Page 56 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay

‘Oh, my God, oh, my God,’ Peggy whispered, under her breath, as a brimming champagne flute was thrust into her hand. Then to Paul– who was grinning from ear to ear in another of his bright Hawaiian shirts– she said, ‘Honestly, Paul, what have you done? This is amazing.’

‘Ted’s idea. We thought you could do with a bit of a treat,’ he said modestly.

Sienna came up and gave her a brief hug– quite a privilege from someone so resistant to social niceties. ‘Welcome,’ she said, eyeing Peggy up and down appraisingly. ‘Good dress,’ she conceded, with an approving smile.

It seemed as if everyone was there. She spotted Gen and her dad, Jake and Bunny Pascoe talking to Tina, but she couldn’t see Emerald.

She noticed Gary from the post office and his two strapping teenage sons– did he have a wife?

She wasn’t sure. Gina was there with a man who must have been the boyfriend Liam had mentioned, talking to Tommy Hicks from the bakery, who had his arm round his pretty, diminutive wife, Kerry.

There must have been upwards of thirty-five people laughing and chatting on the lawn.

Some were now her friends; others she knew well from daily life in the village.

As Peggy greeted Quentin and Rory with hugs, she glanced around to see if she could catch Felix’s tall figure in the crowd.

She was relieved to find she couldn’t. Not that Felix had done anything wrong– he was as much a victim of Lindy’s illness as she and Ted were– but, still, tonight she wanted to put all that behind her and not be reminded of the previous tormenting weeks. It felt too raw.

‘Was it a proper surprise?’ Quentin was asking, bringing her back to the present. She could see her friend was taking a childlike glee in the proceedings, his hands clasped together as he smiled up at her. ‘Or did Ted blather?’

Peggy laughed. ‘Not a word. He looked as if he was about to burst. But I had no idea what about.’

Quentin clapped. ‘Perfect! I chose the jerk chicken, by the way,’ he added proudly, waving his hand towards the industrial sized barbecue smoking away in the centre of the space, laden with sizzling, mouth-wateringly golden-brown chicken pieces.

A trestle table stood alongside it, covered with a white cloth.

Peggy glimpsed a tempting array of side dishes: rice and beans, grilled pineapple, mango salsa, potato salad, kale and orange salad.

‘Irie worried the jerk seasoning might choke us weak-throated folk. But I put her right,’ Quentin said.

Paul’s mother, whom Peggy had met only briefly in the past, was a very thin, upright woman, who looked quite severe until she smiled.

But she still remembered with pleasure her sticky ginger and apple cake from the day when the power had gone out at the farm shop.

The next few hours were a whirlwind of laughter and socializing in the glow of the setting sun.

Flares were lit on the periphery of the lawn as the light faded, candles in glass covers dotting the small tables set out for supper, a vibrant, eclectic playlist, from Simon and Garfunkel to Bowie to the Killers and Gnarls Barkley’s ‘Crazy’ setting a mellow tone.

Peggy got tipsy quite quickly, but the champagne served to settle her nerves and she found she was loving every minute, spinning here and there as yet another person came up to wish her a happy birthday. She felt like the luckiest woman alive.

No one mentioned the emails or Lindy’s part in them– which was pretty much common knowledge in the village now– except Bunny Pascoe.

‘Happy birthday,’ Bunny said, smiling, as they stood side by side in the supper queue, spooning chicken and salads onto their plates.

She nudged Peggy. ‘Told you those emails were sparked by jealousy.’ She didn’t wait for Peggy to answer, just glided over to the drinks table, where she helped herself to a glass of red wine.

‘Oh my God, look!’ Peggy exclaimed, later.

She watched as a large, square slab cake was being ceremoniously carried out from the depths of the farm shop on a wooden board, Paul on one side, his mum the other.

It was dark and glistening, clearly a version of the beautiful ginger cake that she and Quentin had scoffed so enthusiastically that morning.

Baked around the glossy surface there were crunchy, sugary apple rings– in the centre the words Happy Birthday Peggy piped in pale, swirly, butter-cream icing.

Irie and Paul laid it down carefully on the trestle table, from which the salads had been cleared by the farm-shop helpers.

Tubs of vanilla ice cream and bowls of frothy whipped cream sat alongside the cake.

Paul beckoned Peggy over from where she sat with Ted, Quentin and Rory, Shona and Pam– Quentin at his amusing best as the wine took hold.

When Peggy and Ted were beside him, Paul clapped for silence. There was an expectant hum from the guests, the odd laugh, before the party fell quiet.

‘Okay,’ Paul began, his voice rich and confident– he was a performer, after all.

‘We’re here tonight, obviously, to wish Peggy a happy birthday …

But we’re also here because bad things have been kicking off in our beautiful bay.

And I thought it was a plan to celebrate, remind ourselves that we can survive anything if we rise above it, always stick together.

’ He opened his arms to the crowd in an expansive gesture, his smile as wide as the sky.

‘So please raise your glasses to Peggy and Ted… and to our beloved Pencarrow Bay.’

Whoops and cheers followed his words. Everyone was clapping, standing and clinking glasses with their neighbours, lifting them towards Peggy, Ted and Paul.

Peggy’s eyes met Ted’s, his hand clasped round hers.

Even in the half-light, she could tell he was moved.

They exchanged a private smile, which said it all and seemed to encompass the hugeness of the love they felt for each other.

A love that had been threatened, but which had withstood the test. What would have happened if I’d felt I couldn’t live in the bay?

she wondered. If Ted had felt he couldn’t leave it?

She brushed the thought aside, a shiver running up her spine.

Ted was nudging her. ‘Say something? Your night.’

She froze. Unlike Paul, she was not a natural public speaker.

But she knew she had to rise to the occasion.

Breathing in, she hesitated for a long second, then began, ‘I can’t thank you enough, Paul, Irie, Sienna– and Ted, of course, for dreaming this up– for a truly amazing party.

I feel quite overwhelmed that you did this for me.

’ She swallowed the emotion that threatened.

‘As you may know,’ she addressed the crowded tables, ‘retirement hasn’t come naturally for me.

I’ve taken a bit of time to settle into my new life here.

But I was beginning– thanks to my new friends– to believe I could ease myself into your wonderful community.

Then everything went very wrong. And I worried you would believe the lies…

I worried I had no future in this magical place. ’

A rapt silence greeted this. She saw the sympathetic looks in the eyes turned to her.

Her voice took on a more upbeat note. ‘But, hey, I’m going nowhere.

’ The odd cheer rang out. ‘No one in Pencarrow– well, almost no one– has treated me with anything but kindness and friendship, despite my fears. Even in the face of apparent evidence of my bad character, you took my side unquestioningly. So bless you for that.’ She chuckled.

‘But it wasn’t your kindness that finally swung it for me.

It wasn’t Pencarrow’s spectacular scenery or our revered mermaid– although both have played their part.

It wasn’t even my gorgeous partner, Ted.

’ She turned to Paul’s mother. ‘It was Irie’s unbelievably scrumptious ginger and apple cake! ’

This brought the house down. There was an explosion of applause, laughter and chatter. Irie hugged her. Paul hugged her. Ted embraced her too.

Peggy felt suddenly exhausted. She clung to Ted. ‘Looking forward to home,’ she whispered.

It was much later that Peggy and Ted strolled slowly hand in hand along the lane, both glowing from the wonderful evening they’d enjoyed.

It was peaceful in the darkness after the noise of the party, the sea breeze swirling around them, cooling Peggy’s flushed cheeks.

They didn’t speak much, both too tired, but she found, as they reached the house, that she wanted to keep on walking.

It felt too soon to end such a perfect day.

‘Do you mind if we potter on a bit?’ she heard Ted ask, obviously in tune with her thoughts. The moon had come out from behind a cloud, burnishing the tarmac and the hedges lining the lane in a silvery light. It was magical.

When they reached the car park where Henri sat, shuttered and silent, Ted, still holding her hand, guided Peggy around the walls of the castle to the bench that overlooked the bay.

The view was spectacular. The sea was black as night into the distant horizon, except for a swathe of moonlight bathing the water silver.

Clouds drifted lazily across the moon, creating a shifting filigree pattern on the surface; the lighthouse stood white and proud on the headland; the lights of the village twinkled below, the distant glow of Falmouth lacing the far shore.

Peggy sat down on the cold wooden bench, shivering slightly in her thin dress.

Ted tucked in beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his body warm against hers.

As she watched the seascape in awed silence, something important suddenly dawned on her.

It had been that moment at the party when she’d addressed the throng.

She, Peggy Gilbert, loved being part of a community.

Surrounded by all those faces tonight, knowing they were on her side…

it had meant something. Because all her fears, since the poisonous email dropped into Sienna’s inbox, had not materialized.

The locals hadn’t shunned her. Neither had they pointed the dreaded finger.

Her city-dweller self had always somewhat scorned the notion of community.

But now she understood that being part of one didn’t mean being friends with everyone in it, all the time.

She had gravitated to a few people with whom she felt a connection– like everyone else in the village.

But the wider community now saw her as one of them. How lovely is that? she thought.

Ted’s voice interrupted Peggy’s thoughts. Very softly, almost hesitantly, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss he delivered to her palm– warm and oh-so-tender– was accompanied by these words: ‘Will you marry me, Pegs?’

Sleepy and relaxed, thoughts elsewhere, Peggy jolted, thinking she must have misheard.

Marriage had never really been discussed seriously between them.

Not because they weren’t properly committed to each other.

It just didn’t seem to mean that much to either of them– or perhaps meant too much, in Ted’s case.

But now, hearing his question and feeling her heart contract with love, Peggy knew it did mean something to her, after all.

A great deal , in fact, especially after the uncertainties of past weeks.

She turned to him. In the moonlight, she could tell his expression was slightly anxious.

So it means a lot to you too , she thought, with an inward smile.

‘You are the love of my life, Ted Trefusis. So I say yes, of course I’ll marry you.

’ Any other words she might have been about to add were smothered by a long, lingering, blissful kiss.

‘That’s a relief, then,’ Ted said, as he drew back. And they both began to laugh, then to cry, then to laugh again as they rocked together, just a little tipsy still from all that delicious champagne, in each other’s arms.

Pencarrow Bay watched on. Morvoren too, with her usual serenity.

Colin the seagull blinked a beady yellow eye from his perch above the Samson George.

A small crowd of piskies chuckled in the cool night air.

Silent but approving, they all gave their blessing to Peggy and Ted, and their desire to tell the world– formally– that they would love each other for ever… until the day they died.