Page 67 of One Cornish Summer With You
‘I’m no Jude Kereama, that’s for sure,’ Tammy said, referencing the town’s famous chef.
‘You don’t need to be. Oh, I can see Ranvir coming this way. We’ll be fine. You concentrate on the birthday “card”.’
Tammy did as she was told, relieved to be able to focus on her design while the others set up a gazebo and chairs. Soon, the scent of burning charcoal filled the air and balloons were tied to the gazebo.
The simple design, a ‘Happy Birthday, Hattie’ surrounded by shells and starfish, didn’t take long. To pretty it up, Tammy found some seaweed and real shells and was finally satisfied.
‘Are you OK?’ Lola asked her, handing over a bottle of beer.
‘Yeah. I’m fine.’
‘Doesn’t look like it. You’re putting on a good act, but I get the impression you’re somewhere else.’ She tilted her head on one side like a curious bird. ‘Anything you want to share?’
‘Not right now. Maybe another time, thanks.’
‘Anytime. I’m always here for you. You might be worrying about nothing. If it’s Ruan, he seems to have fitted in as if he was always meant to be here.’
More people joined the laughing, chattering throng, including Ruan, carrying a box of beer. His formal cut was growing out and was tousled by the wind, its dark brown lightened by the sun. Wearing board shorts, a faded T-shirt and flip-flops, he looked as if he’d been born and bred in Cornwall.
‘Yes,’ said Tammy. ‘He does.’
Her heart went on a rollercoaster ride. Lust, happiness, dread … a feeling of longing to be with him that went so deep, she didn’t dare name it. Why did her life have to be so complicated?
Lola patted her arm and was summoned to the barbecue by Shefali. After Ruan had added his beer to the makeshift bar, he joined her.
He greeted her with a kiss. ‘Hi there. Sorry I’m a bit later than hoped. The traffic was bad and I had to go home, get changed, and come back here. Should have taken my shorts to work but I didn’t want to turn up in a suit like the first time.’
She forced a smile. ‘You’d have been the birthdayentertainment if you had and you’re just in time because I see Hattie now with her sister. That’s her on the crutches on the slipway.’
‘Happy Birthday!’ everyone cried and joined in with a chorus of tooting paper horns, applause and a very shaky rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’.
‘And here’s a special surprise,’ Lola declared. ‘A message in the sand for you.’
Hattie burst into tears when she saw it. ‘It’s so beautiful. Thank you. Thank you all for doing this. I expected a few crisps on the beach, not a full-on party. After falling over the other day and spending most of the night in A & E, this is just the thing to cheer me up. You are the best.’
Hattie also took Tammy aside and told her how gorgeous the message was. ‘I’ve never had such a beautiful card.’
‘It was an absolute pleasure,’ said Tammy.
Loads of photos were taken, too many burgers and kebabs and other food eaten. Having been introduced to her friends at the festival, Ruan was in the thick of the throng, chatting away as if he’d known them for years. Tammy ought to have been delighted, yet every time she heard him laugh or caught his eye, she knew the seed of doubt sown by Sean had taken root and was spoiling every happy moment.
Tammy inclined her beer bottle towards the horizon. ‘Sun’s going down on Hattie’s birthday message. Shall we?’
They joined Hattie by the design, her yoga friends linking arms as the waves gently erased it. There were more tears from Hattie, but they were happy tears. Tammy feltlike crying herself. She couldn’t live with this doubt. She had to be sure.
She found Ruan loading up the cool box with more beer.
‘You could always stay over, you know,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to stick to zero alcohol all evening.’
‘That sounds good,’ he said, although not with the rampant enthusiasm she’d expected.
‘Or I could come back with you for a change,’ Tammy suggested, her pulse rate rising. ‘I can follow you and drive back here in the morning. I’ve only had one beer – before you arrived.’
He laughed. ‘I’d love to stay over at yours, but trust me, you don’t want to go back to the van.’
‘Why not? There’s no shame in it. I’ve lived in a mobile home myself. Dad and I stayed in one for a couple of months while we were between rentals.’
‘It’s a tatty old dump,’ he said quickly. Too quickly?
