Page 79 of A Summer Scandal

‘Have you seen Cal yet?’

Violet shook her head. ‘He’s probably there somewhere. I haven’t really looked.’

She sensed Keris’s sidelong glance and chose not to look at her. The lie was so flimsy it was see-through, but indifference was all she had. She’d looked for him, she just hadn’t managed to spot him yet.

‘He’s at the fourth table back behind the candelabra,’ Keris said.

‘Who with?’ Vi cursed herself silently, wishing she’d had the strength not to ask.

Keris breathed out. ‘He’s brought Ursula.’

Vi swallowed hard, nodding. ‘Okay. Thanks.’

That was pretty categorical, then. He’d brought his wife to an event on the pier. Onherpier. It would have been less effective if he’d slapped her face. Trying not to show how much it had wounded her, she smoothed her hands down her dress and checked over her shoulder to make sure Charlie was in eyesight. He was having a whale of a time helping out the caterers who’d set up base in his mum’s studio, moving the chaise to the side to turn it into a makeshift prep kitchen for the evening.

’Shall I switch the fairy lights on yet do you think?’ Vi had been looking forward to the big switch-on since the electrician had strung them all up for her that morning. She’d called the enterprising guy who’d sent her his card in the mail recently, and despite the early hour she’d asked him to come to the pier. He’d been great at helping her bring her vision to life. Lighting up Swallow Beach Pier was one of the images she’d pictured in her head ever since she’d first set eyes on it.

Keris wrinkled her nose. ‘Give it a little while, you want it to make everyone goooh.’ She craned her neck to look outside as someone tapped the microphone outside and cleared their throat to get everyone’s attention. ‘Looks like the show’s about to start.’

A hush fell over the gathering and Barty came through with a plate of cake in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other.

‘Bloody good stuff this,’ he said, raising his glass, then balancing it on the coffee machine so he could inch the door open and listen to the goings-on outside. Vi and Keris moved either side of him, and he looked from one to the other and then smiled softly to himself, the smile of a blessed man.

Charlie joined them a little later, standing alongside Violet to watch the category for ‘Artisan Metal-worker of the Year’, his eyes round and his fingers crossed tight. Vi swiped away a rogue tear when a delighted Beau came up to collect his award, and spotting Charlie by the door, dashed over and pulled him through the door to high-five him, laughing.

Violet made a mental note to remember that Lucy, Beau and Charlie would never have met if it wasn’t for the pier; despite Hortensia’s tale of doom and gloom, in her own experience it had given more than it had taken away. So far, anyway.

The awards presenter announced a half-time break after Beau’s presentation and the waiters flowed through the doors with bottles to top up everyone’s wine glasses and desserts to round off everyone’s appetite.

Inside the birdcage, Violet drew Barty to one side.

‘There’s something I need to do,’ she said. ‘Will you trust me, Barty, and come with me?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Anywhere, darling.’

She reached out for his hand. ‘Come with me.’

Five minutes later, she’d led Barty around the balcony that edged the birdcage, a slender strip of wood just wide enough to walk on. They held onto the filigree metal railings, and came to a standstill when they were completely out of sight of the party.

‘It’s lovely out here, isn’t it?’ she said, looking at her elderly companion.

He nodded. ‘I spent many an evening out here with your grandmother. Stargazing. Talking.’ He shrugged.

Vi didn’t want or need him to elaborate. It was one of her favourite spots too, just the vastness of the sea ahead, no anchoring glimpse of the shore behind.

‘She never had a proper funeral,’ Violet said. ‘I looked into it after you raised it, and her ashes were left for safekeeping with Swallow Beach funeral directors.’

‘Oh my love, I’m so sorry,’ Barty said, in turmoil. Vi wasn’t sure if he was talking to her now or her grandmother forty years ago. He turned frightened eyes to Violet. ‘Did you find out what happened to the ashes?’

She sighed. ‘I went to the undertakers, Garland and Sons?’

Barty nodded, clearly familiar with them. ‘I taught Maria Garland to waltz for their wedding many moons ago.’

‘Well, I saw Stuart, and he found the record of my grandmother’s ashes in the 1978 ledger, and then tracked them down in their unclaimed ashes collection in the cellar.’

A look of abject misery crossed Barty’s face. ‘She was so close all of these years and I didn’t know.’

Vi shook her head, keen to assuage his guilt. ‘You couldn’t have done anything. It needed to be next of kin who collected the ashes, or family at least.’

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