‘Do youwanta tent?’ Charlie asks as soon as he sees me. He’s lazing on the sofa with his arm around April, his ankle resting on his knee.
‘Sorry?’ We haven’t even exchanged hellos.
‘Do you want a tent to put your things in? I remembered where mine is,’ he explains as April shakes the colourful cloth book she’s holding. It makes a rattling noise.
‘Oh! Um, maybe, I don’t know.’ His question caught me off guard, but now that I think about it... ‘Actually, yes, that would be great. Really?’
‘Sure. I just need to get it back from my brother.’
‘Aah, you lent it to him to go to India, did you?’ I lean against the worktop and fold my arms, looking down at him.
‘No, he didn’t take it with him.’ He doesn’t seem surprised that I know about Adam. Guess he’s aware that his mother’s a chatbag. ‘He’s had it for ages,’ he tells me. ‘When I drop him home tomorrow, I’ll grab it and bring it over.’
‘Cool! I’ll actually have room to move. That’s a luxury. Is your brother older or younger than you?’ I ask.
I now know from Nicki’s diary that she and Charlie were in the same year at school, which also made him around the age of thirty-one when she died.
‘Younger by three years,’ he replies, taking the book from April and squeezing one of its cloth pages. It makes a squeaking sound that impresses her.
‘Is he your only sibling?’
‘Yeah.’ He smiles affectionately, then glances up at me. ‘Do you have any?’
‘No, I’m an only child.’
I can tell from his expression that he feels sorry for me, which also tells me that he loves his little brother a lot. I’d like to meet him.
Chapter 13
Unfortunately, I have to set off back to the campsite before Charlie returns from Bodmin station with his brother. Adam is coming in on a London train at five thirty that evening, but I’ve left at five pretty much every day since I got here and I don’t want to be hanging around like a bad smell.
After dinner, I climb the hill to catch up on my social media. There’s a group of friends camping in tents behind me, and I feel like a right Norman No Mates sitting there, working, while their barbecue smells waft down the slope towards me. Eventually, I return toHermieand continue writing a blog I started earlier about Beau, the guy who stole the eleventh piece of my heart and who used to live right here in Cornwall, but I give up and call it a night early.
I have every intention of getting my arse into gear and heading to Heligan the next day, but when I wake up I feel a bit low.
I’m a sociable person. And I’ve been here for two weeks now without proper company. I really hope Marty is up for a visit soon. She gets back from Greece on Friday, so that rules out next weekend. I’ll try to persuade her to lock in the one after.
I traipse up the hill to call Elliot, but when he doesn’t answer, I make the decision to go into town for a pick-me-up breakfast. The gardens are only about an hour away, so I’ll still have most of the day to explore.
It’s a cool, partly cloudy morning as I walk along the Camel Trail into Padstow. The town is buzzing, but the streets are far from crowded, and I’m glad I don’t have to fight the tourists for footpath space as I wander past the small harbour. I make a beeline for the café on the other side – I’ve been there for lunch, but thought the breakfast menu looked good, too.
It’s a small, cosy venue with windows facing onto the water and a counter just inside the door crammed with cakes, pastries and ice creams. It’s only when a waitress is about to show me to a table that I see Charlie. He’s sitting right at the back with April – and Adam, at a guess – but, before I can walk out again, he clocks me and lifts his hand up in a wave.
‘This way, please,’ the waitress says, setting off with her single, sad little menu.
I can’t really do anything but follow her.
As Charlie beckons me over, Adam swivels in his seat to look at me. Despite his heavy stubble and bleached-blond hair, the family resemblance is striking.
‘Would you like to join us?’ Charlie asks politely, placing his hand on the chair belonging to the empty table beside him. Adam grins up at me in a cheeky fashion as the waitress waits for my response.
‘I don’t want to intrude,’ I say, awkwardly.
‘You’re not,’ Charlie replies, swinging the chair into place between him and his brother.
April is in a highchair opposite. She tries to communicate with me in baby talk as I sit down and smile at her, self-consciously.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ the waitress asks.
