Page 4 of Summer at the Cornish Garden Café

‘Yes or no? It’s quite simple, surely.’ He was towering over her now and she shuffled slowly to the edge of the bench.

‘Yes. But I’m leaving the job. I’m here to write my first novel. I want to do something different and to… to find another way.’ She held her breath, her heart racing as she peered up at him. The sun was behind him though, so his face was in shadow but she could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the way he gripped the cane between both hands now as if he was holding on for dear life.

‘Well good luck with that,’ he muttered. ‘Enjoy your day.’ He turned on his heel and stomped away, moving quickly with the assistance of the cane as if walking faster was easier than the alternative.

Lena sucked in a shaky breath then leant her elbows on her thighs and wrapped her arms around her middle. ‘What on earth was that?’ she asked, needing to vocalise her thoughts. ‘Why was he so angry?’ But deep down she knew. The majority of people hated journalists because they saw them as scum that stuck their noses where they weren’t wanted. Perhaps that man had experienced the negatives of having someone pore over his life and expose his secrets. Perhaps he was a celebrity hiding out here in Cornwall or…

Wait!

Something flickered at the edge of her mind. His face. So handsome and… familiar. His hair used to be shorter and his face clean shaven. She hadn’t seen him on anything for a while…but still… those eyes. They had peered out from TV screens and sporting broadcasts a few years ago.

He was a sporting personality.

Her brain slid the pieces of the jigsaw together.

She’d seen him on a few quiz shows competing for money for charities and on a celebrity edition of a comedy show. He was a footballer! Or had been. His name escaped her because sports hadn’t been her area, but she was pretty certain now that he was a footballer and he’d been in an accident, so he was unable to play anymore. Then he’d disappeared from the limelight as celebs sometimes did and now, he was, it seemed, hiding out in Cornwall.

But he seemed so sad, weighed down by something, probably how dramatically his life had changed. How dreadful to be forced to quit the game he had so clearly loved when he was in his prime. It made her want to find out if she could help him. See if she could soothe the injured wild animal that had roared inside him when his fear had surfaced.

Despite the fact he’d been rude to her, she knew it was a defence mechanism. She’d been at the receiving end of it many times before and she knew she’d sometimes lapsed into it herself when she’d been hurt. As a journalist, she’d developed quite a thick skin, so she wasn’t offended by his reaction, just a bit sad that he’d found her intimidating when he’d suspected her of chasing a story. She was no threat to him, and she wanted him to know that.

But how? If she chased after him now, he’d still be angry so it wasn’t the right time. And yet, if he lived in the village then she’d have to speak to him at some point because she’d be here for thesummer. The last thing she wanted was to make an enemy of him or of anyone for that matter.

It looked like he’d been through enough. And, she thought, so had she…

4

THOMAS

Thomas trembled from head to toe as he charged away from the café gardens. He couldn’t believe he’d been accosted by a journalist in the place where he’d felt safe. Would that be it now then? Would he be harassed constantly until he upped and moved away again? Where would he go this time? To the highlands of Scotland? To Norway? To the Moon?

He marched along, barely using his cane, feeling the stress of his movement impacting upon his joints, making his muscles burn. Damn! He used to be so fit he could run for miles. He’d play a game of football without tiring, and he’d been young, strong, and invincible. That was the problem with feeling invincible though, one day you’d find out you weren’t. No one was. Humans were animals, and all animals would face their demise at some point. Nothing lived forever. Everything could suffer hurt and die.

As he reached the village, he veered around the harbour and headed towards his sister’s cottage. Marnie would know what to do and what to say to help him. She’d always been so calm and wise and without her, Thomas didn’t know how he’d have managed. The funny thing was that they’d always been close aschildren and then, when he’d become professional, he’d been so busy that he’d rarely had much time for his sister or her family. They hadn’t argued, but they had drifted apart. But then it had all gone wrong for Thomas and Marnie had been there to pick up the pieces. She’d been his port in the storm. His lifeboat. Without her, he might not have made it and that was a terrifying thought. He owed her his life and he hoped she knew how much he loved her and appreciated her.

When he reached Marnie’s front door, he took a few moments to slow his breathing and calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was to worry her by charging into her home all breathless and sweaty, trembling like a rabbit caught in a trap and struggling to catch his breath enough to explain what was wrong. If he had been tracked down to the village then they would discuss what he needed to do to salvage something of his privacy. There was, of course, the chance that he’d overreacted, and the woman had not been there to find him. She’d said a few things that he couldn’t really recall because fear had made his adrenaline surge and so he’d been unable to listen to her properly. It had been like when the crowds had roared at matches, and he’d been unable to hear anything other than the white noise that drove him forwards. Perhaps the woman had been saying something perfectly reasonable, and Thomas had been in the wrong to treat her the way he had.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he inhaled slowly, exhaled for longer. He felt the tension seeping from his shoulders and his chest relaxing. As his body cooled down like a car engine after a long drive, he could feel the dull throb in his left leg that would grow as the day wore on, and the soreness in his soles where his trainers had rubbed as he’d pushed himself to go faster. This damned body was so changed since it had all gone wrong, and he hated the changes. Day to day, he told himself he had muchto be grateful for but now and then, when he felt his anxiety rising, the fact that he was changed and would never be the same again infuriated and frustrated him beyond measure. He was still young, and trying to accept that his career was over, and he was not the man he used to be was very hard to swallow. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and resentment that churned in his gut.

He needed his sister to help him make sense of it all again and so he knocked on her front door then unlocked it with the key she’d given him and went inside. Marnie would know what to say and soon he would feel better again.

Thomas found Marnie in the large open-plan kitchen. She was sitting at the island with a bowl of ripe red strawberries in front of her and a glass of sparkling water. He pulled out a stool and sat next to her then poured himself a glass of water from the bottle.

‘What’s up?’ Marnie asked as she swivelled on her stool to get a better look at him.

Thomas took a long drink then set his glass on the island.

‘What makes you think something’s up?’ he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

‘Oh come on, Thomas, I know you.’ She reached for a strawberry and bit into it then chewed slowly while Thomas tried to find the words to explain what had happened.

‘I’m worried I might have been found.’ He picked a strawberry from the bowl and turned it over in his hands, admiring the shiny red surface that nature had made so perfect.

‘And how could that have happened?’ Marnie shifted on the stool, her big belly straining against her white maternity T-shirt. Her dark curly hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing dangling silver earrings with blue-green sea glass hearts while silver studs ran all the way up her ears. The dangling earrings matched the necklace she wore. Her fingers splayed over her belly were adorned with silver rings, some embedded with sea glass and others with precious stones. Her naked arms were decorated with tattoos — on the right arm seahorses swam with mermaids and on the left arm an octopus was surrounded by colourful shells.

‘It was bound to happen at some point. I mean, we’re in Cornwall not the Outer Hebrides. Sooner or later, a journalist was bound to hear I was hiding out here and come to look for me.’

Marnie took a sip of her water before replying. ‘But they wouldn’t know to look for you here.’

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