That afternoon, a freshly massaged and showered Sabrina sat in a window seat at the Penrigan View Hotel, a cream tea on order. Skye was right: the spawasamazing. She peered down at her nails. Instead of Polly Malone’s shade of bright red, and despite her recent aversion to the French, she had chosen a classic French manicure.
The hotel was Edwardian and charming and with its wood panelled walls, dark furniture, and deep red sofas, its bar area felt really cosy– especially with the rain still pouring down outside. Pampering over, she’d thought it would be silly not to come and make use of the free WIFI and to treat herself to some scrumptious food.
Sabrina’s mouth watered as a smart waiter dressed fully in black delivered her tray of delights. Two huge home-made scones, a pot of thick clotted cream and another of very fruity looking strawberry jam. An antique teapot with a beautiful floral design with a non-matching floral-painted teacup, and a plain white jug of milk, completed the delightful repast.
As she poured her tea through a tiny, ornate metal strainer, one of two white-haired ladies, on the table adjacent to her whispered way too loudly: ‘Now let’s see if she’s Cornwall or Devon, shall we?’
Sabrina smiled to herself. After years of holidaying down here, she knew exactly what they meant. Taking the first scone, already halved, she put a big dollop of cream on, followed by a sweet helping of the delicious strawberry jam. She did it the opposite way on the other one, then as she took a big bite, causing cream to fall down her chin, she did a little wave across to the two staring ladies.
She was just about to take a sip of her tea from her pretty bone-china mug, when Lowen’s name popped up on her phone screen.Mad busy today and sis wants us to visit her parents at the weekend in Somerset, so let’s meet Monday as planned. I’ve got the paperwork. Signal at theirs is same as the cottage where you are, SHITE! See you soon Lx.
Before she had a chance to read it, another message came through.
Der, I meant our parents!
Cup and saucer in hand, Sabrina gently put her head back in the old-fashioned winged chair and looked out over the rainy vista. The huge sea-facing windows, adorned with luxurious, long red-velvet drapes, had steamed up and despite it being only mid-September, the day had taken on a wintry feel. She took a sip of the deliciously hot and aromatic tasting tea, and let her mind run away with her recent antics.
Was it mad, what she was doing? She had not only taken on a market stall unit but had now agreed to move into a tiny space with a big and from what she had seen friendly but slightly uncouth stranger. She had taken on a new identity and had had rampant sex with a near stranger. She had turned down a huge fee for the second most popular reality show in the UK and as far as her irate agent was concerned had committed career suicide in making the decision to stay off social media until after Christmas. All this in the space of two weeks! No wonder she felt tired and a little confused. She thought back to what her mum might say to her and then smiled as she went through the list in her head of what Gillian Swifthadsaid to her in her final letter of love.
She was certainly taking chances and was definitely starting to be her beautiful unique self by stripping herself back from all pretentions, at least. She now had something to do in getting this market stall up and running, as well, and maybe it would become something she loved once she got her head around it. As for something to hope for and following her heart and not getting lost– well, they were the tricky ones. For love had hurt her in many ways, and if she was ever going to let somebody else in romantically again one day, then she surely had to let somebody go. But as easy as it was for her head and everyone on the outside to call Dominic out for showing he was a loser, if she was honest with herself, her feelings hadn’t quite caught up with everyone else’s opinions.
An unexpected tear started to roll down Sabrina’s face, one of the two white-haired ladies stopped on their her through to the toilet. Expecting some comforting words, Sabrina gave her a weak smile. What she got instead was a strong Cornish accent, saying, ‘That’s what happens when you put the cream on first.’
Chapter Eighteen
On Monday morning, Sabrina drove tentatively onto the car ferry.
‘Ah, Dickens, look at you now, in your fancy car?’ Conor stooped down to her open window. She was never sure what she should be doing when she drove on to one of these and quite often got into a fluster. Nervously pulling on her handbrake, as the sign instructed, she waved her debit card over the wireless terminal that he held out to her.
‘I’ve been missing you already, so I have.’ Conor grinned.
‘God, did you eat that Blarney Stone, rather than kiss it?’ Sabrina then put on an affected and prude like posh comedy voice, ‘And I’ll have you know, that us living together is purely a professional arrangement.’
‘I see I’m going to have to keep my banter battle pants on with you around.’
‘Please do.’
They both laughed.
‘Rumour has is, Dickens, that I’ll have the pleasure of your company later on?’
‘Ooh I do love a rumour. I find out so much more about me that even I didn’t know.’ Sabrina tipped her head back and laughed.
Conor smirked. ‘Or maybe you’re heading to a better offer over in Crowsbridge?’
‘Better offer than living with an uncouth, hairy Irishman? Nah.’ She grinned at him. Sabrina could now see the sign for the Crowsbridge ferry port as the car float took its short journey across the estuary. ‘It’ll be tonight. Not sure exactly what time yet. Got to get the market stall paid for today. Is that OK with you? About me moving in tonight, I mean.’
‘Conor!’ Billy shouted for the Irishman to get ready as the ferry slip was fast approaching.
‘Look, it’s our place, not my place. I’ll make sure the bath is a hair-free zone and that toilet seat will be glued down. And of course, if I’m around, I’ll give you a hand with your things. Better go, the boss is calling!’
When Sabrina found a space straight away in the Ferry Lane Market car park, she sent out a silent prayer of thanks. Turning off the engine, she double counted the money she had just got from the bank in Crowsbridge. She had already done the verbal deal to pay Lowen in cash, so she would honour that. Also, out of anyone, she really didn’t want him to ever find out who she was, as it would no doubt affect things and she didn’t want to spoil the fun they were having.
Putting the notes safely back in the white envelope the cashier had given her, she checked herself in the rear-view mirror and applied a light smudge of gloss. Her roots were already starting to grow out and she made a mental note to find a hairdresser to colour it professionally, plus tidy it up a bit. Although Belle had done a respectable job, it wasn’t quite the usual Mayfair salon finish she had become accustomed to. She secured her nose ring and put on her glasses. It was only Lowen who had really seen her without them. Worried that he may recognise her, she had slipped into the conversation that she was a big soap fan and did he watch any of them. She was relieved at his flat no, although he did mention that his sister never missed an episode of any of them.
Checking her watch, Sabrina rushed into Passion Flowers. ‘Hey Skye, is Kara around?’
Skye was busily arranging a multicoloured array of blooms. ‘Wotcha, Jilly. She’s got a doctor’s appointment, will be back around one thirty, she said. Can I give her a message?’
