‘Just about to. Why?’

  ‘Fancy a casserole instead?’

  It’s Thursday afternoon and rain is firing horizontal bullets at the shop window. There must be an invisible weather machine-gun trained on me from the butcher’s opposite. I stare at it across the rain-soaked street. The shop, not the invisible machine-gun, because how could I? It being invisible. Oh God. I’m losing my marbles. I’m in danger of going stir-crazy, and can count on one hand the customers who have been in today – actually, no. On one finger. But it’s unsurprising, given the monsoon out there.

  For the last half-hour I’ve been googling Tremaine Nancarrow. The results are interesting. He’s a swanky London barrister, but I knew that. And from the very few photos available to me on Facebook because I’m not a friend, he looks to be fond of the finer things in life. Climbing in the Himalayas, at a black-tie event in some posh banqueting hall surrounded by guys raising glasses and pretty women hung with diamonds. Oh, and not forgetting the one of him thundering along the beach on a magnificent black horse as if he’s in a TV commercial for a bank.

  Claire’s description of him being up himself as the result of being ‘as fit as’ is totally believable too. The fit thing and the up himself bit. How fortunate can one person be? All that, and the looks of a Greek god? But then instead of choosing to be pleasant to others, he decides instead to be snotty. Entitled snob. I’m not looking forward to getting in touch with him at all. Still, needs must.

  I close the cover on my iPad and walk away from the window. Might as well close up fifteen minutes early. A bubble bath and a glass of wine before I meet Jasmine for a drink seem like great ideas. Josh is still unwell and didn’t sound any better at all when I spoke to him at lunchtime. If he’s no better on Monday, I made him promise to get a doctor’s appointment. Knowing him he won’t though. He said he’s just got to ride the storm. I look back at the torrential rain. Yup, so will I if this keeps up on the walk home.

  I’m greeted by laughter and song as I walk through the door of the Golden Lion pub. Someone is having a birthday party and the place is busier than usual on a Thursday night out of season. As I thread my way through the crowd, I glance at the red-haired woman sitting at a table surrounded by people, cake and presents. She’s glowing with happiness, her sparkly green eyes dancing under the low lights. I’m surprised to see Jasmine amongst the woman’s friends and she gives me a wave and points to a table at the other side of the room.

  I follow her towards it and we sit down. ‘Who’s the birthday girl?’ I ask, slipping my coat off and wishing I’d changed out of my faded jeans and old burgundy woollen top. I know it’s only a drink at the local pub, but I should try to make more of an effort with my appearance if I’m to keep Josh interested.

  ‘Nancy Cornish. She lives next door but one to my mum. Lovely woman, full of energy and always ready to help. She’s a PI no less!’ Jas plays with a button on her black and white polka-dot shirt and crosses her legs.

  ‘Really! Not sure what I expected from a private investigator, but the image I have leans more towards a balding man in his mid-fifties, with a tired expression and jaded view of life.’

  Jasmine laughs. ‘She’s a psychic investigator, not a private one. And bloody good at it she is too. Nancy helps her husband Charlie to solve crimes – he’s a copper. But she mainly helps people solve their own little mysteries. She once helped my great-auntie find some medals belonging to my great-uncle that she’d sent to the charity shop by mistake. And that led to her meeting a long-lost friend.’ Jas puts her head on one side and gives me a wink. ‘Well, they are more than friends nowadays, if you know what I mean.’

  Gobsmacked, I look at Nancy and back to Jas. ‘Really? That’s amazing. I’m not sure I believe in all that stuff, but—’

  ‘You would if you met her. I’ll introduce you later if she comes past. She’s busy thanking everyone for the surprise birthday meal right now.’

  I’m not sure I want to be introduced to a psychic – it’s all a bit out there for me – but I keep quiet and change the subject. ‘Okay, let’s order and then you can tell me all about your new job.’

  The burgers are fantastic here, and as we munch our way through, Jas tells me how much she’s enjoying the new job. ‘I love Newquay. It’s got such a beach-bum vibe going on, even at this time of year. And the people in the store are lovely. Even though I’m the boss now.’ Jasmine preens a bit and takes a swallow of cider.

  It’s great to see her confidence returning since her boyfriend left, and I’m certain this new job will be the making of her. ‘Your fears about Robert scuppering your chances were unfounded then?’

  ‘Yeah. He was really nice to me after the interview. He was the one to tell me I’d got the job and he looked genuinely pleased that I had. Weird.’

  ‘Maybe you were wrong about him all this time?’ I wonder, dipping a chip into ketchup.

  ‘Mm. No clue. I only know that for the last year, every time he’s seen me, he’s been snappy and rude. So, your guess is as good as mine. I’ll never understand men.’ Jasmine stares into the distance for a moment and then fixes her gaze on mine. ‘Oh! I forgot to ask, have you made a decision about going over to try and find Nancarrow House?’

  I wiggle my eyebrows at her. ‘I might have already been.’

  ‘You sly dog. Tell me all!’

  I tell her all about my visit and my conversation with Claire and then show her the photos I found of Tremaine Nancarrow.

  ‘Oh my God, he’s bloody gorgeous. Good enough to eat! Look at those eyes! Turquoise blue, I’d call them, and all that tawny-coloured floppy hair,’ she gushes. ‘It’s in a little ponytail in that one. Nice. And those pouty lips…’

  I hold my hands up. ‘Okay, I get the impression you think he’s a bit good-looking.’

  ‘A bit? Are you blind?’

  ‘Skin deep, I’m afraid.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘Claire said.’

  ‘Yeah, but that was just her opinion. You have to keep an open mind when you meet him.’

  ‘Yeah. Not sure I will do though. If Claire’s right, he might not be very welcoming.’

  ‘But then again he might be absolutely fine.’ Jas leans forward, rests her chin on interlaced fingers and gives me an impish look. ‘Can I come if you do meet him?’

  ‘No. You’ll drool all over him and ruin his designer clothes.’

  ‘Oh, very funny.’ Jas sits back, raises her pint and regards me over the top of it. ‘How are you going to get in contact?’

  I shrug. ‘I’ve got a work email and phone number. I’ll ring and ask to speak to him.’

  ‘You’d better get on with it then. I need to know everything there is to know about TT.’

  ‘TT?’

  ‘Tasty Tremaine.’ Jasmine’s eyes sparkle with humour.

  ‘Oh dear, what are you like? Now, tell me more about the new job.’

  Jas smiles and rummages in her bag. She puts a pen, comb, purse and phone on the table and then in triumph brandishes an ID badge with ‘Jasmine Thomas – Manager’ written on it. ‘I can’t stop looking at this,’ she says with a little laugh.

  I look at her cheeks, pink with pride, and want to hug her. ‘I’m so pleased that you’re happy in your job now, Jas.’

  She’s about to answer when the PI, Nancy Cornish, walks past our table, presumably on her way to the Ladies. ‘Hey, Nancy! Meet my bestest friend, Sennen.’

  Nancy gives me a big smile and sits in the empty chair at the end of the table. ‘Hi, Sennen, love the name. After Sennen Cove?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s where my mum grew up.’

  ‘You enjoying your birthday?’ Jas asks, fiddling with her badge as if she wants Nancy to notice it.

  ‘Yes. It was a lovely surprise. Charlie organised it and invited the whole of Padstow, I think!’ She nods at the badge. ‘Your mum told me you got the promotion, well done!’

  Jasmine’s cheeks glow pink again. ‘Thank you! I’m so pleased.’ As she says this, she plonks the badge down and it nudges the pen. Nancy just manages to grab it before it rolls off the table onto the floor.

  Then her whole demeanour changes. She loses the smile and her eyes focus on something only she can see at the other side of the pub. Jas and I shoot each other puzzled glances and then, after a few moments, Nancy turns to Jas. ‘The person who owns this pen has very strong feelings for you, Jasmine. I think he will become very important to you if you let him,’ she says, with a smile.

  Jasmine’s mouth drops open. ‘Eh? You have got to be joking!’

  Nancy put the pen on the table and shrugs. ‘Nope. Very serious.’

  ‘But … but that’s weird. Until recently he’s been a proper pig…’ Jasmine says, bewildered.

  The penny drops in my head and I realise who the pen belongs to. ‘Robert?’

  Jasmine nods. ‘Yeah. I borrowed it from him the other day and forgot to give it back.’

  Nancy stands up and smooths her skirt. ‘If he’s been a pig, I’m guessing it’s because he wanted to keep you at arm’s length. No idea why. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies. I must go to the Ladies!’ She waves goodbye and hurries off.

  ‘Oh, my word. I need another drink!’ Jasmine says, jumping up. ‘Same again?’

  Ten minutes later we still are no wiser about Robert’s odd behaviour. He has been horrid to Jas for the last year. Why the sudden change? Then a thought occurs. I take a sip of cider and say, ‘Anyway, never mind about why he might have feelings for you all of a sudden. I’ve not heard you say what you think of him.’

  She wrinkles her nose. ‘His personality? I think he’s a pompous, arrogant arse. But that’s because of his behaviour towards me. Well, until after the interview, when he was really very sweet. His looks? Extremely attractive.’ Jas lifts a cautionary finger. ‘Not on TT’s scale, but then who is? Short dark hair, a little goatee, bright blue eyes, muscular physique, just under six foot, I’d say.’

  ‘Hm, sounds like this might go somewhere.’

  Jas twists her mouth to the side and shakes her head dismissively. ‘No chance.’

  ‘So, Nancy isn’t such a brilliant psychic, then?’

  Jasmine shifts in her seat obviously uncomfortable with this question. ‘Er … well, yes. Normally. She must be having an off day.’

  I laugh out loud. ‘Yeah, okay. If you say so.’

  ‘Look, there’s no way Robert and I would work. He’s about five years older than me anyway.’

  I raise my eyebrows at her. ‘Thirty? Yeah, such an old man.’

  The corner of her mouth twitches into a half-smile then it irons out. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘You sound like Josh.’ I’d not meant to say that, but Josh’s behaviour has been tying knots of tension in my gut all week.

  ‘What doesn’t he want to talk about?’ Jas says, absently, as she once again rummages in her bag.

  ‘Getting a place together. Moving things on. But then I don’t know how he feels right now, because I haven’t seen him for nearly two weeks.’ I’m talking to the top of her head. She’s more interested in what’s at the bottom of her bag than anything I’m saying, but I carry on, nevertheless. ‘Yes, he’s had a bad cold and chest infection or whatever it is, but I have the feeling he’s avoiding me, somehow. I can’t put my finger on it.’

  ‘Hmm.’ More rummaging.

  ‘“Hmm”? Is that it?’

  ‘Sorry, can’t find something.’

  ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘Oh. It’s er … a thingy, you know?’

  ‘Thingy?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  She still hasn’t looked up from her bag and her couldn’t-care-less attitude is verging on the rude. ‘Right. So, what do you think about Josh?’

  ‘Do you fancy a pudding?’

  There’s something not right about her voice. It’s gone all squeaky and the tips of her ears have gone redder than her hair. ‘A pudding? Jas, look at me.’

  Releasing a deep sigh, she raises her head but her eyes flick off towards the door as if she’s longing to walk through it. Her face is on fire and she puts a shaking hand to her mouth. God. What’s wrong with her?

  ‘Look at me,’ I insist. There’s a jittery feeling growing in my gut and I shove my hands under my armpits to stop them trembling. Something is very wrong and it involves Josh. I just know it.

  Jasmine turns her head, holds my gaze, and two big teardrops brim from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, Sen. I was going to tell you over the phone, but I bottled it. Thought it would be better face-to-face. But then we were having such a nice time tonight … and … I’m rubbish at giving crap news.’

  Nausea rolls into the jittery feeling and I take a few deep breaths. ‘Please. Just tell me.’

  Lowering her gaze, Jas takes a long swallow from her glass and blurts, ‘The other day when I was in Newquay, I went for a walk in my lunch break as it was such a lovely day. As I walked along Fistral Beach, I passed a café. A couple were sitting on the outside deck and I took a double-take, because I thought I recognised the guy.’ She stops and dabs a tissue under each eye. ‘The woman was about our age, or a bit younger. Long blonde hair – surfer type.’

  My own eyes mist over as I know what’s coming. This is what I’ve been dreading. Red flags have been waving at me for weeks now, though I chose to ignore them. Became deaf, dumb and blind. An ostrich. I dig my nails into my palms as if I’m clinging desperately to a lifeline, but I know I can’t be saved. I decide instead to save Jas any more discomfort and ask, ‘It was Josh, wasn’t it?’

  She sniffs, nods and touches my arm, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. ‘Yeah. At first, I thought he might be with just a friend or his sister. But I put my hood up to hide my hair – it’s not hard to spot – put my sunglasses on and walked past again a bit further away to sit on the sand so I could keep watch. They were talking and laughing’ – she slides her eyes from mine – ‘and then it became obvious she wasn’t his sister.’

  These words punch me in the gut. My imagination is doing a great job of providing all kinds of scenarios and I lean forward, wrap my arms around my chest to protect myself from further blows. Even though I know what she says is true, I hear myself groan, ‘Oh no… not my Josh. Please no.’ Then a question escapes, intent on torturing me further. ‘Were they kissing?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Jas gives me a watery smile, takes my hand. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Sen. I knew I had to tell you, but it was really hard. I know how much you love him and—’

  I cut her off – I can’t stand to hear more, or the pitying looks any longer.

  ‘Don’t apologise. I would have done the same if the boot were on the other foot.’ Withdrawing my hand, I sit back in my seat, stare at a moving picture reel of Josh and some faceless surfer chick all over each other. His hands in her hair, hers in his, snogging the face off each other in full view of people in the café. The café we’ve been to together, many times. A surge of anger bubbles up from my depths, sending my heart-rate into overdrive. ‘That bastard!’ I hiss. ‘He told me he was ill. Cancelled at the very last minute the meal I’d got ready for him… All a pack of fucking lies so he could go and be with her. I bet they had a right old laugh at my expense.’ My voice catches in my throat and I down the rest of my drink in one, then slam it down on the table.

  Amongst those nearby, the conversation falters and a few look over at me. I’m so close to yelling at them, asking them what the hell they are staring at, but I manage to keep a lid on it. And rush off to the loo. Inside the cubicle, I sit biting my knuckles to stem the escape of the multitude of sobs lining up at the back of my throat. I hear the door open and Jas say, ‘Sennen? You okay, mate?’

  ‘Ha! Yeah. Yeah, Jas. Absolutely fab-u-lous, darling!’ I snap, then immediately regret it. None of this is her fault. ‘Sorry…’

  Jasmine taps on the door. ‘Hey, don’t apologise. I would be the same. Open the door and let me hug you.’

  ‘No. If I do that, I’ll be a mess. I need to get out of here, go back to yours.’ I wish I’d not agreed to stay over. All I want is my own bed and a vat of wine to drown in. Oh, and a shotgun to blow that cheating bastard’s head off.

  ‘Okay. I’ll get a taxi.’

  ‘You got wine at yours?’

  ‘Yeah. I always have wine.’

  I take some calming breaths while I listen to her order a taxi. Then I come out and walk straight past her, through the pub and into the cool night air. Jasmine follows me out and tries to make me feel better by saying how I must be in shock and it will seem a bit more bearable in the morning, but all I can think about is stopping myself from crying. I mustn’t cry. Because if I start…

  Once the taxi has driven off Jasmine opens her door, chattering on about this and that in a desperate and futile attempt to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Now we have red, white, gin, vodka … oh, and tequila!’ She pulls a bottle from the cupboard and does a fake smile. ‘Which do you fancy?’

  ‘All of them!’ Then my bravado crumbles like the ridiculous clown smile I’ve just painted on. ‘I just want to be numb. Blank out the images of … of…’ Then to my annoyance, the tears that I’ve been holding back overwhelm me and I sink down on her sofa sobbing my heart out.

  Jasmine puts her arms around me and gives me a big squeeze. ‘Just let it out, Sen. Let it all out, sweetheart.’

  So I do. Because I haven’t the strength to keep it in.

  Chapter Six

  Last night I resolved to cut all ties with Josh, remove his number from my phone, his toothbrush from my bathroom, and all the love I had for him from my heart. This afternoon, after my stomach has finally finished evacuating the last vestiges of the ocean of booze I put away at Jasmine’s, I snatch my phone from my bag, get back under the duvet and look at his name on my contact list. Since Jas dropped me home a few hours ago, I crawled between bed and bathroom like some demented creature. Swearing, ranting, vomiting and repeating. A yoyo of misery wrapped in a tangled string of self-pity and regret. I kept reiterating to myself that I must remove Josh from my life like the disgusting splat of seagull shit I’d scrubbed from my windscreen the other day.