Page 71 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay
‘Great. I’ll come with you. Could do with one of his muscular Americanos.’
Peggy bit her lip. ‘Could you wait a bit, sweetheart? Come down in half an hour, say? I need a few minutes alone with him.’
Liam looked concerned. ‘Knew something was up. Ted on the sofa, you looking as if you’ve got a head like a bag of chisels. What’s going on, Mum?’
‘Bag of chisels’ just about sums it up, she thought ruefully. ‘Something I need to sort out,’ she told her son, as she bent to kiss his cheek. ‘We could go for a swim later if you fancy? Or a drive somewhere? Take a walk along the coastal path? It’s your last day, you choose.’ She was gabbling, she knew, in a vain attempt to make everything normal.
Liam frowned as he pondered the goings-on between his mother and Ted. ‘Yeah, let’s think about it,’ he said, as she picked up her plate and cup, her phone, and went inside.
Ted and Shona– co-opted for a few hours because of Ted being in and out organizing movie night– were busy. It was another beautiful day. The queue to be served was long, but everyone seemed in a relaxed mood, happy to wait and chat to the others about their good fortune in having found such a delightful spot in the sunshine, about Bolt– who always drew the crowds– about the excellent coffee.
Ted glanced up as Peggy approached. He gave her a smile, but it seemed tight-lipped.
Nipping round to the back of the van and opening the door, Peggy said, ‘Can I have a quick word, please, Ted?’
He gave an almost imperceptible harrumph and gestured to the queue. ‘It’ll have to wait till we clear this lot.’
‘Fine,’ Peggy said. ‘Hi, Shona,’ she added, to receive a warm greeting from the South African– in marked contrast to Ted’s frosty response. She backed away from the steps and closed the door. Then, bending to stroke Bolt as she passed his basket, where he was basking in the sun, she wandered off to sit on the wall that edged the car park.
It seemed like a long time before Ted emerged from the van. Customers were served, then replaced by more. Peggy didn’t mind. She was happy to rest there in the heat, give in to her dazed state. She’d closed her eyes and was almost drifting off when she felt a shadow fall over her face. Ted was standing uneasily in front of her. ‘Brought you a coffee,’ he said, in a conciliatory tone, holding out a takeaway cup.
She took it gratefully and thanked him, shifting her bum along the wall so that he had room to sit too. Sipping the coffee to give herself time to make sure she said the right thing, in the end Peggy just delivered a heartfelt apology. ‘I didn’t mean to worry you last night. I just got carried away by their mad antics,’ she added.
Ted was silent. ‘Might have guessed they were potheads,’ he remarked sourly.
Peggy did not know what to say. Her staying out late was not the real issue here. But she was not looking to antagonize him today. ‘Can we not fight any more, Ted?’ she asked, reaching for his hand.
He took it in his and squeezed it. ‘Agreed.’
Neither spoke.
‘Listen…’ Ted broke the silence, sounding uncomfortable. ‘I know you’ve seen something ominous in my friendship with Lindy. But it really is just that: friendship.Nothing more.I really want you to trust me on that front.’
Peggy glanced at him, but he looked away.There’s that odd insistence on trust again, she thought. She replied, ‘Lindy is an amazing woman in many respects. But…’ She tailed off, then said wearily, ‘You know what I think.’
Ted’s head was lowered, hands clasped firmly betweenhis knees. Then he looked up at her. ‘Peggy…’ he began, his expression so pained it made her wince, her heart jump.
‘What?’
She watched Ted take a deep breath. He was silent for a long moment. Then he said softly, ‘Nothing. It’s nothing. We can talk later.’
Peggy waited. Ted had dropped his head again, his hands clasped together so tightly that the tanned skin of his fingers was now white. But she felt dizzy and washed out– she wasn’t going to press him.
Getting off the wall she told him, ‘I’m going to hang out with Liam today. He’s leaving in the morning.’
Ted nodded.
‘Are you OK for tonight?’ she asked. ‘Liam and I are very happy to help.’
He glanced up and met her eye. ‘Thanks.’ But he spoke as if he were miles away, as if he wasn’t hearing what she said.
Peggy walked away across the car park with a heavy heart and a pounding head. The conversation was as unsatisfactory as all the others she had with Ted these days.
33
The weather was perfect for movie night. Warm, but not muggy, not too much wind– which had been a problem the previous year, the screen flapping, distorting the images and the sound. Sunset was around nine thirty, but it was getting dark enough around nine. Everyone was to gather at eight for some socializing over a drink and a hot dog. Less than half of the audience of fifty-odd brought their cars– despite the event being billed as a ‘Drive-in Movie’, not least because few had convertibles and you didn’t get a great field of vision through a windscreen, especially from the back seat. So Paul had set up wooden benches at the rear of the car park on the newly painted bays. The ticket money was destined for a Cornish mental-health trust that Paul’s mother, Irie, was passionate about.
Now Peggy waited with Quentin beside one of the benches in the car park, which was filling with people. Everyone was milling about the area around the vans, the hot-dog stall sending out mouth-watering aromas of onions and sausage. Peggy had again asked Ted if he wanted help, but he’d insisted he could manage. He’d already popped bags of popcorn in the microwave and had cans of Coke and other soft drinks cooling in buckets of ice, he told her. Neither Henri nor the hot-dog stand had an alcohol licence, but a couple of Paul’s young minions from the farm shop were handing out wine in paper cups from a trestle table next to Ted’s van.
