Page 75 of A Secret Cornish Wish
‘That’s enough now,’ Mack says firmly, looking down at him. ‘I deal with guys three times the size of you several nights a week in my bar. Claire?’ he asks again. ‘What would you like to happen now?’
‘I think you should both go,’ Claire says, looking with pity at her husband lying on the cobbled street. ‘I’ll be fine, honestly.’
Jonathan pulls himself to his feet. He attempts to glare at us as he brushes himself down.
‘Now,’ Mack says, addressing Jonathan. ‘We’ll expect to see Claire at the funeral tomorrow. In fact, Frankie and I will personally be calling in the morning to escort her.’
Jonathan hobbles towards his front door and pushes past Claire.
‘And Jonathan,’ Mack calls after him as he tries to disappear down the hall.
Jonathan turns.
‘If I see one bruise on Claire tomorrow. Just one. I won’t be quite as polite when I come calling next time. Understand?’
Jonathan growls something and turns away again.
‘Claire.’ I go over to her. ‘Are you—’
‘You have no idea what you’ve done.’ Claire looks tearful. ‘Please just go. Thank you, Mack,’ she says, turning to him. ‘I’m sorry you’ve got dragged into this tonight.’
Mack just nods.
‘Come on, Frankie,’ he says gently, trying to guide me away. ‘Let’s do as Claire wants. We’ll call for you tomorrow, Claire. Around ten-thirty, all right?’
Claire nods, then she backs through her doorway and closes the blue door.
I stand staring at the door for a moment.
‘Frankie,’ Mack repeats. ‘We should go. We can’t do anything more tonight.’
Reluctantly, I nod.
‘Would you like to walk for a bit until you’ve cleared your head?’ he asks. ‘Or shall we go back to the pub?’
‘A walk sounds like a good idea. I’m not ready to face the others’ questions just yet.’
‘Lead the way, then.’
We walk down the street a little further until it branches out into a car park and then into a large area of greenery, which in turn leads up a hill towards the cliff edge.
I’m grateful to Mack that he doesn’t try to force the conversation. I’m still trying to process what just happened, and I need time to think.
It’s breezy out, and my long hair blows around my face as we get nearer to the sea. I reach into my pocket, but I haven’t brought a band with me.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Mack asks, after we’ve walked for a bit without saying an awful lot. ‘Claire?’
‘Yes, mostly. I was actually just thinking that I wished I’d brought a hairband with me,’ I reply as yet again I’m forced to push my hair away from my face. ‘I usually carry one, but I didn’t expect to be walking out here tonight.’
Mack smiles. ‘As you can see, I don’t have that problem.’ He gestures to his wavy brown hair, which seemed floppy in the pub, but now is blowing back off his face so I can see all his features in more detail. Mack is actually quite handsome, my mind registers momentarily, before my hair is blown across my face once again. But Mack reaches into his jacket pocket and produces, to my surprise, a hairband with a little pink bow on it, surrounded by three tiny shells.
‘Why on earth do you have that?’ I ask, staring at his hand. ‘Do you have children?’
‘No, two nieces. I often end up with all sorts in my pockets after a day spent with them. Although I don’t actually remember how I came across this particular item?’ He stares at it a little puzzled. ‘Here, take it. You have more use for it than me.’
I take the band and tie it loosely into my hair to make a ponytail. ‘Thank you.’
We stand for a moment looking out over the sea, the moon still lighting up the waves as they roll in over the sand.
