Page 10 of Snow Falls Over Starry Cove

Maisie looks at me and I just have to laugh. Otherwise I’d cry and really don’t want to go there.

‘Can we change the subject?’

‘Right, you win! So, are we going to be staying with your nan?’ she asks.

‘You must be joking. I can’t spring up on her like that. Not this weekend. But I’ll definitely get in touch with her before the funeral.’

She sits up. ‘Then what the hell are we doing?’

I shrug as I turn onto the main road. ‘I just want to get the lay of the land. I haven’t confirmed I’m going.’

Maisie gasps. ‘You little sneak! You just want to spy on her to see if she’s worth meeting!’

‘Of course she is! But I don’t know that it’ll be the same for her. Remember that she and my parents weren’t on speaking terms.’

‘But it’ll soon be Christmas – isn’t this the time to atone?’

‘We’re going to.’

‘What if she’s like your mum? You want to make sure she’s nothing like your parents.’

‘She won’t be. No one is as bad as them.’

‘OK by me. And in the meantime, I’ll do some research for you,’ Maisie informs me, waggling her eyebrows up and down.

More determined in matchmaking than Jane Austen’s Emma, Maisie has her heart set on setting me up with someone who isn’t Stephen, the cause being our three-year relationship that seems to be stalling (and staling) endlessly. But Headmaster Stone lives up to his name – hard as hell to crack and even more impossible to bend.

‘In any case, I’ll be looking for myself as well. One does not go to Cornwall and return without bedding a handsome young Cornishman!’

I sigh, shaking my head good-naturedly as I approach the M3. If it hadn’t been for Alan, our music colleague who’s Cornish, I’d have taken the M4, which my route planner had suggested. But Alan says that the M3 is much more scenic and who wants a long, hard slog with nothing to look at to distract you from the enormous amount of hours it takes to get there, right? And if you do the M3, A303 and A30 route, he says, you even get to see Stonehenge. What is there not to love?

‘You should be looking forward to a quick weekend tryst, though,’ Maisie insists.

I laugh. ‘Maisie, is that all you can think of?’

‘Of course, and so should you!’

‘Technically, we’re going to meet my estranged family.’

‘Oh, so wearemeeting the old biddy, then?’

‘I’m still not sure.’

‘So where are we staying while incognito?’

‘I’ve booked a place overlooking the cliffs. It’s called The Old Bell Inn.’

‘Did you get me my own room? With a double bed? I’m feeling lucky!’

‘Will you stop?’ I laugh.

Not even ten minutes on the road and she’s already cracking the innuendos. What would I do without her?

*

Five hours later, after a couple of bathroom breaks and with a pretzel-shaped spine, my satnav tells me that Starry Cove is well away from the next exit on the A394 south of Breage. Nearby villages include Wyllow Cove, Little Kettering, Penworth Ford, and Perrancoombe.

‘Oh my God, are you serious?’ Maisie screeches as she jumps out of the car outside our inn. ‘Just bloodylookat this place! Oh, Emmie, can we stay here forever, please, please,please?’

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