‘Divorce party?’ Ruan echoed. ‘Sounds, um, interesting. OK, I’ll call you and we can arrange something for tomorrow, maybe?’
She nodded, feeling she was smiling far too much. ‘Yeah. Great. Speak later.’
‘Good. Thanks again.’ He glanced down at his chest. ‘For the shirt and, um, everything.’
Then he was gone, a set of footsteps hurrying down the stairs.
Tammy hung back from her window, watching him jog out of the alley and along the seafront, presumably to the harbour car park.
She lingered there for a while, reflecting on how surreal her day had been. She’d known this man for less than an hour and yet she’d invited him to her flat, given him her father’s shirt and agreed to a date. When she’d woken that morning, she hadn’t even known what design to create as her father’s tribute, let alone that she’d meet this serious, geeky, handsome stranger.
She’d been determined that today would not be sad andwould mark a fresh start. It would be an end to years of feeling there was a more fulfilled life waiting for her somewhere just out of reach. Meeting Ruan, however, was a more dramatic fresh start than she had bargained for.
Maybe, just maybe, her dad was up there or somewhere in spirit watching over her and sending good vibes her way. Who knew? Tammy might have the soul of an artist, but she also had a cynical and pragmatic side. Otherwise, she’d never have survived the slings and arrows hurled her way over the past few years.
And Ruan was only a bloke. Just a glimmer of a spark.
She fancied him. Who wouldn’t? Despite the sombre suit, the strait-laced haircut and the reserved demeanour, she sensed a kindred spirit waiting to be freed.
She could have fun unbuttoning him and uncovering whatever lay beneath in every sense of the word – even if he was only passing through Porthmellow. A fling with a handsome stranger might be exactly what she needed to brighten up the summer.
CHAPTER SIX
Later that evening, bubbles burst against her tongue when Tammy took a large sip of her chilled Prosecco. It was 8.30 p.m. and she was at the Blue Dolphin Bar celebrating her friend Lola’s divorce.
At forty-three, Lola had been married to a local fisherman for almost a decade until things had gone wrong between the two of them. They’d been living apart for over two years and Lola had arranged tonight to mark the official end of her marriage. It might seem like a strange milestone to celebrate – Tammy silently chuckled, remembering how taken aback Ruan had been – but as she raised her glass, Tammy knew Lola was simply relieved that the process was officially over.
‘So, here’s to many happy years of singledom! Congratulations, Lola!’
Six glasses clinked in unison and loud congratulations rang out around the table.
‘Well done, Lola. Tonight is a fresh start for you,’ Shefali, one of the gang, lifted her own glass.
Tammy’s friends ranged in age from their mid-twenties to their late fifties. Initially, they’d met when a yoga class had started up in the village hall a couple of years earlier.None of them took the moves seriously and there was lots of giggling and grunting, but Tammy found it helped her relax after working on the beach or in the gallery. The best part, by far, was the social side, because after the class, they usually ended up at one of Porthmellow’s harbourside pubs for a quick drink or coffee.
Tonight, however, they were pushing the boat out at the Blue Dolphin with dinner, fizz and cocktails. The evening was warm enough for the bar’s upper balcony doors to be pushed back, giving Lola’s party a great view of the harbour. There were tons of craft moored cheek by jowl, taking advantage of the fine bank holiday weather and the setting sun, which made the water look like liquid gold.
Tapas arrived and the gang ate, drank, chatted and laughed. After enduring such a rollercoaster of emotions earlier in the day, the party was exactly what Tammy needed to help her unwind. Sitting in the midst of her friends, she felt blessed to live in Porthmellow with such a great bunch of people.
After their meal, she was on her way back from the bathroom when she spotted a familiar figure standing at the bar with a group of mates. Who could miss that mane of blond hair and a laugh that was so deep and loud it was as if no one else was in the room?
Sean Carrow had never cared who heard him or what they thought of him, Tammy mused – apart from Tammy herself, perhaps. He was attractive and he was fun to be around as long as he was the centre of attention.
However, he’d wanted more than fun: he’d wanted herto be “exclusively his – forever” as he put it and asked her to move in and think about setting a date for a wedding.
Her mood dipped a little, wishing that he hadn’t walked across her path today of all days. She’d known him since she was a child and they’d been at the same primary school.
When she’d gone to art college in Falmouth, Sean had trained as a bricklayer. Now he had his own building firm, one that had gained a reputation for handling prestigious projects. The second-home owners seemed to love him, despite his eyewatering prices. He did a great job and was known for being able to solve even the most challenging construction problems. If you wanted your gleaming white gin palace constructed on a cliffside, Sean was your man.
He also played the laid-back Cornish surfer boy to the max, deliberately keeping a surfboard in his van, even though he’d never caught a wave in his life. As a result, he was booked up for many months, employed a large team of tradespeople, and had built himself a beautiful house overlooking Porthmellow town beach.
Tammy couldn’t help comparing him with Ruan physically. Sean hardly had his shirtonsome days, strutting around sites or working on scaffolding in a hard hat.
As for Ruan, while she hadn’t exactly seen him with his shirt off, she’d seen enough to know he must do something other than lounge in a wood-panelled office in Penzance and visit wealthy clients. It was hardly a question she could ask him, though: how come you’re so fit and gorgeous when you sit behind a desk for a living?
She forced a friendly nod when Sean raised his pint of Doom Bar to her by way of a greeting and hoped she could avoid any long, involved conversations about why she’d ‘wrecked him’.
They’d ended up dating just over a year ago – actually, dating wasn’t an accurate way to describe their relationship. They’d had fun to begin with and she’d enjoyed the physical side of the relationship.