Tia laughs. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, Windflowers is on the beach too.’ She gives my elbow a nudge. ‘A few damp tents, or an exclusive-use beach hut? I know which I’d rather have!’
My more pressing problem is actually closer to home.
‘Well done for your quick thinking back there, Tia.’ I lower my voice. ‘Now Lando’s here for good, I have to let him see Nemmie before he runs into her by accident.’
In terms of priority, it’s just leapfrogged over telling him she’s his. I’ll have to think very carefully how I’m going to handle both of those.
17
Smugglers End, The Harbourside, St Aidan, Cornwall
Home comforts and fast getaways
Sunday
Living with a multi-generational extended family might mean I get very little time on my own, but the upside is that there are always plenty of people to call on for backup. After everything Lando’s done to help Salvador recently, our family would naturally want to show our appreciation that he’s back in St Aidan, which is why at ten on Sunday morning, as I cross the quayside, I’m not only with Dale, Zara, Nemmie and Angel the dog, but we’ve also brought the little ones along too.
As we make our way along the row to Lando’s cottage at the end, I’m the only one with any idea about the significance of the visit. It’s such a big thing for me that I feel like I could throw up any second and my first feeble tap on the door reflects that.
We cluster round the doorstep, stare at the blue-painted door and the pink stucco wall and wait.
After a while Dale takes a step back. ‘If we were police on a dawn raid, we’d have rammed that door down by now.’
Nemmie sniffs. ‘I seriously doubt they’d bash in doors to deliver tray bakes, Dale.’
I attempt to smile at them. ‘No one answers straightaway. They have to finish what they’re doing first.’
Nemmie looks up at the little window sitting proud on the roof. ‘They might be in the bathroom…’
I cut in before the speculation gets too loud or rude. ‘Exactly. A lot of people take showers in the mornings.’ An image of a steaming wet Lando flashes through my brain, but I only have myself to blame for that.
Then I think about having to do all this another day, and when I try again my knock is loud enough that if anyone’s inside they won’t ignore it. A few seconds later we hear the pad of feet along the hall then the door swings open and Lando is blinking at us in the sunlight.
This time I know not to hesitate. ‘Good morning, Lando, we’ve brought you some home baking.’
He hitches up his weekend joggers. ‘You’ve what?’
‘As a housewarming present.’ My confidence wavers. ‘You do still eat brownies?’
As I falter, Dale steps in. ‘I made those.’
Nemmie chimes in too. ‘And me and Zara did the chocolate crispies and licked out the flapjack pan. They’re vegetarian not vegan, because we used Cadbury’s chocolate.’
Dale rolls his eyes. ‘Zara and me, not me and Zara.’
Nemmie carries on. ‘And Zara and me wrapped them up and did the labels.’
This is why I brought them. With this lot beside me there’s no danger of a lull in the conversation.
I make myself smile. ‘It’s a joint effort. As you missed the children the other day, we thought we’d drop by to say, “welcome and hello”.’ I know better than to pause for breath so I carry straight on to the real reason we’re here and start nodding along the row of heads. ‘You’ve met Angel already, Dale and Zara are Mum’s two, Nemmie is mine, and Flo, Jimmy and Jethro are the small ones Mum is looking after. And guys… this is Uncle Salvador’s good friend, Lando!’
Dale grunts. ‘I should have been called Zephyr, but Mum lost her nerve.’
Zara beams. ‘So I got the “Z” instead.’
Nemmie rolls her eyes and says the line she’s said most days since she could talk. ‘And Nemmie is short for Anemone, like the flower not the sea animal. It’s Greek and means “daughter of the wind”.’
I couldn’t have done any better if I’d scripted this; it’s the exact mix of truth and random chaos I was hoping for.
