Page 22 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay

They said goodbye and hurried up the hill in silence. It was only when they got round the bend that Peggy collapsed laughing, clutching his arm for support. ‘What the hell? That was hilarious.’ She glanced up at him, to see an offended expression on his handsome face.

Ted maintained the affront for another second. Then his frown dissolved and he began to laugh too. ‘God, I know. Sorry. I was trying to smoke him out.’

‘You sounded like a fifties headmaster!’

She was still laughing, but Ted’s face fell. ‘I don’t know what to make of him, Pegs. Do you? He seems like a really nice fellow. But we all know domestic abusers are famously charming to everyone except their victim. Even to them they’re often charming, of course.’

‘Yes. He could be hiding all sorts. He appears a bit soft, a bit bumbling, to me, rather than intimidating… Not the case with Lindy, though, evidently.’

‘And this scheme of his that he didn’t want to talk about,’ Ted added. ‘If he needs a lot of money for it…’

They fell silent as they walked, hand in hand. She loved his warm hand round hers and now she revelled in his closeness, which recently she’d been beginning to doubt.

‘She’s been so welcoming to Kim and the family, turning her life upside down to take them in– not sure I’d be so gracious if we had to live with our kids again!

’ Ted observed as Peggy retrieved the key from her back pocket and let them into the house.

‘Getting tutoring for Ada, for instance, and doing brilliant things like organizing today’s show.

Financially supporting them. Gordon isn’t even dead two years, but she bravely soldiers on.

That’s why it’s so unforgivable, what he’s doing to her. ’

Peggy nodded as she slipped off her shoes and wandered into the kitchen. ‘She really has been brilliant,’ she agreed wholeheartedly– although the awe in Ted’s voice struck an off-note, making her feel uncomfortable.

Ted glanced up at the kitchen clock, and hurried towards the stairs.

‘Oh, God, is that the time? Sorry, forgot to say, but I’ve arranged to meet a couple of guys who stopped by the van today.

They’re staying in that new-build down past the castle, the one with the wooden dolphin outside.

They wanted to go kayaking this evening and asked me to join them– I think because they haven’t a clue what they’re doing.

Kaz is organizing boats for us all. Should be fun.

It’s a perfect evening.’ Kaz was the woman who ran the kayak-hire business on the quay.

In her fifties, she was tall, wiry and weather-beaten, narrow as a drainpipe and a bit flinty in her manner, but an expert sailor and angler, who had rescued more than a few fledgling kayakers and paddleboarders, carried away by enthusiasm and a strong wind across the bay.

Peggy was disappointed and her face must have shown it because Ted said, ‘You don’t mind, do you, sweetheart?

I shouldn’t be late, but don’t wait supper for me.

’ He was bounding up the stairs before she could answer, coming down five minutes later dressed in cycling shorts, T-shirt and his turquoise sleeveless fleece.

He came over and dropped a quick kiss on her head as she sat at the kitchen table.

He turned away, then spun back. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. Have fun,’ she said.

With a final pat on her shoulder, Ted called goodbye and was gone.

For no reason Peggy could understand– she didn’t really mind that he was going kayaking– she felt like crying as she sat alone in the quiet house.

Something had subtly changed between her and Ted.

Where before there had been a continuum– they were always, effortlessly, on the same page– now it felt as if there were only pockets of togetherness, such as his hand around hers as they walked up the hill earlier.

And these were interspersed not just with physical absences but also moments of tension– such as at lunch– and insecurity that had not existed… before Lindy.

One lovely memory from a happier time popped into Peggy’s mind now– before they’d sold up in London, before they’d retired, before they’d changed what worked and moved to Cornwall…

Before Henri hove over the Bordeaux horizon.

It was a simple moment, no grand holiday or swanky dinner: a glorious summer day, just Peggy and Ted on the Heath with a picnic, cross-legged on a tatty old tartan rug that had belonged to her grandmother.

They’d known each other a couple of years at this point, but were still living separately.

‘What will be the things that annoy you, if we move in together?’ Ted asked lazily, as he munched one of the egg and cress sandwiches they’d picked up on the way, with a bottle of chilled rosé, two paper cups and some strawberries.

‘If?’ she teased, and they’d grinned.

Peggy had thought for a moment. ‘Well, judging from what I’ve seen of how you live, you’re not about to leave towels on a wet bathroom floor or pee over the seat or expect me to do your washing.’ She smiled at him. ‘On the domestic front, you’re unusually well-trained.’

This brought a snort of laughter from Ted. ‘High praise indeed from someone who leaves piles of clothes on top of the laundry basket rather than in it, and only cleans when the dust starts moving about in gangs around the furniture.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I am improving,’ Peggy insisted. And she had made a real effort to be tidier since meeting Ted, knowing it was important to him. When the boys had left and she lived on her own, what had it mattered if the place was a little messy? There wasn’t anyone to see it.

‘So what will annoy you, then?’ Ted asked.

She took a slug of rosé and thought about it. ‘Hmm, well, denial can be irritating. So, for example, I say, “You’re always late.” And you get upset and say, “That’s rubbish. When have I ever been late?”’

‘I’m never late,’ Ted objected.

To which she replied, ‘There you go,’ and they began to laugh.

Then he’d leaned forward and taken her face in his hands.

She’d gazed into his beautiful grey-green eyes, loving the warmth of his palms against her cheeks, the feeling of being held, being appreciated.

For a moment they were still, lost in their own world, despite the people wandering past. Then Ted had said, ‘Love you.’ Just that. No more… No less. Simple.

Now, Peggy got up and went to the fridge to see if there was an open wine bottle .

A fleeting thought spun through her over-thinking brain as she reached for the sauvignon.

Might Lindy, back from the show in Falmouth, seek out Ted again tonight– on the beach, on the sea road, wherever…

and would Peggy mind if she did? She shook herself.

It felt a little beneath her to be jealous of someone going through what Lindy was currently experiencing.

As she closed the fridge, she noticed the old biscuit tin, sitting on the worktop by the fridge.

The blackberry tarts . She had forgotten, in all the back and forth about Lindy, to give them to Ted.

They’re probably past their best now. The thought made her sad.