To be by the sea had always given her free spirit such a lift. The holidays she had had down here as a child, pre-Simon’s accident held, such great memories of both freedom and joy for her. Sadly, she had never managed to fully replicate either of these in her adult life.
When her own busy filming schedule allowed her and Dom to make it away for a weekend or, if lucky, a week’s holiday, he would be forever on his laptop or phone. And as much as she enjoyed his company, it hadn’t taken her long to realise that she was not only marrying a very charismatic and at times beautiful man, but she was also marrying his job.
She laughed to herself as she imagined ever having a bench inscribed with Sabrina and Dominic. He would think it trite. She found it really endearing. “Sabrina and Dominic, the actress, the editor, the ex-wife and his French lover”, she said to the sky with a dramatically Shakespearean air. The most romantic thing he’d ever done was to propose to her at the top of the London Eye, as he’d thought it would just be them alone up there in the sky with no prying eyes. That was until he admitted it was his PA Jessica’s idea, and that by the time they’d got all the way round, the paparazzi had been called and she had been jostled relentlessly for selfies by people waiting in the queue to get on the big wheel. Thinking about it now, she realised how ridiculous it had been. Who picks a huge glass bubble in the middle of central London for a discreet proposal?!
Just as she was having these thoughts, and much to the disdain of an old couple who were walking by hand in hand the arrival of a voicemail caused her phone to ping loudly.
Smiling apologetically, she put the handset to her ear.
Darling. It’s me. You know how sorry I am. Dominic Best’s daily plea floated on the breeze.See sense and come home. Or at least have the decency to return my calls. I miss you.Like you had the decency to shag someone just weeks before our wedding day, Sabrina thought, the feelings of hurt suddenly cutting through her like the noise of the jet ski about to whizz under the ornate Victorian structure of the pier. Granted, she was finding the strength from somewhere not to talk to him, but not listening to his messages– she wasn’t ready for that yet. She had also thankfully managed to bat off any form of rational thought as to what she might feel or do if the wounded pleas from the manwereto stop coming.
Fancying a caffeine intake, she wandered up the pier to the coffee kiosk. As she opened her purse, said ‘Shit!’ rather too loudly. Without thinking, she took off her sunglasses and shook her head. ‘We take cash and cards, if that’s what’s the bother.’ The middle-aged server interjected with a strong Cornish accent. Sabrina nodded and handed over a five-pound note.
‘Keep the change.’
‘Thanks love.’ The woman began staring at her in quizzical fashion. ‘That’s very kind. Oh…My…God!… It’s Polly Malone, isn’t it? You’re a wanted woman. Can I have a selfie? I’ve never met anyone famous before.’
Sabrina whacked on her sunglasses and in an atrocious Scottish accent replied. ‘Nay, I get that all the time.’ Before she had a chance to turn around, the woman had reached for her phone. Composing herself, the actress managed a flimsy smile and shouted back. ‘No fun being a doppelganger to a villain, I can tell ya, that lassie. Have a wonderful day.’
Coffee in hand, she walked back as fast as she could to the pier entrance and called Dee.
‘Thank God, you answered.’
‘Oh no, what’s up?’
‘One, I’ve just been recognised and not sure if the woman got a photo or not and two, in all the kerfuffle of leaving London, I changed bags and I’ve only got my joint account debit card with me.’
‘That’s alright isn’t it. There must be money in there?’
‘Of course, there is, but you’re not getting it. Dom will know exactly where I am. For fuck’s sake!’
‘Can’t you get a new personal debit card sent there– say you’ve lost it?’
Sabrina groaned. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’ll work it out when I get back to the cottage.’
Dee laughed. ‘You’ll have to get a real job down there and work for a living like everybody else does.’
Sabrina scowled. ‘You’re not remotely funny.’
‘I’m actually surprised anyone recognised you with those saucer-sized sunnies you wear.’
‘I’m surprised anyone recognised me, period, as I look so God darn awful. I took them off for a split second. I hope I got away with it, though, pretended I was Scottish and that it was always happening to me.’
‘Good that you ventured out, anyway. Where are you?’
‘Penrigan Pier. It’s gorgeous here. I walked along the clifftops from my little cottage and thought I’d sit quietly and just be for a change. I have to say I didn’t realise I needed to do nothing until I came here. I’m tired, Dee.’
‘I know you are, darling. Have you called Caroline yet?’
‘No, I’m still weighing up loot over limbs.’
Dee laughed out loud. ‘Don’t ever change, mate, will you. I better go, meeting a couple of mums in the pub for lunch today.’
‘I didn’t ask howyouwere. As much as I think it is, sometimes, it’s not all about me.’
‘Let me know how you get on with Caroline and the bank. Gotta go.’
‘What’s up, Dee? As soon as you can, come and see me, OK?’
