Summer at the Cornish Cafe: The perfect summer romance for 2018 . Phillipa Ashley

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       CHAPTER SIX

      I knew it had to happen. I knew it was coming but that doesn’t lessen the pain or make it any easier to take. I brush my fingers over the embossed script, and the handwritten insertion of my name. It sounds so formal and so final. Did Isla write it herself – or her mother? I can’t believe it was Luke’s idea but maybe I don’t know him any more.

       WE’RE ENGAGED!

       Isla and Luke

       invite

       Mr Calvin Penwith

       to celebrate their engagement with them

       On Saturday June 25th

       from 7 p.m.

       At Bosinney House, St Trenyan

       RSVP to Isla Channing

      The date is more than two months away, which makes me feel that Mrs Channing has had a hand in the invites. She obviously wants to send a signal out to the world that Isla and Luke are officially together. She never liked me and perhaps I don’t blame her if she thought I was making Isla unhappy by trekking off abroad all the time.

      Perhaps Luke wants to send me a signal and formalise the engagement. Last night, all I could think about was Luke lying in bed with Isla and contrasting it with the times I lay with her in the barn here at Kilhallon, and in the warm dunes and the cool cave on the beach.

      I’d been with her on that last night before I went to the Tinner’s Arms for a farewell drink with my mates. Luke had warned me that evening to tell Isla how I felt but I’d held back. I thought she already did know without me saying it and as for marrying her, I thought we were too young, that we had years to do all that stuff when I’d got back from the Middle East. I could never have married her then, I told myself, until I’d at least tried to help the people I saw on the news and the internet. How could I sit here at Kilhallon, in my comfortable home, doing nothing, when I had the skills to help those people? What kind of a man would I be? What kind of a husband and father …

      Two years is a long time to wait; when you’ve hardly heard a word and when you think all hope is lost. But the irony is that it was the thought of Isla that kept me going through the long, dark days and months. A few times, I’d have topped myself if it hadn’t been for her, when things got too terrible to bear.

      I can’t tell her the truth, of course, the reason why I was away so long and why I couldn’t contact her for the past few months. When I first went on my trips abroad I used to send her ‘vintage’ postcards – my retro joke – but on my last assignment, there were no cards to buy or even shops still standing in most places. It was a miracle if I could get a decent signal or Wi-Fi or even access to a computer and, if I’m honest, I’d been so wrapped up with my work I sometimes didn’t have a moment to even think about home. When you’re dealing with people in a life or death situation, your priorities tend to change but I should have made more effort. Perhaps I can’t blame Isla for thinking I wasn’t interested any more. Then, when I finally wanted to speak to her, and had time on my hands at last, it was impossible.

      I slam the lid of the laptop shut and throw the invitation on the floor.

      Is it really too late? Maybe I should ride over to Bosinney now and speak to Isla on her own? If I see her face to face, I can let her know how I feel and change her mind. The study door slams behind me as I hurry out to the yard.

      ‘Cal, can you come and look at this tractor?’ The mechanic from the garage calls over to me.

      ‘Not now, mate.’

      ‘But it needs a new clutch. It can’t wait any longer.’

      ‘Not now!’

      ‘OK but it’s your funeral.’ He folds his arms. ‘And without a working tractor, you won’t be able to do a lot of the work you’ve planned here.’

      ‘OK. Good point.’ After I’ve heard Baz tell me how much work the tractor needs and how much it will cost, I seek solace in the stables with the one creature that doesn’t seem to have changed, and who is waiting patiently for me. At least Polly made sure my horse, Dexter, was taken care of while I was away, even if the park fell down around her ears.

      Dexter snickers softly and stamps impatiently as I tack him up. I mount him and catch sight of Demi with a clipboard, in front of the admin block. I asked her to do some research on other resorts and give her opinion on what facilities she thought we needed and how the park should look. She’s no expert but that’s what I wanted: a fresh pair of eyes to view this place as if she might love to come on holiday here herself.

      Have I done the right thing in bringing her here? She’s a bright girl and she’ll probably be out of here in a year, maybe less. She’ll want more than I can offer her.

      Demi glances up from her clipboard and waves at me. She looks really happy and I’m glad but I don’t wave back. I act like I haven’t been watching her, and I don’t really know why. Perhaps I still haven’t got used to people reading my emotions. I’ve had to suppress them for so long, just to survive.

      With a kick on Dexter’s flanks, I urge him to a gallop along the coastal path. If I ride until the land ends, maybe I can ride Isla out of my system.

      At the milestone, I spot a dark hunter galloping over the moor towards me. I’d know Robyn’s horse anywhere, and the rider’s style. I urge Dexter on and our horses both meet by a ruined engine house.

      Both of us are breathless and laughing. ‘Hi, Robyn,’ I say when I’ve got my breath back. ‘I could tell it was you from miles away.’

      She pushes a lock of purply black hair back under her helmet. Her face is pink with the sea air and the effort. ‘Have I improved?’ she asks.

      ‘You’ve got worse, if anything.’

      She leans over her horse and hits my arm. ‘That’s harsh and anyway I can tell you’re way out of practice … ouch, sorry, great big foot in even bigger mouth.’

      ‘There’s no need to tiptoe around it.’

      ‘I know but it must have been tough helping people out there and then you come back and found out about Luke and Isla. They’d only just told us.’

      So Robyn notices more than she lets on. ‘It’s fine. Well, not fine …’ It’s hopeless lying to my cousin; she knows me too well. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to turn up like that though I did try to warn Isla. I’m sorry I shocked you and Uncle Rory though by crashing his birthday do.’ I pat Dexter’s silky mane, avoiding Robyn’s eyes. ‘How was Isla after I’d left the party?’

      ‘What СКАЧАТЬ