Page 127 of A Secret Cornish Wish
‘Good meds,’ Rob says quickly. ‘I told you I was with one of the best.’
‘But still . . . ’
‘Frankie, when it happens, it happens. And I don’t want you being miserable for longer than you have to be. By all means, mourn me for the appropriate amount of time . . . ’ He winks. ‘But then get on with the rest of your life – with Mack. My two best friends owe me that at least.’
I nod. But it’s so hard hearing Rob talk like this. I can’t bear it.
‘You will always be my first love,’ I say, trying to control the wobble in my voice. ‘Always – like the song. Remember?’
‘Bon Jovi – of course I remember.’ Rob takes my hand. ‘That’s when I first knew how special you were when I saw your T-shirt that night.’ He squeezes my hand, and I have to dig my nails into the palm of my other hand to try to stop myself from crying.
‘I may have been the first, Frankie, but I was never going to bethe one. I think we both know that. Sometimes it takes people a long time to find the one, but I think you have now. Keep each other safe, and love each other as if each day is your last. Because you never know if it might be.’
And as we gaze out at a view we’ve looked upon so many times together over the years, we both hear the familiar splash in the water below. But this time, we don’t need to look down. We simply gaze at each other.
Thirty-Seven
‘I’m so pleased you like it,’ I say happily, as later that afternoon I’m back in my shop showing Muriel, the lovely old lady who commissioned me to paint Morvoren Cove for her, her new piece of art.
‘It’s exactly like I asked you to do it,’ she says, gazing up in awe at the painting from the chair I found for her to sit on. ‘The detail is amazing, and I see you’ve put all the mermaids in there for me.’
Muriel had been at Eddie and Dexter’s wedding, although I can’t remember seeing her there. Apparently, she used to work at the café with them as a waitress many years ago before she retired and moved away. She admired my painting, as many of the other guests had that night, so when she decided she wanted a painting of her own, she got my number from Eddie.
Although she was quite loose about how she wanted me to depict the cove, she was very specific about the placement of several mermaids she wanted in the painting. They were partly hidden, so you had to look quite hard at the painting to find them, just as in Eddie’s picture. But if you knew where to look, you could find them easily.
‘Of course, just like you asked.’
‘Do you know much about mermaids, Frankie?’ she asks, turning away from the painting to look at me. ‘They’re very interesting creatures.’
‘Not a lot,’ I reply. ‘But me and my friends called ourselves the mermaids when we were at school.’
‘Did you? How interesting. Why did you choose that name?’
‘I don’t know really. Probably something to do with a show we put on when we were dressed as mermaids. It was a very long time ago now, though.’
‘How lovely. I imagine you looked wonderful.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ I smile. ‘But we had a fun time.’
‘I bet you did. I’ve always been fascinated by mermaids. I used to sit and watch for them in the cove when I was a girl.’
‘And did you ever see any?’ I ask, playing along. I should really be shutting up the shop now, but I get the feeling Muriel wants to chat, and she’s been so lovely about the painting I haven’t the heart to try to move her on just yet.
‘Oh, yes, many times,’ Muriel says to my surprise. ‘Very enigmatic creatures they are. You know some people say they are the sea’s version of angels.’
I want to stop Muriel and ask her more about seeing mermaids, but she’s already moved on. ‘But whereas angels leave white feathers as their calling cards, it’s said a mermaid will leave a shell when they’ve visited you.’
I stare at her now.What did she just say?
‘Are you all right, dear?’ she asks. ‘You look a little pale. Do you want to sit down?’ She goes to stand up, but I stop her.
‘No, no, please, you stay seated. A shell, you say?’
‘Yes, like a calling card. You must know the story of St Felix’s mermaid?’
‘Oh, yes, my friend told me when we were at school. Erm . . . it’s something to do with a maid who stole some jewellery from Tregarlan Castle and tried to pass it on to smugglers in a barrel, I think. But she got very drunk before she was able to send the jewellery out into the waves, fell into the sea and drowned, and that’s why the pub in St Felix is called the Merry Mermaid, because of the myth.’
Muriel smiles. ‘Yes, that’s the story that’s developed over time. I feel that’s a lot to do with marketing the pub to unsuspecting holidaymakers, though, and less to do with the real mermaids of Morvoren Cove.’
