Page 56 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay
Her son, turning to her, shrugged comprehensively, his big shoulders seeming to carry all the weight of his frustration. ‘I just… I just don’t know what else to say. It bugs me that Ted takes this stance when he doesn’t know any more than you or I how Lindy got that fucking bruise.’ He gathered up his mobile, which was on the garden table. ‘Reckon it’s better I’m not here when he gets back, that’s all.’
Peggy couldn’t help but agree with him– on both counts, she realized. ‘If you’re going to be late, will you text me?’
‘Sure.’ Liam came over and put his arms round her, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. ‘Thanks for thesupper, Mum. I’m sorry your lovely evening went pear-shaped. Love you.’
Liam was not late– she heard him come in around eleven– but Ted was. Once again, he stank of booze.Whisky, Peggy decided with distaste, as she rolled away from the fumes. She hadn’t slept, waiting for him. Ted was not normally a heavy drinker and this reminded her unpleasantly of Max– whisky was his favourite pass-out tipple.What’s happening to us?she wondered, as she lay staring out into the semi-darkness, the outline of the window and the full moon shining through the blinds.
After a sleepless night, Peggy got up early the next morning, around six, and decided to go for a swim. Ted was still deep in a hangover sleep. He wasn’t opening up this morning, because the council was painting new markings on the bays in the castle car park– word was so they could start laying exorbitant charges on the poor tourists– and they wouldn’t have finished till lunchtime. So Peggy had no compunction in leaving him to sleep.
It was a stunning morning. The early sun was silver-bright, the sky the palest of blue and cloudless, the breeze delicate and fresh. Peggy filled her lungs with salty sea air as she walked down the hill, reminded how physically exhilarating it was to live there.
She felt a tingle of excitement as she arrived at Mermaid Beach. She’d checked her tide app earlier, and decided, as it was high, she would swim from this spot today– just for a change– instead of from the sandier beach where she and Quentin usually met.
There was only one other swimmer out this early– the posse of women in floral swimming caps normally arrived closer to eight. Whoever it was, they were powering steadily and slowly back and forth some way out. Peggy could tell it was a woman, but not who.
Shivering slightly as she stripped off, she didn’t dilly-dally at the water’s edge, just strode in as if to the manner born and dived into the waves. The cold seized at her chest, but after a few breaths her body acclimatized as she swam as fast as her erratic stroke technique allowed towards the large yellow buoy positioned some distance out near the boats. It was invigorating once she got used to the temperature and she even enjoyed a few minutes’ floating, looking up to the morning sky, before making her way back to the shore.
The other swimmer was sitting on the wall at the top of the beach by the time Peggy pulled herself out of the water, an old white towel wrapped about her torso, shoulders bare, grey hair hanging in a damp ponytail at the nape of her neck. But even in this bedraggled state, she demonstrated a certain patrician authority.
Bunny Pascoe, Peggy thought. She knew the woman only by sight, but had heard all the rumours about how difficult she made life for her son’s girlfriend, Gen.
‘Hello,’ Peggy gasped, as she wrapped her own towel around herself, wiping the sea water off her face and pushing back her hair, which had sprung loose from the elastic band in which it had been originally trapped.
Bunny watched her curiously for a moment. Then her old weather-beaten face– which was still beautiful in her eighties– broke into a smile. ‘Good morning,’ shesaid, her voice husky, the accent privileged. ‘Do I know you?’
Peggy grinned nervously. ‘I doubt it. You probably know my partner, Ted, who runs the coffee van up by the castle.’
‘Ah, the famous Henri. And Bolt. My dogs adore Bolt.’ She waved a hand at Peggy, as if batting away a question she hadn’t asked. ‘I don’t bring them swimming with me, they just get in the way– such attention-seekers.’
Peggy smiled and sat on the wall, a little distance from the other woman.
‘Bunny Pascoe.’ She held out a cold hand.
‘Peggy Gilbert,’ Peggy said, shaking it. ‘You swim every day?’
‘Heavens, no. I’m aware people in the village like to say I do. It makes for a heroic myth: dotty old bat out in the freezing waves in darkest winter. But I’m not daft. I stick to the summer months like the rest of you.’
Peggy laughed. She liked her, despite what she’d heard.
Then Bunny said, ‘But I take it you’re not unfamiliar with the rumour mill yourself.’
Peggy froze. She looked sideways at Bunny, who was staring intently back.
‘You mean the emails,’ Peggy replied miserably.How the hell did she find out?she wondered.
Bunny clearly read her mind. ‘I heard it from Barry last night. We go way back.’
Peggy shivered. ‘Who told him?’
‘Didn’t say. Just asked if I knew anything about you. Said you’d turned him down, but he’d been keen to persuade you otherwise– he likes to get his own way, does Barry. Then he heard the rumours.’
The thought that immediately struck Peggy on hearing this was such an unpleasant one, it sent shivers up the back of her neck. She quickly dismissed it as ridiculous. Surely Lindy was so wrapped up in her problems with Felix, she was hardly in the frame of mind to call her old friend just to draw Barry’s attention to an email she had categorically dismissed. ‘I’m being stitched up,’ Peggy said quietly. ‘And I can’t find out who’s doing it.’
Bunny was silent for a moment. ‘I’m sorry for you. The village has attributed bad behaviour to me for decades. For instance, I’ve supposedly had a ding-dong with half of Cornwall– male, female, other. And I’ve apparently sold Pencarrow House to various unsavoury developers– including the lot at the haunted house, by the way– a million times over.’ She gave an elegant shrug. ‘But I can live with that.’
‘This is my reputation, mycharacter,’ Peggy said. ‘I can’t live with that.’
‘Hmm…’ Bunny thought, then went on: ‘What do you have that someone else wants? That’s where you’ll find your aggressor. Mark my words, this is pure and simple jealousy you’re dealing with.’
