SERIAL The Secret of Trefusis Cove

Standing at the door was the last man the two friends expected to see . . .

BETTY, I sat on some stinging nettles!” Val cried. “I’m glad I’m wearing my jeans.” “Are you stung?” “Just on my hand, but I didn’t get a shot of him at all.” Val looked into the viewfinder of her camera. “The flash didn’t go off.”

“Good job. It would have spooked that poor horse even more.”

“Fancy riding so fast! In the dark, too.”

“Let’s get back to the cottage. At least we know what the noise was now.”

They made their way carefully down the stone steps behind Tangara and soon had the kettle boiling.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt, Val?”

“I’m OK, just a few scratches on my cheek.”

“Ditto on my chin. It could have been worse.”

“We could have gone right over the edge and down those steps!”

“But we didn’t.” Betty spooned chocolate powder into two mugs. “Best to forget it: we probably won’t be seeing Alexander Grey again. Anyway, it was partly our fault that he nearly knocked us flying.”

“He shouldn’t have been riding at such a speed in the dark, and I expect we will see him again – especially if we’re at the Crab and Mermaid.” Betty grinned.

“The fish and chips were a bit special, weren’t they?”

****

Next morning Betty’s chin and Val’s cheek were a bit sore and puffy so both were glad of the little first-aid kit they kept in the car. They smoothed on some ointment.

“The two brothers fell in love with the same girl”

“Shall I take a photo?” Val asked with a smile.

“No! I don’t want to be reminded of the incident.” Val sighed. “You’re right. Let’s stick to our house-sitting; that’s what we came here to do. I must say Alexander Grey did sing ‘The Wild Colonial Boy’ beautifully, though.”

“That doesn’t excuse him from riding that poor horse like a wild man, or for being so rude to us!”

They were clearing up the breakfast dishes when there was a rap on the door.

Betty answered. Alexander Grey stood there, a bouquet of roses in one hand. He removed his hat and held it to his chest.

“I hope you’ll accept these with my apologies for what happened last night. They’re for both of you.” Val came to the door. “Oh!”

“I came to apologise.” He offered the roses to Val. “I hope you weren’t hurt.” Val took the flowers. “They’re lovely. You didn’t have to.”

“I did. I behaved badly and spoke roughly to you both.” He peered at Val. “You’ve hurt your face!” “Betty hurt her chin.” “Then I’m doubly sorry. I – I wasn’t quite myself. I didn’t expect to see anyone on the road.”

“We could tell you weren’t ‘quite yourself’.” Betty’s voice was grim. “We could smell the results of an evening at the Crab and Mermaid, and you were galloping much too fast on a dark road – at night!

“Suppose you’d met a car coming the other way?”

“No-one drives up there; the road leads to my place. I might ask why you were there. You startled me.”

“We didn’t know what the rumbling noise was late at night, so we wanted to see what it was.”

“Now you know. You also know what curiosity did to the cat, though, and that could have easily happened to both of you.”

He grinned.

“You could have asked folk what the noise was. Everyone knows it’s me and Polly. I don’t drive when I’ve been to the inn.”

“We did ask, but were advised to mind our own business, that it was a local matter. However, we do know who you are and what you plan to do here.” “And you disapprove?” “Yes!” Betty said firmly. “It breaks our hearts, what you plan to do with this beautiful place. And to pull down Tangara!”

“It’s a dump.”

“It is not!” “You’ve no amenities,” he pointed out.

“We do! We’ve a shower we invented ourselves.”

“Interesting. I suppose it involves the old tin bath.” Betty held in her anger. “That’s none of your concern.”

“It will be, and maybe sooner than you think. I just have to agree a price with Peter John. Enjoy the flowers and I hope your scratches get better soon.”

He went up the path to Kit’s shop.

“What a disagreeable man.” Val put the roses on the table.

“Only when we began talking about his development plans for the place,” Betty observed. “Before that he was polite and apologetic.”

Val went into the kitchen space and found an old jug.

“This’ll do.” She arranged the roses in it. “I still don’t like him.”

Betty observed, though, that Val’s cheeks were red.

“One crusty loaf and two pints of milk.”

Betty looked up from sketching to see Kit.

“I had two pasties left over from this morning’s delivery. I thought you two would like them. On the house.” He sat on the grass beside her deckchair.

“That’s kind of you, Kit. Who’s minding the shop?”

“Closed for lunch. Where’s your friend?”

“Val’s on the beach. She’s snapping the seaweed and shells.”

She pointed to a figure in the distance, crouching with camera poised.

“Val’s determined to secure a winning shot before the tide comes in.”

“I’ve no doubt she will.” Kit grinned. “I see Aircut checking his moorings, keeping a weather eye on her. When the tide turns it comes in with a rush.”

“We had an adventure last night,” Betty confided.

She told him the whole story, including today’s visit by Alexander Grey.

Kit was angry.

“He’d no right to shout at you like that! You could have fallen . . .”

“We didn’t. And we did give him a fright.”

“Want me to have a word with him?”

“No, thank you all the same. Let it be. We’ll just avoid him. You’ve enough worries with all the changes he intends to make here.” Kit sighed.

“We like the place just as it is. No-one wants change, especially Peter John. But I think he’ll be forced to sell Tangara. Grey will make things uncomfortable.”

“I can’t bear to think of it,” Betty said. “We’ve only been here a short while but we love the calm and beauty of the place.”

“It’s money.” Kit sat up and gazed across the bay. “He wants his inheritance to pay for itself.”

“Some people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.”

“You’re right. Whealgrey has a lot of history.”

“Tell me.” Betty put down her drawing pad.

“Well, it’s mostly old memories mingled with a lot of gossip, but there’d be truth in it, I daresay.”

Kit sat up and faced her. “The old mine was thriving and it passed down through the same family of Greys. Then, in the Sixties, it ran dry of tin and Alexander’s uncle sold off all the equipment, leaving only the engine house, chimney and the homestead in which he lived until he died. It became a ruin.”

“Did he have no family?” “Yes, one brother who had emigrated. That’s where the story begins.” Betty was all attention “Well?”

“The brothers, Simon and John Grey, were the last inheritors of Whealgrey. They worked hard together. Then they fell in love with the same girl, Lyndsy Morgan. She agreed to marry Simon and a date was set.

“John was heartbroken and made plans to go to Australia. He sold his share of the mine to Simon.” “Did he ever come back?” “No, never. But he didn’t go to Australia alone.” “He didn’t?” “Someone went with him.” Kit’s eyes twinkled. “Tell me.” “Lyndsy Morgan! She upped and went with John. Simon was broken-hearted. He never married but ran the mine until it failed.” “Poor man.”

“Yes, he was a lonely one. Folk said he stood on the headland gazing out across the waves for hours. He became a recluse. Children would creep up there of an evening, knock on the door and run away. Kids do that kind of thing.”

“A very unkind thing.” Betty frowned.

“They swore they could hear noises coming from the old mine – that it was haunted.”

“Who were the children?” “Me, Aircut and the rest,” Kit admitted.

“Naughty! I hope you’re ashamed of yourselves.”

“We are. The last time we went up there we peeked through the window and he was asleep. So we knocked on the door and ran but nothing happened.” “Was he . . .?”

“Yes. We ran back and raised the alarm, and to cap it all we were praised for our part in finding him. We’ve felt guilty ever since.

“It took years to find the next of kin, Alexander Grey. Now he’s inherited a place of no value except for the land. I still feel bad about teasing that poor old man.”

“We can’t change the past, but we can try to improve the future.”

Kit shrugged. “What can we do?”

As the friends dined on pasties and salad, Betty related the story of Whealgrey.

“What a scandal for such a quiet little place,” Val observed between mouthfuls of pasty. “It’s like a romantic novel. By the way, where did you get these delicious things?”

“Kit brought them when you were beachcombing.”

“Aircut came out on the beach to check the moorings of his fishing boat while I was photographing seaweed. He wanted to know if we’d like to go for a moonlight ride in his boat when the tide turns.” “Did you say yes?” “How could I say no? We might see a mermaid.” Val grinned.

“I hope Aircut’s got lifejackets.”

“I asked about that and he said yes. And we’ve to wear something we don’t mind getting grubby as his boat’s a bit whiffy due to the mackerel.”

Val reached into her pocket and took out a shell. She placed it on the table.

“Look what I found when I was out there. It has some interesting markings on it. I thought it would be a nice keepsake.”

“It looks like a big whelk shell.” Betty picked it up. “Those marks don’t look natural. They look as if someone’s cut them into the shell.”

“Way out there? It must have been under the sea and rolling about in the tide for years.”

Val took the shell from Betty.

“It’s a definite pattern, though. Look, that’s a moon and some stars and – and something that looks like a fish hook.”

“Someone must have been messing about and carving it years ago and just flung it into the water,” Betty suggested.

“I’m going to look it up in my mermaid book. And tonight I’ll show Aircut.” Betty smiled.

“Val, it wasn’t carved by a mermaid, that’s for sure.”

The sun was disappearing as Betty and Val walked to Aircut’s cottage. He was on the shore, his boat pulled up on the sand to make it easier for them to climb aboard and sit side by side.

“I’ve given Saucy Sue a wash down this afternoon so she’s not too smelly. Here’s a couple of lifejackets, and I’ve brought a flask of coffee in case it gets a little cool out there.”

“Thank you, Aircut.” Betty didn’t ask if he’d laced the coffee with his home-made cordial.

“I won’t have you out too long.” He pushed the boat into the water. “But it’s lovely coming back by moonlight and I’ve brought my concertina so we can have a sing-song.”

He pulled a woolly hat down over his ears and picked up the oars.

“Ready?” The outboard motor was clear of the water and secured. “I don’t start her motor till I’m well out of the bay.”

“We noticed that,” Betty said. “We wondered why.”

Aircut pulled on the oars and the boat moved away from the shore.

“I don’t want to disturb the horses, you see. The noise of the outboard would scare them away.”

“What horses? You’re pulling our legs.”

His eyes twinkled. “Seahorses.”

“The white tops of waves when there’s a storm?”

“No, m’dear. Seahorses, the small ones that live among the seaweed at the mouth of the bay. They’ve been there ’undreds of years. Don’t do to disturb them – unlucky, you see.” Betty was stunned. “I thought they were endangered. How do you know they’re there?”

“I’ve known about ’em since I used to go diving as a lad. Thought nothing much of ’em except to leave ’em be. Darling little things, they are. I ’aven’t been diving down there for many a year now.”

He was romancing, Betty thought, just to make this trip exciting. He probably told the same story to all the trippers.

“It’s a long time since you were a boy,” Val said. “Maybe they’re gone now.”

“No, they’re there for ever, ’cause nobody knows about ’em except the Shantymen, me, and now you two, of course. You won’t spread the word and spoil things, will you?” He grinned. “We don’t want to have folks diving about and looking for ’em.”

Betty still didn’t believe him, but she smiled and nodded. After all, they were out here on the sea in the near dark with the only person who could row and start an outboard motor!

They sat and listened to the creak of the oars and the water surging past the bow of the boat as the

Saucy Sue cut through the wavelets.

“I don’t suppose,” Val whispered, “that you believe in mermaids?”

“You can’t live in Cornwall and not believe in the merfolk.”

Now he really was pulling their legs, Betty thought.

“I found a shell on the beach this afternoon.” Val reached into her pocket and held it out for him to take. “It’s very like one in a book I have.”

He shipped the oars and took the shell. There was just enough twilight to see by. He gazed at it closely.

“Well, I never. I ain’t seen one like that for I wouldn’t like to say how long.” “What does it mean?” He turned the shell over in his hand.

“This fish hook thing means that someone is falling in love with you – being hooked, you see. And the moon and the stars, that’s what he’ll be willing to give you.”

He handed the shell back to Val gently.

“The merfolk, they know these things. It was left for you to find. No doubt about that.”

“Oh, Aircut, what a load of twaddle.” Betty sniffed. “Poor Val’s already taken by this mermaid book she bought. Don’t encourage her with fairy tales. We’re both too mature and sensible for romance.” Aircut took up the oars. “Well, you explain it. A seashell on the beach, carved up pretty, set there for your friend to find. What else but something not of this world?”

“Yes,” Val said. “Remember what Shakespeare said about there being more things in heaven and earth.”

“I know what he said!” Betty was exasperated. “It’s an old shell someone threw away. You found it, that’s all.”

Aircut sighed. “Anyone want coffee?” He didn’t set the motor going. They sat in the gently rocking boat, drinking coffee from small enamel mugs. The coffee was delicious and Betty suspected that a little of Aircut’s cordial had been added. Just enough to take the chill off the night air.

The moon rose and Aircut played his concertina while they sang shanties.

“You ladies sing lovely,” Aircut said. “Would you consider singing along with us on the next Shanty Night at the Crab and Mermaid? A bit of feminine harmony would go down a treat.”

“Oh, we’re not that good,” Betty said.

“Come to a rehearsal with us. We’ll soon teach you the harmonies,” Aircut urged. “They’re simple.”

“Come on, Betty,” Val pleaded. “It’ll be fun.” Betty smiled.

“OK, we might enjoy it. When shall we come to a rehearsal?”

“Tomorrow evening.” He stowed the mugs before taking up the oars again. “We’d best get back now the tide’s on the turn. I won’t bother with the outboard motor and I’ll take you right up to your beach. How’s that?” “Perfect,” Val said. As good as his word, Aircut ran the boat up the beach in front of Tangara and they climbed out.

“Give us a shove!” he called and they pushed the boat into the water again and shouted their thanks.

They squelched up the grassy slope and

removed their sandals.

“All that about mermaids seems silly now we’re ashore,” Val said.

“It is silly. It’s part of Aircut’s bit for the tourists.”

“Not the seashell. That’s still a mystery.”

“Rubbish. It’ll be someone’s arts and crafts effort, thrown away.”

“It isn’t late,” Val said. “I think I’ll take some photos in the moonlight. It’s so beautiful out here.”

“I’m going to sit with my book. Don’t go too far.”

“OK, Mum.” Val laughed. “I’ll be very careful of the sea monsters.”

Betty lit the oil lamp and settled down with her book at the table. The roses looked lovely in the light of the lamp and her book was a good rollicking story.

On glancing at her watch, she realised that Val had been gone for an hour.

Don’t fuss, she thought. Val’s a grown woman – she won’t get into any trouble.

Another half hour passed. She went to the door and looked out. Moonlight illuminated the bay. The tide was half out, leaving a strand of foreshore, wet and sparkling. There was no sign of Val.

As she watched the water there was some turbulence near the entrance to the bay and a splashing noise.

“Val!” she shouted as loud as she could.

“I’m here, Betty.” Val approached her, coming along the path that led to Kit’s shop.

She stopped by their car. “Were you worried?” “Yes, I jolly well was,” Betty replied. “Where have you been? You’ve been gone over an hour and a half. I was beginning to wish that we hadn’t decided to leave our mobile phones at home.”

“I’ve been down by the rocks near Aircut’s cottage. I couldn’t go any further because of the tide, but I got some lovely shots of the moonlight on the water.

“It’s so lovely down there that I didn’t notice the time. And there was something else. I’ll tell you when we get indoors.”

“Come in now, it’s getting chilly out here,” Betty said as Val mounted the steps to the door. “I heard a big splash out there just now. Did you see anything in the water?”

“Yes.” Val put her camera on the table and sat down. “I think it was an enormous fish. This huge tail came out of the water and slapped down again.

“I think I was quick enough to get a shot of it. I could see the swirl of it as it went to the mouth of the bay, its tail went up and down again with a splash, then it was gone.”

“I heard it.”

“Look, there it is in the viewfinder.” Val handed the camera to Betty. “It looks like a fish tail, doesn’t it?

“We’ll ask Kit tomorrow if dolphins have been sighted here. Or whales.”

Betty put her hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“A whale would be too big to get into the bay, and it was certainly not a mermaid.”

“I wasn’t even thinking of that,” Val fibbed.

“Well, it’s a good job it didn’t appear earlier. It could have tipped us out of the boat.”

“Dolphins have been sighted occasionally around these parts – seals, too,” Kit told them. “But not for a long while. Did you get a good look at it? Did it jump right out of the water?”

He handed their groceries to Betty.

“No, I only saw the tail,” Val said.

“I heard the splash,” Betty added. “It was loud.”

“It was probably a large fish. There are plenty of those around. It’ll be out at sea now. It was probably looking for food. There are lots of strange things in the sea.”

“Mermaids have a tail like a whale.” Val shrugged. “There’s a drawing of one in my book but not so big.”

“Not the merfolk again!” Betty groaned.

Kit grinned.

“Has Aircut been spinning you a yarn?”

“Lots of them,” Betty declared.

“Don’t take him too seriously, though there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye.” He winked.

“We won’t.” Betty laughed. “By the way, we’re coming to the rehearsal tonight. He’s invited us to provide a bit of feminine harmony to the shanties. We were singing out in his boat last night.”

“Then you must have impressed him. He’s very choosy who he invites to the shanty evenings.”

“We’re looking forward to it,” Val told Kit.

“We’ll see you about seven o’clock. We’ll go round by the road.”

“Watch out for the phantom horseman,” Kit teased.

“He’s no ghost. He’s just an impolite man.”

“One with a good deal of influence and a lot of money.” He frowned.

There was a warm welcome at Aircut’s cottage and places were made for them in the circle of singers.

“Just sing along with us for a while until you get used to it.” Aircut handed them sheets of paper with the words to the shanties. “Then we’ll be able to tell where you’ll fit.”

He took up his concertina and began to play.

The shanties, like hymns, were easy to follow and Betty and Val were familiar with the popular ones.

They were mainly work songs sung by sailors of the old tall ships as they pulled the ropes and turned the capstan to raise and lower the anchor.

“Well done, ladies.” Aircut was pleased. “I’m glad I asked you to join us. Now, which one of you would like to do a solo?”

“You do it, Val. You were always the one who could hold a tune.”

Val blushed but consented to try.

“Good-oh!” Aircut said. “We’ll sing ‘Tom Bowling’. That’s a sad one, perfect for a lady’s voice. We’ll hum in harmony and you can sing the words.”

They began without accompaniment. Val sang the heartrending ballad.

“Well done, lass,” Aircut praised her. “We’ll keep that one in, that’ll get ’em crying.” He grinned.

“I don’t want to make anyone sad!”

“Go on with you.” Aircut winked at Val. “Everyone likes a bit of sad stuff. We’ll round off the evening with ‘The Drunken Sailor’ and everyone can join in. That’ll make ’em happy again.”

“When’s the Shanty Night?” Betty asked.

“Friday.” Kit smiled. “Seven-thirty at the Crab and Mermaid. You two will be on the stage this time.”

Betty felt a shiver of panic.

“Do you think we’re ready?” Val was also nervous.

“Of course you are. We’ll have a couple more rehearsals before the performance, just to make sure.” Aircut put down his concertina. “Just sing natural – you’ll be perfect.”

Val was applauded and asked for an encore of “Tom Bowling” and they both got a supper on the house. Betty felt a sense of belonging as they joined in the banter.

She noticed Alexander Grey sitting in the same corner of the room that he had occupied on their first night at the Crab and Mermaid.

He had cheered with the rest and even stood up to applaud when Val sang her solo. His horse was still tethered in the car park and it was beginning to drizzle with rain.

Poor Polly, Betty thought, there would be another wild midnight ride tonight. But at least the noise of her thundering hooves would be no longer a mystery.

“Don’t look now, Betty, but I think he’s coming over here.” Val rolled her eyes in the direction of the corner of the room where Alexander Grey was getting to his feet and smiling across at them.

“I’ll be polite.” “We’re only here for a short while. We don’t want to make things uncomfortable, do we?” Val reasoned.

“Good evening, ladies.” Alexander Grey bowed his head slightly to them. “The shanties were delightful, and that solo brought tears to my eyes.” “Thank you,” Val replied. Betty just smiled. “May I join you?” He drew a chair up to the table and sat down. “We three haven’t got off to a good start, have we? I’d like to make amends.

“I know I’m not very popular and I’m a rough guy. Can’t help it, I suppose, but I wouldn’t like to have bad feeling between us.”

He gazed at them both with deep blue eyes starred at the corners, his sunbleached hair dishevelled as if the only comb he used was his fingers.

Betty, feeling relaxed and a little euphoric after their success with the Shanty Men, felt herself begin to warm towards him. She took a deep breath.

“It was our fault, too, on the road above Tangara. Maybe we were foolish to appear out of the dark.”

“And I shouldn’t have been a bit over the eight and riding too fast.” He held out a hand. “Shall we begin again?”

Betty hesitated, remembering this was the man who had no feelings for Trefusis Bay or Tangara and was preparing to change the lives of so many residents to suit his own plans.

Val put out her hand and took his in a firm grasp, so Betty did the same. Better friends than enemies, she thought. Maybe they could change his mind in the short time they had here, but she doubted that. He smiled.

“Now, can I offer you a drink?”

‘That’s very kind of you but we’re drinking Adam’s Ale.” She pointed to her glass of water with lemon and ice.

“Then I shall join you, and I promise to ride old Polly at a gentle trot when I return home.”

He beckoned to the landlord and asked for a glass of water with ice and lemon.

“And don’t look so stunned!” he told him.

Betty was relieved that the tension had lifted and their conversation didn’t turn to land development. They discussed sea shanties and Australian folk songs. “One more thing.” “What’s that?” Val asked. “May I have the pleasure of your company tomorrow for dinner at a wonderful restaurant at Land’s End that I’ve discovered? That would be both of you, of course.”

Betty felt a little warning tingle. This was too friendly, too soon.

“I– I think I have one of those summer colds coming on,” she fibbed. “I’d better stay put for a couple of days. I don’t want to spread it around.”

“Have you really?” Val was concerned. “You haven’t said anything to me.”

Betty glanced towards her friend.

“Anyway, I think I must decline your kind offer,” she told Alexander.

“Then I must stay, too, and look after you.” Val patted her friend’s arm.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But surely your friend can cope very well on her own? After all, it’s only a sniffle, isn’t it?” He looked a little too knowingly at Betty. “Oh, of course.”

Oh, dear, she thought, this isn’t what we want at all, and now I’ve got myself into a muddle.

Alexander Grey turned to Val.

“You’ll come, won’t you? Please. I promise not to collect you on old Polly, to drink only water, and I shall drive my car extra carefully.”

Betty looked at Val, hoping she wouldn’t say yes. Hoping she wouldn’t get involved.

There was a short silence as Val took a sip of Adam’s Ale.

“I would be delighted.”

To be continued.