A Perfect Cornish Escape

Chapter Six

Marina had only the birds for company when she went straight from work to do an early evening stint at the lookout station. Gulls wheeled overhead and she could hear the distinctive cry of the choughs as they flew around feeding their babies on the cliffs. Term was in full swing again and she’d been lecturing that morning, before attending a faculty meeting and doing some marking.

Her fellow watcher had called in sick at the last minute, and while she didn’t really mind having the station to herself, it was obviously more tiring to keep watch alone. When the station had first opened all those years before, she’d found herself dwelling a lot on Nate and what might have happened to him.

From time to time, she also found the swimmer from the beach – though she ought to think of him as Lachlan – stealing into her mind. She’d seen him a couple of times from a distance but no other acknowledgement apart from the nod. This was unusual on Coastguard Terrace where all the permanent residents knew each other, and even some of the second homers had become friends. But he’d already demonstrated that he wanted to keep himself to himself and that was fine.

So she almost did a double take when he appeared in the sights while she’d been scanning a collapsed section of the coast path for walkers. She put the binoculars down and looked at him with her naked eye. This time he wasn’t in trunks, but jeans and a hoodie. He came from the direction of the Lizard and was obviously heading back to his cottage. Or so she thought. Instead of walking in front of the station, he vanished which could only mean one thing.

The path ran directly in front and below the station, with a short detour up to the building itself. Most of the time, they left the door open, welcoming visitors, most of whom were happy to leave a small donation for funds. A few seconds later, she heard him climb the steps and reappear in the doorway. After rebuffing her invitation, he was the last person she expected to visit.

‘Hello!’ he called from the lobby next to the staff area at the rear of the station. ‘Am I disturbing you?’

‘No, come in!’ she called.

He walked into the operations area, where Marina smiled a welcome, wondering what he wanted. It was such a surprise to see him after he’d brushed off her previous attempt to engage with him.

‘You’re on your own up here?’ He scanned the room as if someone might be hiding.

‘Yes, but only for this shift. The retired coastguard who was supposed to watch with me has gone down with shingles, poor guy. It’s not ideal, but otherwise the station would have to close … We seem to keep seeing each other from afar,’ Marina said. She held out her hand. ‘Marina Hudson from two doors down.’

Those hazel eyes were watchful as he shook her hand in mock solemnity. His voice even in offering his name was measured. ‘Lachlan McKinnon. Your new neighbour from the far north.’

‘Hello, Lachlan.’

At least she didn’t have to think of him as Lachlan ‘Something-Scottish’ any more. She liked his name, kept wanting to say it out loud and found his accent was as soothing and rugged as she imagined his home might be. His hair was thick and curly, the colour of a chestnut, and he was taller than she’d recalled, but he had been up to his ankles in pebbles on their first encounter. She wondered how much he knew about her circumstances – probably more than she knew of his.

‘I’d heard your first name … Aaron Carman told me,’ he said.

‘I knew your first name too.’ She smiled, deciding not to tell him that the post woman had told her. ‘Word travels fast in a small town like Porthmellow. Trouble is, it’s not always that accurate by the time it reaches me.’

‘I can imagine …’ His eyes lit up with curiosity. ‘What else have you heard about me?’

Marina hovered between tact and honesty and decided that Lachlan would respond better to the latter. ‘Almost nothing, other than you were in the RAF military police and you’ve come to work with Aaron.’ She smiled. ‘Excuse me for stating the bloomin’ obvious but Porthmellow is a long way from the Highlands.’

He smiled. ‘Aye. In every way.’ His eyes darted around, taking in the equipment. She wondered if he was giving it a professional appraisal. Although they were reasonably well equipped, it couldn’t possibly compete with a military set-up.

‘Did you find somewhere to swim?’ she asked, breaking a silence that had gone on a fraction too long for comfort. Maybe he was ready to leave now he’d introduced himself properly … funny how much she hoped he’d linger a little longer. She wanted to know more about her new neighbour.

‘Yes … I asked Aaron and he made a few suggestions. In fact, I came up here to thank you for your advice. I’m sorry I was a bit offhand when we met down in the cove the other day.’

Marina almost dropped the binoculars. An apology. Wow, and he’d bothered to come by and tell her. ‘Oh … I see. I have to be honest, I’d wondered if you thought I was being a busybody.’

‘No.’ He grimaced. ‘OK. I’ll admit I wasn’t in the most receptive mood for health and safety tips that afternoon, but I hadn’t long been here and let’s say I was out of my comfort zone so I headed out for some exercise to try and sort my head out. I probably shouldn’t have swum in a strange place alone …’ His gaze held hers. ‘Although fortunately for me, someone was watching.’

A hint of warmth stole into Marina’s cheeks for no reason whatsoever.

‘That’s our job,’ she said hastily, reminding herself as much as him. It was her job to keep an eye on people. Thank God he couldn’t see the secret tucked inside her: she’d thought about him a lot since that afternoon; his face, his manner, his body … way more than she should have. Wave watching shouldn’t be a licence to ogle, she’d reminded herself a dozen times, but Lachlan had stirred feelings in her that she’d thought had vanished along with Nate.

‘You’re all volunteers here, then?’

She nodded, keen to move the conversation on to her work. ‘Yes, though some people think we’re employed by the coastguard. When they hear the truth, they often think we’re mad to give up our time for nothing.’

He laughed softly. ‘Maybe we are.’

She noted the use of ‘we’. ‘Have you been involved in something like this yourself? Coast guarding, I mean?’

‘Not as such … not by the sea, anyway, but I was a volunteer in a mountain rescue team while I was serving on the RAF base near Aviemore. It was a while ago now …’ He took a closer look at the marine radar, resting his hand on the desk next to the shipping log. ‘This is quite a set-up.’

Marina was convinced he was being generous but didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to tell him more about the Wave Watchers now he was interested in the station. ‘Would you like a mini tour?’

‘Aye, as long as I’ll not be disturbing you?’

‘No problem. I can still keep watch while I show you around.’

She showed him the equipment and told him about the duties of the volunteers. Unlike most of their visitors, he had some idea of how the radar and visual equipment operated and seemed genuinely interested. Before she knew it, over half an hour had passed by, during which she’d broken off to give a local weather report to a fishing vessel and kept an eye on the movements of a couple of anglers casting off the rocks off the cove.

While she did her duties, Lachlan looked out over the waves, quiet and watchful, as if he was searching for something – or someone – just as she had in the days and weeks after Nate had first gone missing.

She turned to him and explained what she’d been doing, showing him the observation log, and he asked her about some of the incidents they’d helped with.

‘I can’t believe you managed to re-open and equip this place on your own,’ he said. ‘When I was a volunteer with the MRT, even though we had professional support from the RAF, they still relied on donations and people to keep going.’

‘I should think it was tough working in the mountains. Out in the snow and gales,’ Marina said.

‘Sometimes …’ He hesitated, a little wistfully. ‘You get on with it though,’ he resumed firmly. ‘Did you raise all the money to re-open this place?’

‘God, no. It wasn’t only me,’ she protested. ‘Loads of people in the town helped – local businesses, the WI, the Fisherman’s Institute, friends, neighbours, students and colleagues at the college where I work. Almost everyone chipped in or helped somehow. I could never have done it or kept it open on my own. It’s a constant battle to raise enough to keep going and to get enough volunteers to keep it open during daylight hours. I’d never have dreamed of doing something like this before …’ Her voice tailed off. ‘Before I realised how much of a need there was for someone to replace what the coastguard used to do.’ She had no intention of volunteering the real reason why she opened the station. If he asked, well, that was different and she’d deal with it.

He blew out a breath. ‘It’s good going. Respect to you. I know the effort you must have put in and still do.’

‘It doesn’t feel like an effort. I enjoy it, in all weathers,’ she replied, realising instantly what a strange thing that was to say, considering she’d started doing it because of losing Nate. She smiled and her next words tumbled out of her mouth before she could chicken out. ‘You could volunteer for us, if you’re interested … you’d have to do the training, of course, but we can do most of it here and with your background in SAR you’d probably breeze through it … if you’re staying in Porthmellow for a while, that is.’

He hesitated. ‘Thanks for the invitation but I’m sure I’d be no use to you in this situation.’

‘Actually, with your background and experience, I think you’d be exactly what we’re looking for.’

‘Thanks, but I’m not sure what my plans are yet.’ He checked his watch, unnecessarily as there was a huge clock on the wall. ‘Sorry, I have to be off. I’ve a meeting with Aaron before dinner.’

Marina knew she’d cast the net too soon.

‘OK. Well, you know where we are if you change your mind.’

He smiled. ‘I’m afraid I’m not likely to … forgive my bluntness, but I’d rather be honest with you now. Thanks for your faith in me all the same. I’m flattered.’

‘I didn’t intend to flatter you,’ she said.

She was answered with another smile that could be covering any emotion from irritation to pleasure.

She’d no idea what he was thinking but one thing was certain: he was eager to be out of her way. It was a shame, after they’d talked for so long. She’d enjoyed his company, his physical presence and the strange sensation that he was a kindred spirit, though that was entirely based on her gut feeling.

‘You know, there’s a fundraising day in aid of the lookout station and the local lifeboats a week on Saturday,’ she said. ‘If you fancy coming along with Aaron, we’d love to see you? His parents are helping out and there’ll be an auction at the end. You could bid on a Christmas turkey, if you like.’

He laughed. ‘A turkey? Wow. That’s … tempting. In that case, I’ll see what I can do.’ He checked his watch again. ‘Now, I must be going. Thanks again for the tour.’

‘See you around, I expect, now we’re neighbours,’ she said,

‘Aye, I expect you will,’ was the simple answer before he strode out of the door. He seemed to be a mercurial man and despite what he’d said, she had an inkling he wanted to join in community life, but something was holding him back.

He left Marina wondering about him even more, to the point, in fact, that she was finding it hard to focus on the job: keeping people safe.

With dusk starting to fall, and clouds making the evening gloomy, she locked up the station and threaded her way through the gorse to the cottage.

Lachlan was on her mind all the while, which she found a pleasant distraction from the drizzle that had moved in from the Atlantic. OK, so he was simply the ‘new kid in town’ and like every attractive fresh arrival in Porthmellow, he was bound to hold an exotic mystique, if you could call the Scottish Highlands ‘exotic’. And yes, he was single, according to Evie, although that was one nugget of info she obviously hadn’t let on to him.

She was single too, she supposed, as her mother and friends had reminded her lately – but that didn’t mean ‘unattached’.

She was still attached to Nate’s memory, even now seven years after they’d been ripped apart. Despite what she’d heard on the grapevine, even if there was no ‘significant other’, Lachlan McKinnon might be attached to someone too. He hadn’t given any reasons for leaving his Highland life for Cornwall. He didn’t seem much older than her, so he couldn’t have retired … maybe the ‘accident’ had been the reason behind his move.

She might be imagining it, but she thought they had a connection – or was that simply her reading too much into a visitor’s polite interest, after a solo shift in the remote station? After a lonely few years, isolated in her grief and recovery?

Whatever had caused his scars, she had a feeling they weren’t much different from the ones she still carried inside from losing Nate. They had that much in common … and she wondered, could there be more? He had agreed to come to the fundraiser, or more accurately he hadn’t said he wouldn’t come. After his firm ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to joining the Wave Watchers, she’d have expected a refusal if there was no chance of him turning up at all.

Even on their brief acquaintance, she had a feeling he wasn’t one for soft-soap or flannel even if it was to save someone’s feelings … and he certainly wasn’t a charmer or joker, as Nate had been.

Musing on some happier memories of Nate – the good days when they’d laughed and had fun together – she let herself in and hung her damp coat on the peg in the cottage hallway. On finding Tiff pacing around the sitting room with her phone clutched in her hand, her focus switched immediately to her cousin.

Tiff stabbed off her phone and tossed it on the armchair. ‘Sh-shi—!’ She bit off the expletive on seeing Marina.

‘What’s up? Are you OK?’

‘Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’ Tiff retrieved her phone from the side of the chair cushion.

‘No reason … you just seem a little bit stressed out?’

‘I’m fine.’ Tiff grinned. ‘Apart from haring around the county. I need a weekend off. Now, how was your shift at the lookout? I thought you’d be tired and I made a spag bol. Well, actually, it’s only the bol that’s done. I waited for you before I put the spag on.’

‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Marina asked, pleased she didn’t have to prepare a meal.

‘Not really. I went to a pasty factory at lunchtime and I’m afraid I rather over indulged at the tasting session.’ She rubbed her stomach. ‘I’ll be the size of a trawler by the time I go back to London.’

‘Thanks. I’m ravenous.’

A little while later, she tucked into her dinner, while Tiff toyed with her spaghetti before pushing her plate away.

Marina cleaned her plate and considered finishing Tiff’s leftovers but it seemed rude.

‘Busy day?’

‘Yes. I’m knackered. I’d never realised how exhausting it is, having to be nice to people.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t afford to upset the magazine’s customers but if I have to feign interest about another conservatory manufacturer or handmade soap company, I might go mad.’

Marina laughed. ‘I’m sure no one can tell you’re anything less than fascinated about their products. Talking of the advertisers, I’m going to a meeting about the fundraiser tomorrow night. We’re finalising the list of auction lots so we can advertise them online and whip up interest. I don’t want to hassle you but how are you getting on with potential prizes? Any luck with your London contacts yet?’

‘Oh, fine. It’s all in hand.’ Tiff waved airily. ‘I’m waiting for a few people to get back to me, that’s all.’

‘Great. It’s wonderful that you managed to get the fishing trip and bikini wax, but if you could find something that would create more of a buzz, that would be amazing.’

‘Like I say, it’s all sorted.’ Tiff’s smile was confident.

‘I’m sure it is. In fact, Dirk told me you had the situation in hand.’

Tiff’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Dirk? When? What exactly did he say?’

‘Not a lot …’ Judging by Tiff’s shocked expression, Marina wished she hadn’t mentioned her fleeting chat with Dirk outside the lifeboat station earlier that day.

‘Well, he obviously said something.’ Tiff’s voice turned silky, putting Marina on her guard. She’d seen her cousin in defensive mode, like a cobra about to strike. She was glad she’d never been on the receiving end of a Tiff Trescott exposé.

‘I can’t recall his exact words,’ Marina said carefully. ‘And I wasn’t recording them,’ she quipped, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but Tiff had folded her arms in expectation. ‘I mentioned the meeting and he said: “Oh good, I’m looking forward to hearing about the amazing auction lots. I hear Tiff is all over them.” Or something like that.’

Tiff let out a snort. ‘I bet he is.’

‘Look,’ Marina said soothingly. ‘If you’re worried about letting us down, you won’t be. We’re already very grateful for the prizes you’ve got. If there’s anything else you can do, well, that’s a bonus. Don’t let Dirk wind you up—’

‘Ha! Wind me up? I don’t care what he thinks.’

Marina felt bad about mentioning the prizes again but she did have to report back to the committee so they could add the big lot to the web page and programme. There was plenty of time, of course, it would only take minutes to add the items to the social media, but the sooner the better in terms of getting the word out. She had wondered what Tiff was working on … a signed cricket bat from the World Cup winning team, perhaps? Tiff had said she’d interviewed one of their wives the previous year and they got on like a house on fire. Or a signed copy of JK Rowling’s new novel? Tiff had contacts in publishing … Or maybe a London theatre weekend? Tiff had been to premieres in the past.

Hmm. Maybe those were all a step too far. It wasn’t fair of her to hope for so much. She resolved to manage the organisers’ expectations that evening, and have a discreet word with Dirk, if she could do it without Tiff getting to hear about it. Otherwise, her life wouldn’t be worth living. One thing was for sure, there was definitely an ‘atmosphere’ between her cousin and Dirk. Marina wondered if those two had bumped into each other more often than Tiff let on.

Tiff made a pot of tea and joined Marina in the sitting room. She was amused to find that instead of her usual mug of builder’s, Tiff brought a tray with china cup and saucers, and a plate with a slice of lemon on it. She felt she’d gone to tea with the queen and that brought a smile to her face.

Tiff poured the tea into the cups, which Marina and Nate had received as a wedding present from his great aunt. ‘Erm, I hope it’s OK for me to mention this, but how are you feeling about the anniversary of Nate’s disappearance coming up this summer?’

‘Mm, mixed feelings really. It still hurts, but I’ve prepared myself for this for a long time now and it does mean I can get a lot of legal ends tied up. Actually, my solicitor has been in touch and asked if I’m ready to set in motion the legal process to declare him legally dead.’ Marina could say the word out loud now. She’d made herself say it out loud if only to inoculate herself against the impact of the word.

‘I think that’s very brave. And very sensible.’

‘I admit that I couldn’t bear to face up to the finality of it until a couple of years ago but now I want it all over. Things weren’t perfect between Nate and me, I can recognise that.’

‘No …’ Tiff murmured before taking refuge in her tea. She didn’t contradict Marina so Marina assumed she was being tactful. ‘I’m here if you want to talk – or scream or cry.’

Marina smiled. ‘I think I’ve done enough of that over the years. I want to have – that horrible word – “closure” and move on.’ Unexpectedly, Lachlan slipped into her thoughts again; his silhouette staring out over the sea … Why, when she’d known other local men for years, had she been so struck by one who’d only been in the village for a few weeks? ‘This tea is lovely, by the way,’ she said brightly.