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

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СКАЧАТЬ when you’ve got all your own stuff around you.’ He hesitated. ‘Take a look at the view out to the west.’

      They took their mugs to the window.

      Wow. The sun had come out while Jake had been showing her round and the space was now flooded with light. The flat had windows on all four sides: one at either end of the gable and two large Velux lights in the roof that gave views of the sky. The glass was sparkling and she guessed Jake had cleaned the windows earlier that day. His efforts had paid off because what greeted her made her breath catch in her throat. She wasn’t that high up but the elevation was enough to reveal a sensational vista over the beach towards the open sea on one side and the harbour on the other.

      ‘You can watch all the comings and goings at the harbour and jetty from here,’ he said. ‘And that way, to the west—’ he pointed with his free hand ‘—there’s nothing until America. Unless you count the lighthouse and a few Stone Age ruins.’

      Poppy gazed beyond the headland that marked the western extremity of St Piran’s, to the other low islets floating in the sea. In the far distance was little more than a large rock with a white lighthouse on it. She could feel the warmth from the late afternoon sun through the glass against her skin.

      ‘That’s the Bishop Rock.’ Jake pointed to the west. ‘In Grandpa’s younger days, he said it was manned and people used to hitch rides with the supply boat to shout hello to the keepers. He painted a picture of it in a storm – it’s in the gallery downstairs.’

      ‘I can’t wait to see that. I’m not surprised he was inspired by it. Imagine living out there with only the seals and gulls for company. Are the seas round here dangerous?’

      He hesitated before replying. ‘If you don’t respect them, they’re lethal. There are literally hundreds of shipwrecks. Some of the Spanish Armada foundered round here way back.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘So they say. You should visit the figurehead museum on Tresco if you like that sort of thing. They all come from wrecks.’

      He said it almost sarcastically, so she guessed he considered the museum a touristy thing to do. She hadn’t actually been to the museum on her previous trip, however, and resolved to go there soon but not to let him know.

      The floorboards creaked as he moved away from the window but she stayed where she was. She craned her neck and looked the other direction to the harbour where a few yachts and workboats were moored. The sea looked calm within the harbour but she had an inkling of how wild it could be from her journey here.

      ‘If you want to have a little time to yourself, I’ll make myself scarce. I have some calls to make, so when you’re ready, come over to the cottage. You can’t miss it. It’s right there.’ He pointed to a stone house about fifty yards up the beach facing the harbour. ‘I’ll sort out some bedding and a few other things you might need and I’ll arrange for the bed to be repaired as soon as possible.’

      ‘Thanks. I’ll manage for now on this floor mattress.’

      She glanced at the bare mattress again and thought of the shoddy state of the gallery beneath her feet. Great light and amazing view or not, she still had a huge amount of work to do to get her home and business up and running. Jake must have noticed the anxiety on her face because he spoke gently to her.

      ‘Look, you’ve taken a huge step and had a rough time. It will get easier, I promise you.’

      ‘I’m sure I’ll settle in when I get to know people,’ she said, embarrassed by his sympathy.

      ‘I meant that being on your own would get easier. At least, you’ll come to terms with it.’ He sounded bitter and as if he really did understand her. Whatever had happened with his fiancée must have caused him terrible pain.

       Chapter 6

      Jake cursed silently as he jogged down the stairs and out of the studio. That was all he needed: the new tenant turning up on her own and almost bursting into tears of horror when she saw the studio. And – deep joy – a bloody collapsing bed.

      He didn’t blame Poppy for being upset at what had greeted her. In fact, he’d have probably felt exactly the same. Even if she hadn’t been on her own, she had every right to be annoyed and dismayed about the condition of the gallery and flat. The fact that she’d just made a life-changing step only made things ten times worse.

      He’d recognised her within a few moments of her stepping off the St Piran’s jetty. He’d had no reason to connect her with the new tenants, of course, as he’d never known her name. His reaction, after the initial surprise, had been a mixture of memories – good and bad. The bad ones had nothing to do with her, and yet he couldn’t entirely separate them.

      He walked the short distance to Archie’s cottage, turning over the contrast between that summer’s day and now. Poppy was imprinted on his mind as a bubbly, thoughtful woman whose enthusiasm for life he’d once shared. She still came across as warm, if understandably a little defensive at times, and she was every bit as attractive, with her soft brown curls and those blue eyes, but her face was pale, probably as a result of a rough crossing on the Islander and sleepless nights before that.

      He’d no idea what had happened between her and Dan, although from his five minutes’ acquaintance with the man, he’d have bet his new Canon on Dan having been the guilty party. Poppy seemed like a decent person to him. She also had a sense of humour, from the way she was giggling when she fell on the floor. She’d definitely need that over the coming months.

      He’d half wanted to take out his camera and photograph her, which had been a bizarre thing to think. The comment about her knickers had made him smile to himself. He also remembered her reaction when he’d run after her with Grandpa’s painting on that hot August day that seemed like yesterday but also a century ago. Even then he’d felt a connection with her and had warmed to her instantly.

      Grandpa Archie had noticed her looking at the painting and drawn his own conclusions about her. Jake couldn’t help being reminded of that day. He’d only popped in on his way to meet Harriet at the St Piran’s boatyard, where she’d gone on ahead while he told Archie where they were taking the yacht. The Hotspur had been bigger than the dinghy that Archie now owned; obviously, he’d sold it after Harriet’s death.

      Once again, the events of that day slammed into him.

      ‘I’m in a hurry, Grandpa. Harriet’s waiting for me. She’s getting the Hotspur ready to sail and I don’t want to let her do it all herself.’

       ‘If you’re heading that way, run after that couple who were in here. Pretty young woman with brown hair and a pink T-shirt. She’s with that chap in the orange shirt. You can’t miss them. Give this picture to the girl. Not to him, mind, he’s a bit of a know-all, but I can see she fell in love with it.’

       Jake took the hastily wrapped picture. ‘You’re a big softy, Grandpa.’

       Archie’s eyes twinkled. ‘I know, but that’s why you love me.’

      Jake had grabbed the picture and fled out of the studio past Fen, who told him to be careful on his sailing trip. He’d caught СКАЧАТЬ