.’
She frowns. ‘Can’t you persuade him to chuck in his job and move here?’
‘I’m not sure I’ll ever persuade him to do that, but I’ll keep trying. If anyone cracks, it will probably be me.’
‘No!’ she cries. ‘Don’t do it! You can’t!’
I smile and wrap my arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze.
It doesn’t matter how deep in Ted’s pockets she is or how little time she even has for me these days, Marty still detests the thought of my moving abroad. She’s always been jealous of my boyfriends – even the ones who live here in the same country, the same city, even. The fact that Elliot resides in Australia is a big problem.
She hasn’t even met him, but I know she’d love him if she did.
She’s not the only one who’s worried I’ll emigrate. Dad is terrified, too.
To be honest, I don’t want to move. I loved Australia, but England is my home and it is so much easier to travel and see the world from here.
But Elliot, who grew up in this country, has no intention of returning here permanently. He loves his Sydney lifestyle, the harbourside bars, the beaches.
It’s a tricky one, that’s for sure.