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‘It was – a bit of a surprise.’ Matt tried to centre himself and glanced over to where he’d last seen Zennor with Trev at her side but she’d vanished.

‘An understatement. Are you OK?’ Ty asked.

‘Yeah … I think so. Sorry, Ty, but I need to speak to Zennor.’

Smiling away congrats and a few back slaps, Matt made his way across the terrace but couldn’t see Zennor or Trev. He looked over the balcony rail and scanned the beach where the tide was out and the beach was busy with people, although most were clustered around the Surf Club end. To his left were the town beaches. If Zennor had walked that way, he had little chance of spotting her among the hordes picnicking and playing frisbee.

He pivoted his attention to the right-hand end of the beach which eventually petered out in the headland that separated St Ives from Carbis Bay. His brain checked and dismissed half a dozen young women until it zoned in on a lone figure whose dark hair trailed behind her in the fresh breeze.

It was Zennor, heading for the slipway that led off the beach into the eastern edge of town.

Matt jogged down the steps and ran after her before he lost her amid the crowds.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

‘Zennor! Hold on.’

Zennor had almost reached the beach steps when she heard Matt calling.

She turned, squinting into the sunlight at the tall figure running towards her. The surf was a low rumble, almost as far away as it could ever be, the tide not yet on the turn.

Her heart skipped a beat. How handsome he was with his tawny hair and gilded skin, a grown-up version of the young man she used to love so much.

‘Z-Zennor.’ Reaching her, he was a little out of breath.

‘Matt? Are you OK?’

‘Yeah. No, I mean – why did you leave the party?’

‘I – needed some air. It was hot and crowded.’

‘Nothing to do with me?’

‘No, not at all. I just wanted a moment to myself.’ Her stomach was full of butterflies – not pretty ones, but angry beasts, beating their wings to escape. Of course she’d left the club because of him: she’d sobbed the moment she’d set foot on the sand.

‘I thought you might have been upset by me singing with the choir,’ he said. ‘Considering the last time it happened.’

‘Oh, I wasn’t upset,’ she insisted. ‘Not in that way. It was – a beautiful tribute to your grandad. Everyone was moved, including me. I was only surprised at you agreeing to do it.’

‘I think you could tell I hadn’t agreed. I was railroaded into it.’ He stepped closer. ‘I had no choice,’ he said with desperation in his voice.

Something in her made her want to throw her arms around him. She’d felt almost every emotion he must have experienced when he sang, including his pride and love for Harry, for the choir and for Cornwall. It was only because she didn’t want to make the whole task even harder for him that she’d been able to hold it together.

‘I realised that but when they asked you, I honestly thought you might walk out. I’m glad you didn’t,’ she added softly. ‘No matter what happened in the past, today was about Harry and his legacy.’

‘I thought that. I wanted it to be about him … Did you know about Trev – about his donation to the training fund?’

‘I—’ She measured her words carefully. ‘Not until today.’

‘So it was him.’ Matt nodded with satisfaction and Zennor realised she’d walked into a trap. ‘He told you, did he?’

‘Actually, no. Dawn let it slip,’ she said, annoyed that Matt had lured her into revealing a secret. ‘Though she wasn’t meant to. Trev wanted to keep things discreet.’

Matt huffed. ‘Did he really?’

‘You know what a gossip Dawn is. She’s a brilliant president but she can’t keep a secret to save her life.’

‘Apart from keeping the choir thing from me.’