Page 90 of One Cornish Summer With You
‘No,’ he said with a rueful smile which made him look even more handsome and vulnerable in a way she found endearing despite her better judgement. The urge to kiss him was intense so she opened the car door to escape.
‘Bye.’
‘See you later. Good luck,’ he said.
‘You too.’
As Ruan drove away, Tammy realised she’d only escaped from the frying pan into the fire. She had to take a deep breath before walking up the drive to the house. Both she and Ruan had news to deliver that could shatter the lives ofthe people they were visiting – or, at the very least, cause a great deal of trouble.
At least Tammy’s mother, Debbie, would be on her own so they’d have privacy. When Tammy had called her to arrange the visit, she’d told Tammy it was her day off from the hair salon she co-owned, and that her husband, Patrick, would be out at work.
This was a relief to Tammy as Patrick was the same man with whom Debbie had had the affair in Cornwall and eventually married. Tammy had no desire ever to meet him again and had been relieved that he hadn’t decided to come down for her father’s funeral.
Her mother answered the door, her face deeply tanned and her blond hair falling neatly on her shoulders. She was wearing white skinny jeans and a loose sweater, and, as usual, she was immaculately made-up. She’d always been glamorous despite everything the Cornish elements could throw at her – and even the Scottish climate had failed to make an impact.
Tammy hadn’t inherited her mother’s interest in fashion and make-up and instead had been a child of the great outdoors, like her father – or so she’d thought until recently.
Debbie greeted Tammy in an accent that also hadn’t changed a bit. ‘Hello, stranger.’
‘Hi, Mum. You look well.’
‘We’ve just got back from Ibiza. You look well, too, but I suppose you would, working outside all the time. I saw your friend drop you off.’
‘Did you?’
‘He was a man.’
‘Well spotted,’ Tammy replied, and then cursed herself for her sarcasm.
‘I didn’t mean to sound nosy,’ her mum said sniffily.
‘I know. Sorry. Ruan’s a friend and he had business up here too, so we decided to share the costs of driving and the accommodation. The apartment has two beds,’ she added hastily.
Her mum held up her hands. ‘It’s none of my business, Tammy. Come inside. I’ll put the kettle on. Tea or coffee?’
‘Coffee, please and, Mum, let’s not get off on the wrong foot. I didn’t come all this way to have a row.’
‘I sincerely hope not. I’m looking forward to hearing why you did come, though. You were very mysterious on the phone. Anyway, sit down and make yourself at home.’
Relaxing was impossible. When her mother returned with two mugs and a packet of chocolate digestives, Tammy was rehearsing yet again how to broach the subject of Neil’s note.
For a few minutes, she and her mother made small talk about her journey, about the area and the house and how her mother’s salon was doing. Tammy was so on edge she could hardly get the coffee down, and she only accepted a biscuit to stall for time, but the crumbs lodged in her already-dry throat.
The letter was in her backpack – and already she was feeling how crazy it had been to come all the way up here toshow it to her mum. Nothing good could come of it. Should she make up some other excuse for coming, rather than launch her bombshell?
‘So, put me out of my misery. I’ve been so worried since you called me, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep. Are you OK? Please tell me you’re not ill because I’ve been beside myself.’
‘No. I’m fine. It’s nothing like that,’ Tammy said, surprised at the anguish in her mum’s voice. Only now did she see the deeper lines of anxiety under the make-up and tan. ‘Really, I am absolutely fine. I promise.’
Her shoulders slumped in relief. ‘Thank God for that. I had worked myself up so much, I was sure you were going to tell me something was terribly wrong.’
‘No, I’m good … It’s not me.’ She clasped her hands lightly in her lap to stop them from trembling and her heart beat faster by the second.
‘I need to ask you something, Mum …’ She faltered at the last and the question that she thought she’d come to ask wasn’t the one that tumbled from her lips. ‘Why did you leave me?’
Her mother frowned. ‘You could have come with me.’
‘I didn’t want to leave Cornwall.’
