For once, things are going well for thirty-year-old Kerra Shaw. She has a fulfilling job helping small businesses in the local community, she is within a few minutes’ walk of all the people she loves best, and most importantly, she has finally got together with her childhood sweetheart, Ross.

It’s not all plain sailing, though, because they have to keep their relationship a secret. The feud between their families still rages on, and Kerra doesn’t want to pour fuel on its flame and risk losing everything.

But Kerra should know better than anyone that secrets don’t stay hidden for long in a community like Penvennan Cove…

 

This is the second title in the Penvennan Cove series OF 3 BOOKS. all can be read as standalone stories.

 

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Audio link:

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READ CHAPTER ONE:

October

1. Wishful Thinking

In hindsight, coming home to Penvennan Cove was the easy part. It’s the entanglement with the past that is making my life increasingly difficult with each passing day. While Dad is my number-one supporter, in an ironic twist of fate he is fast becoming my number-one problem.
‘That’s a big frown you’re wearing today, Kerra.’ The voice of my neighbour, Drew Matthews, seems to come out of nowhere as I step out onto the pavement outside of Pascoe’s Café and Bakery.
Clutching a waxed paper bag in my hand, I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. ‘It’s one of those days, I’m afraid. And when I’m in need of comfort food, this is where I come for the best hevva cake.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it, but thanks for the heads-up as it’s something I haven’t tried yet. If you can hang on while I pick up a pasty for lunch, I’ll walk back with you.’
‘Okay. Don’t rush. It’s bracing out, but I could do with a little fresh air to clear my head.’
As Drew makes his way inside Pascoe’s, I cross the road towards the low, stone wall on the far side of the council cark park. Gazing out over the beach, I see that it’s a cold, murky, inhospitable morning and even the seagulls have been driven inland. The sea, too, is a dirty shade of grey, and on the horizon it’s hard to tell where the water ends and the sky begins. It looks as grim as my mood. I scuff the pavement with the toe of my shoe. A fine layer of gritty sand is swirled around by the wind every time it gusts, creating curious, snake-like trails.
Stooping down, I perch on the uneven surface of the stone wall to look back at the picturesque cluster of buildings that is the heart of Penvennan Cove. The café and bakery has the prime position, situated on the large corner plot at the bottom of the long hill that leads up to the village. Out of sight, just beyond the bend, is what must qualify as one of the tiniest newsagent’s shops in Cornwall. But it’s been here for as long as I can remember, and Gryff still sells loose sweets. The old-fashioned screw-lid jars line the wall behind the counter and there’s something for everyone.
I watch as Drew strides towards me, stuffing a bag into the pocket of his coat before buttoning it up to the top. This wind seems to get into every little nook and cranny, and it feels more like winter, than autumn.
‘Do you fancy a walk along the beach before we make our way back? I think we’ve seen the worst of storm Alexa now, thank goodness.’ Drew grins at me. ‘The choice is yours.’
‘Why not? I’ve been working online since five this morning and, like Alexa, I’m running out of steam.’
Jumping up I fall in alongside Drew. Tall, with dark brown curly hair, he’s one of those people you can count on in an emergency, or a listening ear if you’re in need of one. We hit it off from day one when I returned home in April and took up residence in Pedrevan Cottage, which is attached to Drew’s beautifully named Tigry Cottage.
‘Why the long face? I thought you and Ross were getting on well.’
The wind catches my hair and I use my free hand to scoop it away from my eyes. ‘We are, in a low-key, inconspicuous manner,’ I reply, labouring the word.
‘Oh. My lips are sealed, you know that. But seriously, Kerra, anyone who is around the two of you for even a short period of time will twig what’s really going on.’
‘One’s first love is always a special bond, isn’t it? Coming home I knew that old memories might return to haunt me, but not my teenage crush. I simply wasn’t prepared for the emotional pull I felt when I saw Ross Treloar for the first time after so many years.’
‘And now you know that he feels the same way, isn’t it time to put the past behind you both?’
I heave a huge sigh and it’s carried away on the wind. If only it were as easy to shake off the hurts of the past. ‘If it was just down to us, then it wouldn’t be a problem. But it isn’t and that’s why we’re avoiding being seen together. I know that Sy and Tegan won’t let anything slip, but it’s Dad I’m worried about.’
My two closest friends always have my back. Tegan runs Clean and Shine, the bulk of whose work is servicing holiday lets and offices, with a small domestic market. Sy followed me here from London. Little did I know that not only would they begin working together as a team, but also end up getting engaged.
‘Eddie seems okay around Ross,’ Drew replies, as we step over the wrack line, where kelp, shells and other debris are deposited at high tide.
Being an emmet and an incomer, someone who wasn’t born here, Drew has no idea of the level of animosity between my dad, Eddie, and Ross’s father, Jago.
‘He is, but that’s because he isn’t aware that there’s anything going on between Ross and me. Jago always considered his family to be a cut above everyone else. When they moved away from the village into their huge, manor house, he knew he was going up in the world. Jago has connections everywhere and a little power can go a long way.’
‘I can’t imagine Eddie getting pulled into that,’ Drew comments, frowning.
‘The enmity between our two fathers stems from a feud that began shortly after my parents bought Green Acre. Dad put in a planning application for a change of use for the land to set up the kennels. Jago was a local councillor at the time, and he was also on the planning committee. He’s a man who likes to flex his muscles and put people in their place. Even though he no longer lived in the village, and given that no one else objected, he tried his best to veto it.’
‘Why would he do that? It’s not as if the kennels can be seen from the road into the village. It makes no sense if the locals didn’t have a problem. And it has its own off-road parking.’
This is hard to explain as it doesn’t really portray Dad in a flattering light.
‘Ross and I… well, he was popular with the girls at school and Dad knew I liked him. Dad didn’t make Ross welcome, because he felt I deserved better. But it wasn’t Ross’s fault. He didn’t play games, and most of the rumours about him weren’t true. While girls threw themselves at him, the boys were jealous of his popularity, and Ross suffered through no real fault of his own. Dad believed what he heard and let that be known. And that’s why Jago fought so hard to scupper my parents’ plan to set up the business. It was personal.’
‘And now you’re caught in the middle, not wanting to hurt Eddie, but… well, let’s face it, you and Ross spark off each other. I think you’re fighting a losing battle, Kerra.’
Drew is right, but I came back to Penvennan to support my dad after the death of my mum, not to alienate or upset him.
‘The irony is that Dad has always respected Ross’s work ethic. Not least, for the way he’s managed Treloar’s Building Limited since his parents decided to move to Spain.’
‘Well, that’s a start,’ Drew points out.
‘Hmm. Not really. Ross’s very public divorce simply confirmed Dad’s view that Ross isn’t reliable when it comes to relationships. And Ross is treading carefully, because if he upsets my dad then we have a real problem.’
‘It’s an uphill battle, then?’
I laugh, but it sounds as hollow as I feel. ‘As you know, before she died I promised Mum that I’d come home, to put her mind at rest. I’m not sure who she felt was in most need of a little support – Dad or me – but her instincts were right, and I have no regrets. But Dad won’t understand that Ross isn’t ready to jump into a full-blown relationship, anyway, given what Ross has been through. And that suits me fine. I’m in no hurry myself so we’re taking it a day at a time. Admittedly we are having a little fun in the process, but there are no guarantees and neither of us are taking anything for granted.’
‘You mean that Eddie is old-fashioned, and he wouldn’t approve of the two of you creeping around and having sleepovers?’
We burst out laughing at the same time.
‘It’s not funny,’ I declare, robustly. ‘I left here as a teenager and Dad missed the years in between. Now I’m back, he feels it’s his job to protect his daughter from…’ I cast around for the right words.
‘From being seduced by the charms of her childhood sweetheart?’
‘It’s a little late for that now, but Dad doesn’t want to see me get my heart broken. And Ross and I were only ever friends – Dad made sure of that.’
‘Then go on being discreet, and gradually Eddie will come to see how happy you are and, hopefully, realise it’s because of Ross.’
‘You make it sound so simple, Drew. I feel like I’m living in a goldfish bowl at times after the anonymity of living in London. The pace of life is so fast there that people don’t have time to worry about the small stuff and, often, they don’t give a damn anyway. It’s as if I’m doing something wrong, which is ridiculous at my age. I’m a grown woman and a free agent. And so is Ross.’
Drew tuts. ‘Ah, but the rumour mill loves talking about him, Kerra, and you – the returner. In a small community like this one, not much goes unnoticed,’ Drew continues. ‘You’ll need to be clever to keep something like this a secret.’
‘I know. But it will be easier now that Ross is living up at Treylya, at least until it’s sold. He’s installed a cat flap for Ripley.’
Drew stops to pick up a stone, rooting around until he finds one flat enough to skim.
‘That’s a start. At least she won’t be sitting on the doorstep at two in the morning miaowing to get in when you’re not there. I still haven’t forgiven her.’
I watch him as he positions himself, his right arm across his body, his focus full-on. Pulling a sad face, he glances at me and then does a few practice pitches as he gets ready to throw.
‘Don’t make me feel guilty, Drew,’ I groan. ‘I can’t help that your cat wouldn’t come home to you after I looked after her for a while. She must be the noisiest Bengal in the world. Honestly, the conversations Ripley has with me are exhausting at times. Especially when it’s in the early hours of the morning. At least she loves Ross.’
‘That makes two of you, then.’ He grins back at me, finally releasing the stone in his hand. It looks promising as he stands back and we both squint, watching as the rock glances off the water twice and then disappears.
‘It’s the waves,’ he tells me, solemnly. ‘It’s too choppy.’
‘They all say that,’ I reply, amused.
I pick up a similar stone, then do one or two practice manoeuvres before launching it horizontally through the air.
‘One, two, three… four! Yes!’
‘Gloat, why don’t you? But you lived here for eighteen years before you ran off to London and had plenty of time to practise. For a newbie like me, two isn’t bad.’
‘Hmm. You’ll get better over time,’ I reply, encouragingly. I don’t like to tell him that I’ve never done less than three and when the water is calm, I can do five.
We stop to gaze up at the sky and the seagulls wheeling overhead, squawking away. Their raucous calls are eerie when the weather is so grim. I think about how cold the water is and it makes me shudder. My granddad Harry drowned when I was only ten years old; his small fishing boat smashed against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. It was an awful way for his life to end, especially given that the sea was a big part of his life for so many years. He survived violent storms at sea when other men didn’t make it back to dry land. Coming here I feel close to him, but it’s always tinged with great sadness.
‘I’m fed up trying to keep the hair out of my eyes and mouth. Shall we head back?’
Drew nods in agreement. ‘Let’s take the shortcut through the pub car park.’
We walk diagonally, heading towards the gate in the far right-hand corner where the beach meets the steep cliffs. It’s almost lunchtime and there are at least a dozen cars parked up. The Lark and Lantern is owned and run by Sam Saunders and his daughter, Polly, an old school friend of mine.
‘Do you think they’ll survive another year?’ I ask, glancing in Drew’s direction.
He screws up his face. ‘Sam stays positive, but Polly has her doubts.’
‘I know. It’s the heart of Penvennan Cove when the tourists are here and for the locals when they aren’t. Imagine the winter months without anywhere for folk to congregate for a chat, a pint and some pub grub.’
As we walk within a couple of feet of the windows, I peer in and it looks so cosy at this time of the year. The log fire in the main bar is inviting, but I have work to do and so does Drew, who is a freelance architect. He’s designed and project-managed the building of an extension to the rear of both of our semi-detached cottages, and I’ve come to know him well in a relatively short time.
‘How is Bertie settling in, these days? Is Ripley still terrorising him?’
Drew was very gracious allowing me to keep Ripley, not that he had much say in it at the time. But I couldn’t leave him without any company at all and when darling little Bertie’s owner died and Dad was asked to find a new home for him, I knew he’d be good company for Drew and loyal.
‘You know what Ripley’s like. She might not want to live with me anymore, but she still regards him as an interloper. I usually keep an eye out if Bertie wants to have a run around the garden. If I see Ripley perched on the fence, I call Bertie in.’
It’s hard not to smile. ‘I have tried talking to her,’ I inform him, feeling bad. ‘I’m sure she’ll get used to Bertie being around eventually, as he’s so friendly.’
Bertie is a miniature Schnauzer and his previous owner trained him well. But he hates the rain and if he gets caught in a downpour he refuses to move and will stand there, with his legs locked rigid. I’ve caught sight of Drew on countless occasions recently, returning home carrying Bertie back from a walk. It’s hilarious.
Halfway through the uphill climb, our pace slows a little as we pass the row of tiny fishermen’s cottages that time has hardly changed. They’ve all been renovated over the years, but in keeping with their original character. It’s one of the reasons why families flock here in the summer months. It’s such a pretty little Cornish village, leading down to a picturesque cove with a sizeable beach, a welcoming pub serving great food and the best bakery for miles around. It’s also a little off the beaten track and small enough not to be an option for anyone towing anything more than a two-man boat.
At the top of the hill, we stop for a moment to catch our breath.
‘It’s an amazing property, isn’t it?’ Drew turns to gaze up at the clifftops in the distance. Renweneth is several miles away by road, but as the crow flies it’s just a trek through the forest of trees. Treylya stands proudly looking out from the tip of the headland.
‘Yes. It’s way too big for Ross, obviously. What was he thinking letting his wife talk him into building it? He told me that he’ll probably end up losing money when he manages to find the right buyer.’
‘Is that why he’s moved back in? I suppose it isn’t easy to arrange viewings when a property is rented out.’
I avoid Drew’s gaze. ‘Sort of.’
‘Oh! Right. I see… hence the cat flap! It’s not just because Ripley has this tendency to visit him because she enjoys a little romp up through the woods, then?’
‘No. Ross didn’t like me driving home alone in the early hours of the morning from The Forge and it was an hour round-trip for him to drop me back. It’s a fifteen-minute walk from my cottage up to Treylya, so he can walk back with me to the end of the village and check I get home alright.’
‘And while your car continues to be parked up outside Pedrevan Cottage, when Eddie looks out the corner bedroom window at Green Acre, all is right in his little world.’
We saunter along, past the Penvennan Convenience Store run by Mrs Moyle and her husband, Arthur, and I peer inside, catching her eye and returning her wave.
‘I have a plan and, if I do say so myself, it’s a particularly clever one to hopefully get Dad and Ross working together.’
As we cross the road, Drew and I stand for a few moments outside of Tigry Cottage. The wind is finally petering out and I shake my head to untangle my hair.
‘Really? Ross and Eddie? You know what they say about the best laid plans and all that. Alternatively, you could just let Eddie come to his own conclusion in the fullness of time.’
Seriously? ‘A decade wasn’t enough time for Dad to forgive Ross for a wrong that he never perpetrated in the first place. We simply hung around together with a bunch of school friends, that’s all, so now it’s time Dad got to know him a little better. I’m optimistic that I can get him to see Ross in a different light.’
Drew shakes his head, a forlorn expression on his face. ‘You make it sound like a PR exercise. Hmm… good luck with that! And enjoy your hevva cake. I’m off to eat my slightly squashed pasty.’
‘Enjoy. One day I will present you with a proper Cornish tin miner’s pasty, like my grandma Rose used to make, with apple at one end.’
Drew is already at his front door, inserting the key. ‘Now that’s an offer I wouldn’t refuse. You don’t like cooking, though.’
‘I know,’ I call out, as I walk away from him. ‘But I know a man who can. He’s quite a chef, on the quiet.’
As I walk up the path to Pedrevan Cottage I can hear Drew chuckling away to himself. I’m feeling refreshed, if wind-blown, and ready to start work again…