Page 29 of Will You Stay Another Day?
Tommo held his mug with both hands. ‘I get it, gal. Apologies too. I should have known better, after losing Joe. Life couldn’t continue as it had been but it took me a while to realise that. Helping out here was part of my plan to forge a new life.’ His mouth drooped at the corners, his Cornish craic gone for a moment.
Lili got up, walked around the table, stood in between them and gave both of her friends a side hug. ‘Right. I’ll pull out the Christmas decorations. Who wants to do the tree? Meg, you were great at spraying the front window last year.’
Two hours later, they left the shop as Jill arrived, rain spitting now, the air smelling of gingerbread from a passing vape. Tommo stood with his motorcycle helmet under his arm. The three of them glanced back and admired their work. It was one of the last shops in Mevagissey to embrace the approaching Christmas season. Meg had sprayed a reindeer on the window. In the corner of the shop Tommo had methodically dressed the tree with colour-coordinated baubles, all equidistant to each other. Lili had hung shiny foil decorations from the ceiling. They’d already erected a stand displaying Christmas cards several days ago.
Tommo left, whistling ‘The Way You Look Tonight’. Lili’s heart squeezed as she thought about that festive secret of his that she’d discovered. His pride might be hurt if she mentioned that she knew about it. Meg walked off in the direction of the chippy, too hungry to wait for the cottage pie her gran had made earlier in the week and frozen. Lili waved goodbye to Jill through the window and then took a different route to the car park, the long way around, heading down to the harbour first. She stopped as the sea water came into view and breathed in the slightly fishy smell that she’d found so off-putting when they’d first moved here. Now she appreciated it – a pleasant change to Manchester’s smoky fumes. It was the second largest fishing port in Cornwall but was in constant need of funds to repair and protect it in the face of climate change and severe weather. An array of moored boats bobbed up and down, as if a secret disco was taking place under the ocean. Lili turned the corner and went to sit down on one of the benches facing the water. A man sat there, collar up.
‘Callum?’
His lips upturned ‘Hi, Lili. Late night at the shop?’
‘We’ve been decorating, ready for the festive season. How about you? Fancied some fresh air?’
‘Just taking some time out. Boy, my pupils were restless today. Always gets like that during the weeks running up to Christmas.’ He inhaled. ‘I grew up by the sea and sitting here, feeding the gulls, eating ice cream, it reminds me of the good times with my school mates. They really were some of the happiest days of my life. It’s comforting in a way, if I’ve had a hard day, to come down here to the harbour and have a chuckle about old frivolous memories. Us throwing chips down for the gulls, and hoping to spot the girls that we fancied, pretending to push each other into the water, and arguing about who supported the best football team. Sounds a bit mad, I know.’
‘Not at all. It’s funny the things that make memories stick. Like my friend Em’s car, that’s mine now.’
‘The mustard Mini? You’ve driven past my place. I live in a ground-floor flat and sometimes we’re outside in the garden. That car is difficult to miss.’
‘There are lots of memories in that Mini, even though it’s small, as I drive along familiar routes.’
‘Good memories mean a lot, don’t they? When the present is tough. I’m still reeling from my divorce. Worried about Jack. Worried about money. Thinking about happier times keeps me moored to sanity!’ His cheeks flushed. ‘Guess that’s why I’ve held on to so much old stuff.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Anyway, listen to me blathering on.’
‘Is Jack at a friend’s tonight?’
‘Yes, he’s got a sleepover – unsuitable name for it because he won’t get any sleep at all!’
Callum and Lili said goodbye. She walked along the pavements sparkling with frost and headed back to Colonel Mustard, got in and ran a hand over the passenger seat. How she missed sitting there, in charge of changing the mixtapes and passing Em her Starbucks when it was safe to take a sip.
Lili started the engine and switched on the mixtape that she hadn’t removed since last year. ‘Pink Cadillac’ by Bruce Springsteen came on. Lili hummed to it, tapping the steering wheel in time with her hand, nodding her head. Whenever this came on, Em would insist Colonel Mustard was as sexy as any fancy motorcar.
She was about to drive off when a text flashed up on her phone.
Looking forward to seeing you Sunday. Why not come over earlier, say one, for a roast dinner? It’s no fun eating alone. The address is the same as the business one I gave you. Mine’s the house on the immediate right of the warehouse. C u then! Dylan
A meal? At his? A more intimate setting? Lili could do that. Sure. No big deal. It’s not like anything was going to happen. She’d explain that her visit was a one-off, that the shop had a continuous stream of donations and didn’t need extra.
Their business arrangement and what was effectively a friendship would then be well and truly over.
19
Lili hadn’t driven to Devon often since moving to Cornwall. Her new home had everything she needed – coastal walks, her very own seal, cream teas just how she liked them, and a robin for meaningful conversation. However, she had been walking in Dartmoor and found the landscape breathtaking. She’d also visited a heritage site, of which there were many. Today was the first time she’d been to Tavistock and what a beautiful market town it was with unique shops and classical architecture – a wrong turn had taken her through the centre. She also saw the River Tavy. Dylan’s place was on the outskirts. She drove past a suburban estate and then turned onto a main road. A couple of miles along, Lili turned right, passing semi-detached homes that faced woodland. At the end was an industrial area with two big vans parked outside and a large warehouse with a visible office.
The address she’d been given was the last semi. She parked up on the road outside and got out, greeted by a rejuvenating breeze. Lili carried a bag. Making a crumble didn’t mean a thing. Bringing a dessert was simply polite. The house stood out from its companions along the road, with their neat borders, mowed lawns, with the hanging baskets and garden ornaments. Dylan’s lawn was full of moss, the borders straggly and overgrown. In a large ceramic flower pot, a half-dead plant had wilted. As she walked up the drive, the front door flew open and Dylan shouted hello, wearing an apron that said ‘Eat if you dare’.
‘Another present from Harry?’ she asked and entered the hallway, head down, to avoid him kissing her cheek. She passed the bag to him and wrapped her arms around her body, pretending to be cold, not wanting to risk being swept into a hug. Walking past a row of sports shoes, she followed him into the kitchen. The smell of roasting chicken welcomed her in and her shoulders relaxed. Lili, stop being so uptight, she told herself.
Dylan placed the bag on a magnolia worktop and ran a hand over the apron. ‘How did you guess? This one’s from abroad. Harry kicked off his travels by going to a mate’s wedding in the US. Apparently, Texas, I think it was, is the capital of barbecues.’ The kitchen was large, with a small pine dining table matching the cupboards. A wide window looked out onto a back garden that was as untended as the front one. He picked up the bag and peered inside at the crumble, wrapped in clingfilm, squirts of purple juice across its surface. His face broke into a smile.
‘A favourite of mine! Cheers, Lili. Let me guess… apple and blackberry?’
‘Correct.’
Water bubbled on the hob and he went to the fridge and took out a bag of vegetables he’d clearly prepared earlier. Dylan waved it in the air.
‘Sprouts okay?’
‘I love it when they come back into the shops every Christmas. Can I help?’
