Fern Britton 3-Book Collection: The Holiday Home, A Seaside Affair, A Good Catch. Fern Britton

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      ‘And you want me to drive you?’

      ‘Me and Trace and Maz.’

      ‘Only if you pay me for the petrol.’

      ‘But it’s Mum’s car.’

      ‘Yes, and she’ll ask me to replace the petrol.’

      ‘Oh, all right, we’ll split it.’

      The party was on the beach. A hot August night. A huge moon hung fully in the heavens surrounded by a carpet of bright stars.

      As soon as Pru got to the beach road, her three passengers leapt out and disappeared while she was left to park.

      When she got down on to the sand, there was no sign of her sister or her mates. She collected a tin of cider from a trestle table and mooched around the outer circle of the party. Pru knew a few people, who nodded to her, but no one came forward to chat. She found a cool piece of clean sand and lay down to watch the stars. Back then she used to love searching for satellites as they tracked their way across the heavens.

      A soft Cornish voice broke into her solitude.

      ‘Can I join you?’

      She turned her head, feeling the sand shift beneath her. He was wearing sawn-off jeans and a Debbie Harry T-shirt. His face was in shadow, but she could see the outline of curly hair.

      She sat up. ‘Be my guest.’

      ‘I’ve been watching you.’

      She felt a little scared and turned towards the party to see if she could glimpse Connie.

      ‘It’s all right. I’m not a nutter. Mind you, if I was that’s exactly what I’d say, isn’t it?’

      Pru laughed nervously.

      ‘I thought you looked like someone I’d enjoy talking to, that’s all.’ He smiled and in the moonlight she made out kind sea-green eyes, nice lips and slightly wonky but very white teeth.

      ‘Oh.’

      He sat down next to her and rolled a cigarette. ‘Want one?’

      ‘No, thank you.’

      ‘Good girl.’

      There was silence for a while as he sat gazing at the moonlit waves gently breaking on the sand. Pru thought she had never seen anyone so gorgeous.

      After blowing a series of smoke rings, he turned to her, holding out his hand: ‘Merlin Pengelly.’

      She held it. Rough and coarse but clean and strong. ‘Prudence Carew. How do you do.’

      He laughed. ‘Oh, a posh girl! I’ve never met a Prudence before.’

      ‘Well, my family and friends call me Pru.’

      He looked at her steadily and took another draw of his cigarette. ‘Got a boyfriend, Pru?’

      She wasn’t sure how to answer this. The true answer was no, but under the circumstances she didn’t want to look an idiot. ‘Oh, you know.’ She shrugged. He shrugged too.

      ‘And what do you do, Pru Carew?’ He smiled.

      ‘I’m at university.’

      ‘Posh and clever.’

      ‘Don’t make fun of me.’

      ‘I’d never make fun of a girl like you,’ he said softly. He stood up and held a hand out to her. ‘Want to go for a walk?’

      She smiled up at him. ‘OK.’

      They moved away from the main party and walked and chatted and laughed together until the first streaks of dawn were visible on the horizon. He told her he was a lifeguard for the summer and in the winter he’d do some labouring. He was Cornish born and bred. In return she told him about the courses she was taking for her business degree, the family firm and Atlantic House. Hoping that he might come and find her. ‘I’m here all hols,’ she said.

      She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so comfortable with him, but when she finally got home to Atlantic House and her bed, it was his sea-green eyes fringed with sunkissed blond lashes that burned in her memory. His freckled nose bending towards her, slowly blurring as he gently kissed her goodbye. The feel of his warm hand holding hers as she left to go and find Connie, Tracey and Marion. He had stood and watched from the sea wall as she drove away. She prayed he would come and find her.

      *

      More than two decades on, an older, wiser Pru smiled ruefully at the memories. Merlin had taught her a lot about life. But that was a lifetime ago. She had moved on – there was no changing the past.

      When she reached the top of the cliff above Figgoty’s, the beach below was deserted. Pru scrambled down the steep and awkward path. Some of the rocks were slippery, but she remembered the hidden footholds and managed to jump the final six feet on to the smooth sand below. Only the locals knew about Figgoty’s; no visiting families encumbered with pushchairs and windbreaks would dare make the tricky descent. The beach was sheltered by the huge natural curve of the cliffs. The sea here had a deep swell and the undercurrents could catch out the most seasoned of swimmers. It was here that she and Merlin used to escape on his days off. They would take their clothes off and lie naked on the sand before racing each other into the water and enjoying the pleasure of the cool waves running off their warm skin. She hugged herself.

      Why not? she thought. No one can see from the cliff. She pulled her sensible Marks and Spencer hoodie over her head and stepped out of her Rohan shorts. After another quick look to make sure there was no one watching, she slipped off her bra. Placing everything neatly on a dry rock, she ran across the sand and into the icy sea. What would Francis say if he saw her now? Maybe she’d bring him down here when he felt better.

      Pru didn’t stop running until she was up to her shoulders, then she took a deep breath and ducked under a breaking wave. When she surfaced, she floated on her back and looked up at the periwinkle sky. It felt so good to be this liberated and unencumbered, she couldn’t help laughing out loud. Turning back on her tummy, she swam through the breakers and out to where the sea was smooth. Again she lay on her back and felt the sun warming her front. Presently she heard another kind of splash over the sounds of the sea. An oar. She flipped over and saw a man in a sea canoe coming ever closer to her. He hadn’t seen her … yet. What should she do? She bobbed quietly, her nose just above the water. He was less than six feet away now and when he saw her he almost dropped his oar.

      It was Merlin.

       11

      Connie wondered if she could find the entrance to the cave in the wooded valley after all these years. She’d asked Greg to join her on her walk, but he was busy with emails. Though she made a show of disappointment, secretly she’d been relieved to take the walk on her own. She desperately needed to get out of the house and think about her unsettling row with Pru the other night. The appearance СКАЧАТЬ