Summer on the Little Cornish Isles: The Starfish Studio. Phillipa Ashley

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СКАЧАТЬ haven’t you? She’s going to be running the studio.’

      ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Winston, shaking Poppy’s hand. ‘Again.’

      ‘You too.’ Poppy smiled.

      ‘Poppy was asking after her stuff. Do you know when the Herald will be here with the freight? I’m out of the loop where timing’s concerned?’ said Jake.

      ‘I was told it would be here by now …’ said Poppy, crossing her fingers and wondering how she was going to get to grips with the names, functions and schedules – or lack of them – of all the different inter-island boats and ferries. There appeared to be dozens of them, all with their own mysterious routes and purposes.

      Winston gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘I hate to bring bad news, but I’ve just heard on the radio that the Herald has engine trouble. She’s under repair in St Mary’s and nothing major is getting across to St Piran’s from the harbour today.’

      ‘Oh. Oh f—’ Poppy resisted the urge to swear and say that if there had been room for half a dozen beer kegs, why couldn’t her crate have been squeezed onto the passenger ferry.

      ‘When do you think the Herald will be operating again?’ Jake asked.

      Winston shrugged. ‘Her skipper was trying to make arrangements for another boat to bring the freight over. It might be this evening or it could be tomorrow.’

      Poppy groaned. ‘All my bedding, clothes and bits and pieces were in the shipping crate. I haven’t even got a spare pair of knickers with me!’

      Jake and Winston exchanged glances.

      Poppy squeezed her eyes shut in horror. Why, oh, why had she said that?

      ‘I’m afraid that’s island life for you,’ said Jake, clearly struggling to hold in his laughter.

      Winston grinned. ‘Not to worry. Your stuff should be here by the weekend.’

      She gasped. ‘The weekend? Shit. Sorry – but what am I supposed to do without clean clothes until then?’

      ‘I expect Fen can lend you a pair of her drawers,’ said Jake, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

      Poppy squeaked. ‘It’s not funny!’

      ‘I’m sure it isn’t. It sounds very serious, but take no notice of Winston. He’s having you on. The skippers will sort it out between them and I bet the whole lot will get here first thing in the morning.’ Jake smiled and, despite her indignation, Poppy glimpsed the sunlight behind his eyes for a moment. ‘Joking apart, don’t worry. Fen and I will try to loan you anything you need tonight – um … most things anyway.’

      ‘I’ll ask around at the quay in St Mary’s and give you a bell,’ said Winston, still smirking.

      ‘Thanks.’ Poppy forced herself to sound cheerful. ‘I told myself to be prepared for glitches like this, but I can see it’s going to take a lot of getting used to.’

      ‘This is only the start of it,’ said Jake and Poppy was sure he wasn’t joking.

      ‘Oh. I see what you mean.’

      If Poppy hadn’t been carrying her shopping, she’d have dug her nails into her palm to try and avoid blubbing when she followed Jake inside the Starfish Studio. Jake had warned her not to expect too much, but he’d been right when he said things had changed. In fact, she was finding it impossible to equate the damp, cold space around her with the vibrant gallery she remembered. The photos on the agent’s website must have been years old.

      She put her bags down. Jake went in ahead of her, so she couldn’t see his face and maybe that was what he wanted. ‘I’m sure it can be sorted out and if you really feel that the place isn’t as advertised then I know my grandfather wouldn’t want you to feel forced to stay.’

      ‘I’m staying,’ she declared and her words echoed off the walls. Oh, the walls … they weren’t the cool white backdrop she remembered; they were discoloured, chipped and peeling. That was only the half of it. Most of the display plinths were empty and the stock that was left was hardly appealing. Oh God, was that a collection of crocheted toilet roll dollies by the cash desk?

      Jake followed her to the loo roll dollies. He winced. ‘Sorry. I should have cleared those away. They must have been made by one of Fen’s friends and Grandpa obviously didn’t have the heart to chuck them out. Or maybe Fen sneaked them in when he wasn’t looking as a favour to her mate. They’re not really in keeping with the gallery, are they?’

      ‘I don’t want to be a snob,’ said Poppy. ‘Or offend anyone but …’

      ‘It’s your gallery and you have to have your own vision for it. You can’t stock every piece that someone offers you and if that means ruffling a few feathers, then so be it.’

      He switched on the lights. Despite it being only five p.m., the place seemed dull and the overhead strip light only served to highlight the shabby walls and fittings.

      ‘I can see I’m going to have to redecorate.’ She was thinking aloud.

      Jake moved by her side. ‘That sounds like a plan.’

      ‘And I think we’re going to need new stock.’

      ‘Definitely,’ said Jake. ‘I can help you sort through some of Grandpa’s paintings,’ he added more brightly. ‘There were several boxes of them in the work area and I wasn’t sure which he wanted to put up for sale. Shall I phone and ask him for you?’

      She swung round. ‘Yes. Thanks. I very much still want to sell your grandfather’s pictures. It’s wonderful and, after all, the studio’s reputation was built on Archie Pendower’s work.’

      ‘I think that’s what he was hoping,’ said Jake and gave her one of his searching looks. ‘Have you had much experience of running a gallery before?’

      ‘Does it look like it?’ said Poppy, then softened as she realised Jake wasn’t being sarcastic. ‘Some. I worked in a small studio at a craft centre during one of my uni vacations, but that was a long time ago, as you’ve probably guessed. I dabble in jewellery making as a hobby, but I’m not a professional. My last job was managing the PR for a building products company, so promoting gloss paint is as close as I’ve come to selling art recently.’

      Jake’s eyes crinkled. ‘At least you’re honest. Some people might have turned up, thinking they know everything about the business. I doubt the gallery trade has changed that much and if you’ve a realistic idea about the business and you’re ready to learn, that’s most of the job done.’

      She was sure he was being kind but also hoped he was right. ‘I’ve being doing lots of research over the past few months since we decided to move here. I talked to a lot of gallery owners and artists. I’ve already emailed half a dozen of the people who supply the studio and told them about my “exciting new plans”.’ She placed air quotes around the last few words with her fingers.

      He paused by the desk where Fen used to ring up the purchases. The same vintage calculator sat on the table, although the digital screen was dead. ‘Um, what did they say?’ he asked.

      ‘Only СКАЧАТЬ