Page 29

“Hmmm.”

They walked arm-in-arm along the street, turning when they got to the corner to walk along the promenade.

“So,” said Pen after a few moments of silence. “Cal?”

Lucy groaned. “Please don’t tell me she’s a terrible person or a cat-hater or… or a vegan or something.”

“The only Cal I know is Callan Roberts,” Pen said. She sighed. “I’d heard she was back in town. Her mother, Pam, passed a few months back.”

“I remember,” Lucy said. She sort of did. The town had been sad, there’d been a funeral, but she hadn’t been. “I thought it was a bit… odd at the time that I didn’t really know who she was.”

“Pam?” Penny breathed in warm sea air. “Poor thing had dementia. There were carers in and out, and the rest of town did what we could. But in the end it was probably a mercy. Didn’t remember a thing at the end.”

Lucy felt sorry about that, sorry that anyone met their end in such a way. But she had more pressing personal issues to deal with. “So, um, Cal then?”

Pen laughed. “You don’t need to worry. Cal’s a decade younger than me, you won’t be treading in my footsteps there or anything.”

Lucy shrugged. “You have good taste, I wouldn’t mind if you’d dated.”

“Well, we didn’t,” Pen said. She sucked air in over her teeth. “But, well, Cal’s relationship with town is… shall we say fraught?”

“Yeah, I’d sort of figured that,” said Lucy, grateful that Pen hadbrought it up so she didn’t have to directly ask. “People don’t like her much.”

Pen stopped walking. “Come on, we’ve got a few minutes before we’re really running late. Have a sit down on this bench and look at the sun on the sea. Maybe it’ll inspire you to paint something magical and get that residency you want.”

“What does fraught mean exactly?” Lucy said, as Pen steered her to a bench and they both sat down.

“It means exactly that, fraught,” said Pen. “And before you start giving me the third degree, this really isn’t my story to tell.”

Lucy sighed. “Somehow I knew you were going to say that. Not especially helpful.”

“You hate gossip,” Pen pointed out gently.

“I know, I do. But… but she’s so close-mouthed about herself, so shut off, and I can’t help but wonder what went on.”

“Then ask her. If she wants to tell you, she will.”

“It’d be easier if you told me,” Lucy said.

“You want me to woo her and sleep with her for you too?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “No, obviously… just…”

“It’s not my story to tell,” Pen said again. “You two should talk if it’s important to you.”

“Do you hate her as much as everyone else?” This was important. What Pen thought about people was important. She trusted Pen’s judgment.

Pen sighed and shook her head. “I always thought she was a decent girl. A bit of a tear-away, but not a bad person. I don’t think she had anything to do with what happened, but then, I can’t see any other explanation either, and I’m not infallible. Maybe I misjudged her.”

“So you don’t hate her?”

“I don’t hate anyone,” Pen said. “Let alone someone who practically got chased out of town. And even if she did do what everyone says she did, she still deserves a second chance. We all do, we all make mistakes.”

Lucy looked at the light dancing on the waves. “And that’s as much of an explanation as I’m likely to get, isn’t it?”

Pen nodded. “I’m an open book about myself. But I’m not sharing other people’s business.”

“Fair enough.” Lucy cleared her throat. “But if I, uh, brought her around sometime, that’d be alright?”