The Frenemies Read online

  Ivy, you were in our lives for such a little while but you’ll be in our hearts for ever. Love always, Mummy and Daddy xxxx

  And then they were in each other’s arms, crying for their daughter and for each other. For the love they had lost and the even greater love that entwined their hearts like fronds of ivy that would forever bind them together.

  I tiptoed away, crying happy tears that two lovely people had finally found their way back home. To each other.

  Chapter 30

  By a quarter to noon, the area of beach around the lifeboat house was heaving with people. Jude and I had decided to address the crowd from directly outside the double doors so that if anyone took pictures they would have the lifeboat house in it behind us. At this rate the people down at the bottom would have their feet in the sea, the slipway was packed!

  ‘I had no idea we’d get such a response,’ I marvelled, raising a hand to wave to Raquel from the pub.

  ‘Oh ye of little faith,’ Jude replied with a wink.

  We grinned at each other. He might seem outwardly cocky today but it wasn’t me who’d been on the phone at five this morning, panicking that no one would come and the only audience would be the ever loyal Mabel, who right now was fast asleep in his van with the window open. I hadn’t minded; nothing wrong with showing a bit of vulnerability now and again. In fact, I thought more of him because of it. Although quite how much more I could think of him, I wasn’t sure. He was so lovely. And kind. Look at him now, shaking hands with that old lady, I thought with a girlie sigh.

  ‘Hello, glad you could come,’ he said to the old dear, who was wearing a mac, wellingtons and plastic rain hood.

  ‘Wouldn’t have missed it for all the tea in China,’ she said staunchly. ‘My dad was on the lifeboats. I spent hours on this beach as a girl waiting for him to come back safe.’

  Jude and I exchanged a look. She was exactly the reason we were doing this. Then she reached for my hand, her skin papery and dry.

  ‘Don’t marry him,’ she leaned in and whispered loudly to me. Her breath smelt of peppermint. ‘He’s not good enough for you. I can tell by his eyes: too narrow.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ I said, hiding my giggle as I patted her hand. ‘Thanks for the advice.’

  ‘If you survive the bombing that is.’ She winked conspiratorially. ‘Or was that story-leak a decoy?’

  The penny dropped: she was talking about my love interest in Victory Road, not Jude.

  ‘You mean Nurse Elsie and Constable Hardy! You’ll have to stay tuned to find out,’ I said, ridiculously pleased a) to be recognized and b) that she hadn’t meant I shouldn’t marry Jude.

  ‘Oh, I will,’ she promised and then leaned even closer and cocked her head towards Jude. ‘Mind you, this one’s quite a catch if the acting job falls through.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind too.’ I shot Jude a look and was tickled to see that he was blushing a bit.

  And therein lies the rub, I thought sadly. It was an either-or situation: either Jude and Brightside Cove or acting and London.

  ‘Recruiting you was a smart move on my part,’ he murmured close to my ear. ‘She was quite star-struck.’

  ‘All of this was a smart move on your part.’ I turned to face him. ‘Whatever happens, you should be proud of what you’ve started.’

  We grinned at each other for a second – a mutual appreciation society – until a car horn distracted us. A camper van had just pulled up and disgorged a group of scruffy-haired surfers in board shorts and hoodies.

  ‘I didn’t even know there were this many people in Brightside Cove,’ I said, watching the crowd spill on to the sand and some set up camp on the rocks to the left of us.

  ‘There aren’t,’ Jude replied with a chuckle. ‘That lot wearing walking boots are the local history society. The women on the rocks with the notepads and wine are over from Brixham on a writing retreat. There’s the University of the Third Age brigade, the WI, the drama club from Thymeford, some of my colleagues from social services. Plus, I’ve seen fishermen, ex-coastguards, those surfers as well as all the village residents.’

  Theo and Kate weren’t coming. They’d apologized for not supporting us but understandably said that they had so much to catch up on that they were going to take advantage of the house being empty for a couple of hours. There’d been some squeals from the bathroom when I’d left. Say no more.

  ‘And the media is here.’ I pointed out the intern from Devon Sounds, a blonde-haired, generously built girl who was flitting excitedly from group to group recording soundbites to broadcast later on. She was wearing huge headphones and shoving a big furry outdoor microphone in people’s faces. There was a photographer from the newspaper too, taking down names and snapping away at groups of people.

  ‘We could actually do this, you know.’ He laughed, his eyes shining with determination. ‘When the council sees how much support we’ve got, how can they continue with the auction?’

  ‘Exactly, they’d be fools,’ I said with as much vigour as I could muster. As long as Campion Carmichael hadn’t got there first …

  ‘Oh, there’s my brother Archie!’ I waved to him. He waved back but he didn’t join us. He seemed to be looking out for someone.

  Jude was called away to pose for selfies in the middle of an exuberant group of women who I could only imagine were the football mums. I stood alone, running over my speech in my head. Welcome … good cause … heart of the community … irreplaceable part of history. I muttered the words under my breath, conscious of the rise in my pulse rate at my impending moment in the spotlight. Between us we had managed to gather an audience and it was my job to get the message across. I wanted to do Jude proud.

  An elderly couple, a man in a wheelchair with a lady pushing him, hesitated at the top of the slipway, clearly unsure as to how to get down. I held my breath for a second: the little old lady was only slight, one false move and the pair of them would end up in the sea. I started towards them just as Jude spotted them too and we ran up the slope together to help.

  ‘This is Nora and Ned,’ he said, introducing us as he came to a halt and applied Ned’s brakes.

  ‘From the pretty cottages!’ I said, shaking hands with them both. ‘My favourite view in Brightside Cove.’

  ‘View’s not bad from here, either, eh Jude, lad,’ Ned sparked, grinning up at me. He was tucked under a multi-coloured crocheted blanket and seemed to only have one leg.

  Nora rolled her eyes. ‘Doesn’t get out much, you’ll be glad to hear.’

  ‘Haven’t been in there for years,’ said Ned, jerking his head towards the boat house. He had an unlit pipe poking out of his mouth, a weather-beaten face and a rascally grin. ‘Brings back memories, eh, Nor?’

  Nora fiddled with a small St Christopher medallion around her neck. ‘Out in all weathers, he was. He might be a nuisance these days, but at least I know where he is.’

  ‘Ned is one of the only original fishermen left in the village,’ Jude explained.

  ‘Did you go out on the lifeboats too?’ I asked, fascinated.

  ‘Oh yes, we was all volunteers back in the day. Saw some terrible accidents in my time. Mind you, not as terrible as losing the boat house would be. And look.’ He delved under his blanket and brought out a large iron key. ‘I can let us in if it rains. That’s where me and Nora used to do our courting.’

  He caught my eye and winked.

  ‘I thought I was a widow on more than one occasion,’ said Nora fondly, smoothing a wispy strand of white hair down on her husband’s head.

  ‘I’d have been in there like a shot.’

  Jethro had joined us and snaked an arm round Nora’s waist.

  ‘Oi, get round the front where I can see your hands,’ Ned grunted.

  The three old people erupted into laughter.

  I was flabbergasted by this exchange. I’d never seen Jethro so cheerful; he was like a different person.

  Jude crouched lower to speak to Ned. ‘Are you
sure about saying a few words?’

  ‘Sure?’ Nora chuckled. ‘He’s been writing his speech for two days, you’d think he was accepting an Oscar.’

  ‘I’ll say a few if you like,’ Jethro said darkly. ‘Bugger off, tourists. There’s three.’

  That was the Jethro we knew and loved.

  ‘Grumpy old sod,’ Ned chortled.

  ‘Don’t call us, Jethro,’ Jude grinned, ‘we’ll call you.’

  I glanced up at the sky; rain seemed unlikely, thank goodness. There was a thin layer of cloud, but the sky was white rather than grey. The air was completely still and the sea was as flat as a mill pond.

  Ned caught my eye. ‘Looks calm, don’t it? Don’t be fooled.’ He tapped his nose. ‘I can smell a storm brewing.’

  Let’s just hope the storm he was referring to would be in the sky and not with the council, I mused, glancing at my watch.

  ‘It’s nearly noon,’ said Jude. He glanced up to the road nervously. ‘And still no sign of the woman from the council.’

  ‘Don’t panic,’ I soothed, ‘the council will never miss a PR opportunity; they’ll be here.’

  ‘Hmm, I might just phone and check.’

  He wandered off again just as Molly arrived with Ellis strapped into his child seat on the back of her bicycle. Archie gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and shook hands solemnly with Ellis. I waved and the three of them walked down to meet me, Ellis between them swinging a yellow bucket and spade.

  ‘This feels good.’ Archie tipped his head back and filled his lungs with fresh Devon air. ‘I already feel better. I love being on the beach.’

  ‘Ditto,’ I agreed, watching Ellis fling himself to the ground and begin to dig with a vengeance. ‘There’s something about being so close to the sea. I feel mellow and at home.’ Far more than I did in London, I realized.

  ‘Must be in your blood,’ said Molly, looking from Archie to me. ‘With a Cornish name like Penhaligon, you must have the sea in your veins?’

  ‘We don’t really know much about Dad’s side of the family,’ I said, shooting a sideways glance at Archie.

  He scratched his nose. ‘Granny Bev lived in Cornwall. So Dad probably was Cornish.’

  Bev. I’d even forgotten her name. My heart thudded. What else did he know about our family that he hadn’t told me?

  ‘Where exactly was that?’ I probed while he was in the rare mood for sharing.

  He shrugged. ‘I can’t remember; I can’t have been more than six or seven the last time we went. The beach we used to visit was always crowded, busier than here.’

  ‘Not difficult,’ Molly put in.

  I felt a tug of frustration; why had he never mentioned this before? But then I supposed he’d answered the other night; he didn’t want to remember Dad.

  ‘There was a steep walk down to the beach, as I recall,’ he said, frowning as he combed through his memories. ‘I think we went once before you were born and then again afterwards. You’d have been three or four.’

  I swallowed. No wonder my memory of it was so patchy. Happy but vague. ‘I do remember something about it. Dad was great fun, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Oh look.’ Archie dropped to the sand and picked up a small shell. He handed it to Ellis who looked less than impressed, understandably. I rolled my eyes at my brother’s pathetic attempt to change the subject.

  Ellis dropped it into his bucket politely. ‘Thank you. Mummy,’ he said, tugging on her sleeve, ‘can I collect some shells?’

  He looked adorable today in a Batman outfit: a grey and black jumpsuit with a gold printed belt and a big bat on his chest. A tiny cape fluttered behind him as he bounced on the spot excitedly. It had clearly been bought with growing room in mind; it had been folded several times at the ankle and cuff and the crotch hung down almost to his knees.

  ‘Yes I know,’ she said, catching my eye. ‘Not exactly the ideal outfit for the beach, but I couldn’t be bothered to argue. He starts school in September and will have to wear a uniform every day. He might as well enjoy his freedom while it lasts. Only thing is if he needs a wee – which he will – the whole lot will have to come off.’

  She bent down and pulled the Velcro tightly across the front of his trainers. ‘And no getting wet,’ she shouted after him feebly as he headed straight for the shoreline. ‘Fat chance,’ she added softly.

  ‘I remember collecting shells on that holiday,’ I began again, challenging Archie with my stare, ‘and skimming stones. Do you?’

  Archie stood, hands on hips, watching Ellis race straight into the sea and out again. He snorted softly. ‘You were rubbish. Dad spent ages trying to show you how to flick your wrist.’

  He picked up a flat stone and tossed it in a skimming motion across the sand.

  ‘I can skim stones.’ Ellis was back panting and only a bit wet.

  ‘How many bounces can you do?’ Archie grinned at him. ‘Shall we see if you can beat me?’

  ‘YES,’ said Ellis with a roar of delight.

  ‘Is that okay with you, Mummy?’ Archie gave Molly his best winning smile.

  Molly nodded. ‘You might want to take those posh shoes off, though.’

  ‘Good point.’ Archie slipped off his brogues and stuck his socks inside them, handing them to me.

  Ellis immediately did the same, abandoning his socks straight on to the damp sand.

  ‘Can I show you my best rock pool?’ he said eagerly. He slipped his small hand into Archie’s trustingly and they trundled off to the water’s edge.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘And later, can me and Mummy dig a hole and bury you so just your nose sticks out?’

  ‘Er … maybe not today. I don’t think we’ll have enough time.’

  ‘My daddy is very busy. He’s building houses so he can’t play with me today. Are you too busy to play with me?’

  We couldn’t hear Archie’s reply but we did hear Ellis’s answering laugh. We exchanged looks.

  ‘If Archie thinks the way to my heart is through Ellis,’ Molly muttered, not taking her eyes off them for a second, ‘he’s smarter than he looks.’

  ‘Hey, it’s the Siren Sisters!’ Eliza whooped. She dropped her bag and threw her arms round us both. ‘Can you two come and shield me to give me some privacy round the back of the boat house? I thought I should be a mermaid for this and I need to get changed. Damn, I should have brought three outfits.’

  Molly and I looked at each other. Yeah, damn.

  ‘Privacy,’ Molly scoffed.

  ‘With this crowd?’ I added.

  ‘Good point.’ Eliza cringed, focusing on the heaving mass of people. ‘Well, we’ll have to do something. Being a mermaid might be about body confidence, but I don’t want to overshadow today’s meeting.’

  ‘Your bum’s not that big,’ Molly sniggered.

  Eliza whacked her with her shell bra.

  ‘Hold on, I’ve got an idea,’ I said.

  I ran and begged the key off Ned and beckoned the girls to follow me.

  ‘Poo!’ the three of us chorused when I pushed open the door.

  Inside it smelled of fish and damp wood. There was a lot of bird poo on the concrete floor and the remains of a bird’s nest wedged high up in the roof. It was mostly empty except for a small wooden rowing boat in need of a new coat of varnish. There were coils of old rope in the corner, shelves of various sizes along both long walls and a set of metal steps which led up to a mezzanine level. The row of slatted windows either side let in a muted light and the roof with its sets of wooden beams gave an ecclesiastical feeling to the building.

  ‘Never been in here before,’ said Eliza. ‘You’re right; it would be a fab place for my ladies to change in. We could put mirrors over here and a little curtain like in a clothes shop.’

  ‘Does Jude realize how much work it will take, I wonder,’ Molly mused.

  I left them chatting and walked to the staircase. At about chest height on one of the steps was a glossy A4 folder with Mernick’s, The South West’s
Premier Auctioneers embossed in gold across the front. That was the company in charge of auctioning the boat house. Whoever had been here must have left this by accident. I flicked through the pages and out fell a business card: Campion Carmichael, Artist.

  My stomach quivered with nerves. It looked as if Campion had wasted no time in arranging a viewing of the boat house, which meant he really must be interested in it. Thank goodness Maxine was keeping him occupied today; the less information he had about our plans the better.

  I shoved the card in my pocket just as one of the big double doors at the front of the boat house opened a crack and Jude’s head appeared.

  ‘Katrina Berry from the council is here; I think we should get started. Oh sorry, Eliza.’

  Eliza squealed. ‘Nearly ready.’

  Jude quickly averted his eyes as she wriggled the pink and orange tail up over her bikini bottoms, straightened her clamshell bra and hastily wedged on a shell and ribbon headdress. She bunny-hopped forward, sending her boobs jiggling and grabbed on to Molly for support. Jude didn’t know where to look. Again.

  ‘Could take me a while,’ she laughed.

  ‘I can offer you a fireman’s lift,’ he said doubtfully.

  ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ I said with a giggle, pointing at the little wooden boat.

  It was a brilliant way to start our public meeting: we launched the boat with Eliza in it through the doors and a short way down the slipway. The assembled crowd instantly stopped chatting and began to cheer and clap at the brightly coloured mermaid with pink hair waving demurely as she reclined in the boat.

  ‘Right,’ Jude nudged me forward. ‘You’re on.’

  I stepped forward, took a deep breath and smiled. Everyone fell silent.

  ‘A warm welcome to everyone, the people of Brightside Cove, the communities who will benefit from this beautiful building in decades to come, the ladies and gentlemen of the press and especially Katrina Berry who joins us from South Devon council …’

  Jude led the crowd in another enthusiastic round of applause at her name.

  And then I gave my speech about the way in which the building had nobly served its community in the past and the many ways we hoped it would do so in the future and that with everyone’s support and some strategic, long-term thinking on the part of the council, we could achieve wonders.