Page 35 of The Little Cottage by the Cornish Sea

‘Time? It’s been years and I’m completely incapable of doing what I loved best. I did everything but write. I even became a bloody farmer just to get away from all the memories I can’t bring myself to face. Maybe I’m incapable of fully healing.’

‘Of course you’re not. You just need to believe in yourself.’

‘Believe in myself? I get stage fright at the mere thought of it. I can’t ever go out there again, knowing that somebody somewhere still believes I’m guilty of murdering my wife.’

That shut me up quick.

‘If I never appear in public again, I’ll be happy. But I know I want to write songs. I want to write songs with all my heart, but fear just grips me and I can’t move, I can barely breathe. I can’t do it, Kate.’

‘Then maybe you should write without thinking about performing it to other people,’ I suggested.

‘What do you mean?’

I thought about it for a minute. To write from the heart. That would be my dream.

‘Just write for yourself,’ I said. ‘Forget about what it’s going to sound like or what get-up you would have worn with the song, or even the fact that you’re writing something completely different.

This is a new you, Piers. You’ve turned the page and put it all behind you.

What you’ve been through, all the hatred and all the uncertainty. You’ve come such a long way.’

He fixed his eyes on me as if I was speaking the gospel. In a way, everything I was saying was new to him, revealing a different world, another truth he wasn’t aware of.

‘I think I might have a job for you,’ he said.

I chuckled. ‘Another one?’

‘This one is a one-off. I’m thinking of writing my autobiography. Showing the real me once and for all to dissipate the mist of Blade. And all the money will go to charity, even if it sells just one copy.’

‘Are you saying that you want me to help you write it?’

He nodded. ‘You’re not the only one around here who can use Instagram. I found your page. You are brilliant, the way you portrayed other artists, showing their real side, but respectfully. Can you do the same for me?’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course. And I want to title it just like the song I’m working on: Stripped .’

‘You’ve got yourself a deal!’

‘Perfect! And now, enough talking about the past. Let’s get out of here and get some fresh air, if you fancy it?’

‘Sure,’ I said, taking his outstretched hand.

We drove for about ten minutes before we reached Predannack Wollas, a National Trust site on one of Cornwall’s most beautiful coasts.

‘Did you know that if you visited a Cornish beach every day, it would take you more than ten months to see them all?’ I cried out over the wind as I stood on the cliffs.

Piers, who was unpacking our picnic basket, laughed. ‘How did you know that?’

‘My dad told me when I was little. I wanted us to move down here, but we never did.’

‘And look at you now, living the dream…’

I turned and grinned at him. ‘I am! Thanks to you, too!’

‘So am I,’ he said, getting up to put his arms around my growing bump. ‘You’ve turned my life around. I don’t know what spell you’ve cast on me but I’m as bloody happy as I’ve ever been!’

It was true. Things were going well. Baby was fine, work was interesting and Piers was amazing.

He spoiled me rotten, to the point that I realised that I’d never been treated like this by a bloke before.

And he did it regularly, as it was the most natural thing in the world.

I had missed out on so much all those years I wasted with Will!

But now I intended to give and get my rightful share of love and happiness.

*

One early October morning, I found Piers in the dining room, barefoot and unwashed, his hair sticking out in every direction, his face as if he’d seen a ghost from his past.

‘Piers, what is it? What’s happened?’

He looked up at me, startled as if he hadn’t seen or heard me come in. His eyes were bloodshot, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d have said he was drunk or high. But I knew that look. It was grief.

‘It’s my buddy, Decker, from the band,’ he sobbed. ‘They found him dead last night. Overdose.’

I sank to my knees and took his hands. ‘Oh, Piers, I’m so sorry…!’

And with that, I pulled him into my arms and held him tight, rocking him back and forth. As many times as I had done that with Will after a bad day at the office, this felt incredibly different. This was me comforting my love, who was mourning the death of an old, dear friend.

He swiped at his eyes as he tried to overcome the shudders that wracked his body. ‘I don’t know how many times I begged him to stop, that it was going to kill him. I couldn’t save him, Kate. I can’t save anyone.’

‘Piers, there was nothing you could have done.’

He kept going as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘I tried, you know? God, how I tried, especially with Jenna. And yet, I’m here, alive, while they aren’t. I don’t deserve to be here…’

‘Piers, stop talking like this now. You are a beautiful musician, and a wonderful human being. You deserve to be happy, and alive .’

But he went silent and closed his eyes, shutting me out.

Of course, there was nothing I could say.

So after a few moments I moved to get to my feet, to fetch him some water or a cup of tea, something that might help to soothe him.

Without opening his eyes, his hand reached out and caught mine, tugging me back down toward him.

I obeyed and he wrapped his arm around me, burying his nose in my hair.

‘You are good, Kate,’ he whispered. ‘You’re… I’ve never…’

‘Shh,’ I whispered, caressing the stubble on his face and he held me tighter.

‘I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life.’

‘Me neither. You’ve given me hope,’ I whispered in earnest. ‘I never thought I could ever be happy again.’

And yet, here I was. I was deliriously happy. I kissed him tenderly, trying to infuse it with all the gratitude I couldn’t hope to convey with mere words. After a few moments, he pulled back, breathless.

‘I want to build a nursery and get some rooms for your own personal interests: a dressing room, a playroom, a reading room, whatever you need. Because I want to be this baby’s father. I love you, Kate.’

Piers wanted to share his life with me and my baby. This generous, kind-hearted man wanted to build a family with me. ‘Oh, Piers… ’ I croaked, and he took me in his arms again as my own tears threatened to spill. ‘I love you, too.’

‘You see the effect you have on me. You give me hope. I know that with you by my side, I’ll be able to face anything life throws at me. And we have so many plans to make.’

And then the conversation turned to daily, run-of-the-mill things.

I told him that I was still up to working because it gave me my sense of independence.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that Piers was filthy rich while I had absolutely nothing to my name.

I was aware that love could end, and I needed to make sure I would be okay.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘Well, I need to be independent in case something happens.’

‘What’s going to happen?’

‘You and I… this… could end one day.’

His eyes widened. ‘Is that what you think?’

‘No, of course not,’ I assured him. ‘But I know from past experience that we never really know what the future holds. You might get tired of me one day and where will that leave me? I don’t want to be left with nothing.’

Piers nodded. ‘Okay, that makes sense. I totally support you being independent But, honey, I want you to know that you don’t have to be all the time. You and I are solid. Yes, we haven’t known each other that long, but this is a growing together process, right?’

‘Okay.’

‘And please don’t think these sad thoughts. Know that I will never tire of you. You, on the other hand, are dealing with a washed-out rockstar who has his moods. Are you sure you want to take him on?’

‘You bet,’ I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

‘Sold,’ he murmured, reaching for the hem of my skirt.

*

As the weeks rolled by and I got bigger and bigger, Piers and I became more and more solid.

His kindness was endless and I knew I’d finally found the one for me.

Someone who would always love me and cherish me.

It was a heart-warming feeling knowing that, just like my Coastal Girls, I, too, had found my own little corner of paradise.

One late grey morning that promised a storm just before lunch, Piers came in as I was chasing up our shipments, his face livid. ‘Kate. Have you seen this?’

And with that, he held up his mobile before my face. I jumped back, an uneasy, familiar feeling creeping into me. Nevertheless, I looked at the screen. Something had upset him deeply, and I needed to know what it was.

It was my old Instagram channel, Where Are They Now?

‘Hi, this is Kate Miller, and you are watching my newest episode of Where Are they Now? But first, please like my channel so I can get more of these episodes to you. Thanks!’

It was an old segment, from the year before.

And then the screen was filled with images and footage of Piers as Blade, along with his band, Kyllyx Attica as captions filled the screen:

You guys are not going to believe this, but this week’s segment is on the disgraced leader of Kyllyx Attica who disappeared in a cloud of infamy when his wife was found shot dead in the pool of their LA mansion.

Believe it or not, we have finally found his hiding place: the tiny Cornish Village of Starry Cove!