SERIAL The Secret Of Trefusis Cove

As Alexander spoke about how he came to be here, Val realised she was seeing another side to him . . .

IACCEPT on two conditions.” Val put down her glass of water. “What would they be?” Alexander was cautious. “That you stop riding that poor horse at breakneck speed in the dark, and leaving her in the car park in the rain. And stop calling us dozy Sheilas!” Alexander grinned. “That’s three, but I agree. I’ll put Polly under the shelter in the back of the car park, beside the empty barrels, and I will ride her gently from now on. And no way are you two dozy!”

****

“Why did you say yes?” Betty asked next morning.

“I thought, if we were friendly, he might change his mind about his plans.”

“I doubt that. He’s what Australians call a battler. He worked hard for his money and won’t give up a chance to make more.”

“There are plenty of people who do the same.”

“You’re right, but the fact remains that he’s going to ruin this place.”

Val sighed.

“I want to talk to him about what distress he’ll cause if he goes ahead with his plans. I don’t suppose anyone’s talked about their real feelings. He’s only had petitions and grumpy folk.

“I wanted us both to be there to try to make him see the real Trefusis.”

“I wish I hadn’t pretended to have a cold,” Betty said. “I thought you’d go along with it and refuse.”

Val grinned.

“The problem now is, what shall I wear? I haven’t brought anything posh and I need to wash my hair.”

“We’ll rummage through our suitcases and see what

“I’m not going to let myself be influenced by what he says”

we can come up with.”

They found a smart white blouse of Betty’s and a pair of neat blue trousers that were Val’s. A filmy scarf completed the outfit.

“I should pass muster.” Val looked at herself in the little mirror in their room.

“Alexander Grey will probably wear his surfing shorts anyway,” Betty joked. “I can’t imagine him dressing up much.

“Val, you will be careful, won’t you? Don’t let him try to persuade you to think the way he does. He may think he can influence Peter about Tangara through us.”

“Betty, it’s only dinner! He must have few friends around here and he wants to make up for being rude.

“Besides, we’re not here for long, and like Kit said at the beginning, we shouldn’t get too involved.”

She patted Betty’s arm. “I’m a grown-up. I won’t be influenced by anything he might say. I’ll accept the meal as an apology and talk to him about the true value of Trefusis Cove. It may not make any difference, but at least I’ll have had my say.” “Don’t be back late.” “I won’t, Mum.” Val grinned.

They heard a car pull up outside the cottage. She peeked through the window by the front door. “Look – a Jaguar!” “Don’t open the door,” Betty advised. “Make him come and knock.”

“He’s getting out of the car. He looks very smart.”

Betty joined her friend at the tiny window.

“You’re right.” She grinned. “Trying to make an impression.”

As Alexander Grey knocked on the door Betty took a tissue from her pocket and covered her nose and mouth with it.

Val opened the door and he stepped over the threshold. He wore black trousers and a smart jacket with a white shirt which showed off his tan.

“You look nice,” he addressed Val.

“How’s the sniffle?” He grinned at Betty. His smile was disarming.

“Not bad,” was her muffled reply.

“We’d better get a move on. I’ve booked a table for eight o’clock.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he produced a packet of cough lozenges.

“I thought these might be handy,” he said to Betty.

“Thank you,” she said. “You really didn’t have to.” He grinned knowingly. “I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t concerned.”

He held the door for Val and she stepped through.

“I’ll bring her back safe and sound!” he called back.

Betty waved goodbye as they walked to the car.

You’d better, she thought.

****

Val settled herself into the passenger seat of the sleek black car and put on the seatbelt. Alexander closed the door.

“Have you been to Land’s End yet?” he asked.

“No, we haven’t been far at all since we’ve been house-sitting.” Val smiled.

Alexander fastened his seat belt, started the engine and the car purred away from Tangara and up the incline to the roadway.

“You’ve a treat in store. It’s spectacular – and the last stop before America.” Val laughed.

As they turned on to the main road they chatted about this and that: the Shantymen, the sea songs and the pasties. Not once did he mention Trefusis Cove and his plans.

“Does Mr Freeman mind you spending so much time away from home?”

“I’m – I’m a widow,” Val explained, feeling the familiar ache in her heart as she said it.

There was a pause. “Sorry, I’ve put my big Aussie foot in it again.”

“It’s OK, really it is. There’s no way you could have known that.” She paused. “Betty, too.”

“We’ve one thing in common. I lost my wife eight years ago. It takes some getting used to.”

“It certainly does – whether you’re brave or not things just have to carry on,” Val replied. “The children help. Do you have a family?”

“Yes, two. Boy and a girl, grown up now with their own families. They’re holding the fort while I’m sorting things out here.” He straightened in his seat and gazed ahead.

They travelled in silence for a while.

“There’s the turning.” He pointed to a sign. “Not long now and we can down a good meal. Hungry?”

“As a hunter!”

He had booked a table for three by a window overlooking the sea. The sun was almost down and bathed the water in a golden light. Soon the moon would rise.

“I booked for three in case Betty changed her mind. Not that I expected her to do so.”

“Betty can be very firm, but I’d hoped she’d change her mind, too.”

“She hasn’t got a cold, has she?” he asked quietly. “No.”

“I sensed disapproval. It’s about my plans for Trefusis Bay, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

The waiter approached their table and Alexander scanned the menu.

“I recommend the seafood – it couldn’t be fresher – and the pâté for a starter. I’ve ordered a special pudding that I think you’ll like.” He looked boyish.

“I’ll go for that, thank you,” Val replied. “You can’t come to Cornwall and ignore the seafood.”

The meal was superb and they chatted about this and that, without once mentioning the subject that was at the forefront of Val’s mind.

At last she spoke. “About your plans for the land and the cove . . .”

“I knew we’d come to that sooner or later.” He smiled. “If Betty had been here it would have been sooner. Why do you care? You’re only here for a short while so it can’t be important to either of you.”

“Everywhere that’s lovely should be important to everyone. Peter John gets inspiration from the cove, and since we’ve been here we realise why.

“It’s a beautiful place and doesn’t deserve to be altered. Sometimes things are better left to change of their own accord, in the fullness of time.”

Val was surprised at her own eloquence.

“I can’t bear the idea of bulldozers wrecking it.”

“You’re passionate about it, aren’t you?”

“We all are,” Val replied. “It’s a little bit of our Britain and it’s beautiful.”

“Nobody’s said much to me. All I’ve had is petitions and dirty looks. There is my side to it, you know.”

He began to tell her the tale Betty had related earlier, about his family and their move to Australia. Val put her hand on his. “I know about that. Everyone does.”

“I don’t need the money, you know. My family made their fortune on the backs of the merino sheep. I inherited the sheep station and invested in property.

“I have three hotels on the Gold Coast and Barrier Reef. That’s where the kids are holding the fort.” He shook his head. “When I was told I’d inherited land in Cornwall it was a shock. It wasn’t until I came here that I was told the whole story. Mum died years ago without mentioning anything.

“When I got here I just wanted to try to make things different so the whole thing would be forgotten. Not for gain. Burying the past, you might call it.”

“You can’t. Its history is everyone’s history. Kit’s, Aircut’s and the Shantymen, to name a few. They were boys when your uncle died. They were the ones who found him and raised the alarm.

“It’s all in the past, their past, and they’d change things if they could, but you can’t wind the clock back.

“It must have been years before the authorities found you.”

“It was. And what of you two? How did you come to house-sit for Peter John?”

“We went to his art class in our local town. He asked if we would look after Tangara for the summer.” “Are you good at art?” “Betty has an eye for it, but I’m a bit of a dud. The only thing Peter John admired in my pictures was a little ladybird. So I took to the camera.”

“Best to stick at what you’re good at.” He smiled.

“I don’t know if I’m good at that yet. I’m trying to get a shot good enough to enter for the Countryfile Calendar Competition.” “What’s that?”

“It’s on TV every week.” “Don’t watch much telly. Just the news and stuff. I’d like to have seen the ladybird, though. That’s one of those little red fellas with spots, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Val laughed. “There’s some of those up on my bit of land behind Tangara, just across the road along the top. Take a look whenever you feel like it before I arrange to clear it up for the holiday chalets.”

“That’s sad,” Val said quietly. “It’s so beautiful in the late afternoon, with the setting sun on it. It would be a shame to change it.” Alexander shrugged. “Mum used to say, pretty don’t butter no parsnips. It’s lying fallow, doing nothing to earn its keep.” Val frowned.

“It’s doing everything! There’s wildlife that live there: birds, butterflies and all sorts of creatures. It’s very much alive.”

The waiter took away their plates and a waitress came with a large platter.

“I think you’re going to like this.” Alexander smiled.

On the platter was a confection of white meringue, light as a ballerina’s tutu, topped with cream and summer fruits in profusion.

“Do you know what it is?” Val laughed with delight. “Of course, a pavlova!” “Right first time. Let’s tuck in. If we hold back our appetites there’ll be enough to take home to Betty.”

Val sensed that the conversation about Trefusis Bay was over.

“I’d like you to see the signpost at the land’s end. There’s a bright moon and the signs are very interesting. But first I’ll ask them to pack up the remains of the pavlova. I’ll put it in the car for Betty.” “She’ll love that.”

“It might make up for the sniffles.” He grinned.

The air struck chill as they emerged from the restaurant and walked to the signpost. There were more people there, reading the signs and having their photographs taken despite the darkness. The sound of the sea was all around.

“I wish I’d brought my camera,” Val mourned.

“You can always come back in daylight. Look, it tells you how many miles to America. My home is more miles than that.” He sighed.

“The moon’s making a path across the water.”

“It’s called a moonfleet,” he replied.

“It’s beautiful.” Val shivered in the cool night air. Betty’s blouse didn’t provide much warmth.

“You’re cold!” He noticed. “Here, take my jacket.”

He removed it and put it around Val’s shoulders. It still held the warmth of him and the smell of aftershave.

She shivered a little again, but not from the cold. It had been a long time since she had experienced the shared warmth of a man’s jacket and his thoughtfulness.

“That better?” “Much better, thank you,” she replied. “But what about you?” He laughed.

“I’m just trying to live up to that disreputable intrepid Aussie image that we all seem to carry. I’ll be OK.”

Val sensed he was playing down his kindness. She held the jacket round her as they read the signs on the post.

It was a strange feeling, standing on the edge of Britain, not wanting the evening to end.

“Will Betty wait up?” he asked. “I promised to return you safe and early.”

“She’ll probably go to bed.” Val settled herself into the passenger seat of the car. “Would you like your jacket back now?”

“Keep it around you, I’m fine.” He started the motor.

“We didn’t know you had a car like this.”

“I have a pick-up, but I hired this one for the evening, for a treat and also to impress you two. Show I’m not just a barbarian!”

“Oh, look at the bay – it’s so lovely in the moonlight when the tide’s up.”

They were back at Tangara. Val unclasped her seat belt, opened the door and stepped out.

Alexander came and stood beside her.

“I’ve never spared the time to stop and look.”

“Then you’ve missed a lot. It won’t be the same with moorings and pleasure boats lined up for hire. The magic will melt away.”

“Things change.” He shrugged. “They have to.”

“They don’t – well, not much.” Val laughed. “I wouldn’t mind a new bathroom at Tangara.” “I’ve other plans for it.” Val suddenly remembered his plans for the cottage and the pressure he’d be putting on Peter John in order to acquire it. She changed the subject.

“I love the way the tide surges around that big rock opposite Aircut’s place.” She pointed out to the large grey rock silhouetted against the moonlight.

“Yes,” he agreed. “What’s that on top of it?” “Where?”

“It looks like some sort of sculpture, right on the edge.” He pointed.

“I see it now. It wasn’t there before . . . it moved! It’s alive!” Val gasped. “Probably a seal.” “No – I believe it’s got arms,” Val whispered. Alexander looked at her. “I don’t think it’s a mermaid, Val.”

“Stay here – I’m going to get my camera.”

Val ran towards Tangara and mounted the steps two at a time. She hurried into the bedroom and rummaged in her bag. Betty opened her eyes.

“What’s happening?” she asked sleepily.

“I must find my camera. There’s a mermaid on Aircut’s rock!”

She found the camera. “Val, don’t be a silly goose! There’s no such –” But Val was gone.

She was breathless when she reached Alexander.

“Too late, I’m afraid.” He smiled. “I’m pretty sure it was a seal. It slipped down into the water and was away in a flash.”

“Darn it!” Val was disappointed. “It had arms, I’m sure of it. When it went into the water did you notice if it had a tail?” “Of course it did.” “Big tail or little?” she questioned him further.

“I hardly noticed. A big tail, I think.”

“There you are!” Val was triumphant. “Seals only have flippers, so it couldn’t have been a seal.”

“It was,” he argued. “And to cap it all, it was bald. Aren’t mermaids supposed to have long, silky hair?”

“Yes.” Val looked woebegone. “It must have been a big seal, after all.”

“Are you sure you only drank water this evening?” Betty was behind them. “Of course.” Alexander turned and grinned. “I think the mermaid was wishful thinking on Val’s part.” “I was so sure,” Val said. “You’re taking that mermaid book too much to heart.” Betty laughed. “What book?” he asked. “We found it in a shop on the way here,” Betty replied. “I believe it’s for children, really.”

“I’d heard you had an interest in local legends. Aircut told the pub landlord and he told me.”

“You could have strung me along and agreed that it was a mermaid, just for fun,” Val admitted. “I wouldn’t do that.”

All three of them walked back to the car, Betty holding her dressing-gown tight around her. When they reached the car Alexander smiled at them.

“Thank you, Val, for a memorable evening. I admire a lady who isn’t

afraid to speak her mind. You’ve given me much to think about.”

“I enjoyed it, too. Thank you, Alexander.”

“There are two things I’d like to ask.”

“What are those?” “The first is to call me Alex, please. It’s more friendly. And . . .” “What?”

“Can I have my jacket back, please?”

“Oh, my goodness!” Val had forgotten she was still wearing it. “Thank you for the loan of it.”

“No worries.” He reached over to the back seat “Don’t forget the pavlova.”

He handed over the box with the remains of their pudding to Val. He started the motor and turned the car at the end of their lane.

Val raised a hand to wave at the car tail lights. “Goodnight, Alex.” Betty put an arm around her shoulders.

“Come inside. I’ll make hot chocolate, then you can tell me all about your evening. It’s chilly.”

“I don’t feel cold at all,” Val replied.

“Did the evening go well?” Betty asked as she made the hot chocolate. “Yes, it was lovely.” Betty saw Val was tired. “We can talk in the morning,” she offered.

Val cupped her hands around the mug.

“He – I mean, the evening was not what I’d expected.”

“Was it difficult to make conversation?”

“Not at all. He was a gentleman. He knows the whole story about his uncle and the mine, but he found it all out only recently.

“It was only when he got a letter from the solicitors about the inheritance and came to England that he was told the story.”

Val pushed the box on the table towards her friend.

“Here’s half a pavlova for you. Alex insisted we bring it back for you.”

Betty laughed. “Thanks, but not right now. I’ll tackle it tomorrow, but now we must sleep.”

She took the empty mugs to the little kitchen and put them in the sink.

“You curl up in bed and dream of mermaids, Val.”

“I probably shall,” was the sleepy reply.

The following morning Val told her friend about the previous evening. Betty listened attentively.

“The evening was much better than I expected. I thought there would be awkward moments, but there weren’t. I wish you’d come, too.”

“It sounds as if you did well on your own. I might have been too outspoken.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Val replied. “Alex was so nice and friendly. He’d hoped you’d come, too.” Betty shook her head. “What we have to remember is that he wants to make Peter an offer for Tangara. Peter may be tempted to agree to sell and then regret it later. Alex may think we could influence him.”

“Let’s hope that the art exhibition in London goes well for him, then.”

“Hear, hear! But the rest of the land belongs to Alexander Grey and he’ll change all that.”

Val grinned.

“We’ll be carrying protest banners next!”

“By the way, Kit called in while you were out. Aircut wants us to go to his place this evening for a rehearsal. He’s worked out new harmonies for the shanties. We’re to sing again!”

“Do we have to? I really wanted to have an early night.” Val sighed.

“Yes, we do. Come on, it’ll be fun. You enjoyed it before. We can relax this afternoon and do artwork.”

“OK. I want to take my camera and have a good look at that rock while the tide’s out. Whatever it was may have left some clues.”

“I don’t think seals leave many clues.” Betty smiled.

The evening was fine, though cloudy, as they walked to Aircut’s cottage. Val declared she was looking forward to the rehearsal now.

She hoped Aircut wouldn’t spike the coffee with his special cordial. Comforting though it was, they still had to walk all the way back to Tangara afterwards.

Reaching the gate, they went down the path to the front door and knocked.

“Ladies, how nice to see you both. I hope you’re in fine voice tonight.” Aircut led them into the parlour.

All the Shantymen were there, including Kit.

Aircut indicated an addition to the company.

“I’d like you to meet my niece. She’s here for a few days’ holiday to stay with her old uncle.”

The girl came forward and extended a hand. She was tall and slender with long blonde hair and her voice was soft and gentle. They shook hands with her. “Do you sing, too?” Aircut laughed. “Sally?” He looked around at the Shantymen, who grinned. “Sally couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. She’ll just listen and enjoy.”

“Aircut!” Betty was shocked. “That’s unkind.”

“Don’t worry.” Sally assured Betty. “I know I’ve got a singing voice like a foghorn. I’m happy to listen, or even conduct if needed.”

She settled herself on a stool by the stove.

The rehearsal went very well. At one point Aircut had to ask Sally to conduct.

“Kit’s coming in too soon on the harmony.”

It was dark when the rehearsal was over. Some of the Shantymen stayed for coffee and biscuits but Betty and Val decided to go back to the cottage.

Kit walked with them. As they reached the turning that overlooked Tangara, Betty could see the headlights of a vehicle coming along the top road above the cottage from the direction of the old mine.

“Might be Alexander Grey,” Kit said. “Strange, he’s usually on his horse going the other way.”

“If it’s him, maybe he didn’t go to the inn tonight,” Betty said.

As they watched, the vehicle suddenly swerved to the left and they heard a screech of brakes as it went over the edge above Tangara.

The three were transfixed for a moment as it came to a halt halfway down the slope, caught up in a jumble of roots and bushes.

Then the hooter started as if someone had a hand on it or had fallen over it.

“It’s Alexander’s pick-up!” Kit ran to the scene.

Aircut, the Shantymen and Sally had heard the noise and came to see what had happened. The lights of the pick-up were still on and the hooter blared.

Betty heard Aircut shout to his niece.

“Sally, phone everything – fire, police, ambulance. Come on, lads, we’ll grab the gear and get over there. We must do something!”

They ran back into the cottage and reappeared laden with ropes and block and tackle.

Betty hadn’t realised that she could run so fast. Val kept pace with her. They were passed by Aircut and the Shantymen.

“What can they do?” Val panted.

“Don’t know,” Betty replied. “But they must try to do something before the pick-up falls any further.”

“Betty, poor Alex! Do you think he’s . . .”

“Don’t ask that. Please God, let the emergency services get here soon.”

When they arrived at the scene Aircut and company were already fixing up the block and tackle to a tree and preparing to lower a rope to the vehicle.

“Alex!” Val shouted above the noise of the hooter. “Can you hear us?”

There was a long pause before he answered.

“Yes, I can hear you, but I can’t move. My arm’s trapped. The ute is wobbling a bit. I don’t want to crash to the bottom.”

“We’re lowering someone down. Don’t move,” Aircut shouted. “Are you hurt?”

“A bit shaken. I’m more scared than anything.”

They lowered Kit carefully down the slope with a rope tied around his waist and the hook of the block and tackle attached safely to it, until he was next to the window of the pick-up.

Betty and Val could hear Kit shouting to Alex.

“Are you trapped? Can

you move?”

The paramedics arrived. Betty explained the whole incident.

“Someone has gone down on a rope to the driver.”

“The door’s jammed. I can’t open it from out here so I’m going to try to get him out through the window,” Kit called.

“Don’t, he may be injured!” a medic replied. “If the vehicle is unstable it may fall at any moment.”

“I’m not injured,” Alex’s voice called. “I’m going to try to get out. It’s just my arm. Strewth! I can’t shift the flamin’ door.”

Betty and Val watched Kit reach in through the window. Val put her hands over her eyes.

“If you can get him out and both get hold of the rope, we can haul you up with the block and tackle!” Aircut shouted. “If you can, switch off the engine and take off whatever’s pressing on the hooter. It would help not to have that racket going on.”

Kit turned off the motor. “His arm’s stuck through the steering wheel!” he called. “I’m shifting him off the hooter.”

Silence followed. “Oh, Betty!” Val put her hand on her friend’s arm. Kit called again.

“I’ve managed to get his arm free. I’m sure it’s not broken but it’ll be badly bruised. The door’s jammed so I’m going to get him out of the window.”

Val gasped.

“He’s too big! He’ll get stuck.”

Betty thought so, too, but just put her arm around Val’s shoulder.

The group up on the roadway, including the police, watched as slowly and carefully Alex managed to scramble nearly free of the window.

At last Kit grabbed him and they both swung out over the drop.

Aircut and the Shantymen hauled on the rope as Kit and Alex, hanging on for dear life, gradually reached the top of the incline.

The paramedics grabbed Alex and laid him down on the ground.

“I’m OK,” Alex insisted. “I don’t need any help.” “That’s for us to say.” They examined him and asked questions. His arm was badly bruised and he was visibly shaken.

“We’re taking you to hospital for a check-up.”

“What made you swerve?” an officer asked.

“Bloomin’ rabbit!” Alex answered. “The little blighter sat in the middle of the road. I swerved to miss him and went straight over the edge.”

“And the bunny got off scot free.” The officer grinned. “Could you just blow into this, please, sir?” he asked politely.

“He doesn’t need a breath test. He’d never drink and drive,” Val defended him.

Betty sighed.

“Val, they have to check.” “OK, mate, I’ll give it my best blow,” Alex said wryly. The test proved negative. The paramedics drove off to the hospital with Alex just as the fire brigade arrived and surveyed the scene. They began to lower cables to the stricken vehicle.

“Oh, Betty, I’m so glad that it’s all over, with no-one hurt.” Val sighed.

Then there was a sound of branches snapping and a groaning noise as Alex’s pick-up slowly slid down the incline and crashed into the rear of Tangara Cottage.

“Lor’ lumme!” Aircut said. “The night’s not over yet.”

The firemen lowered cables and two of their men down to secure the pick-up and then hauled it up to the road.

“If the driver had been in it he’d have been killed,” one of them said. “As it is, no-one should go into that cottage until we’ve checked it’s safe to do so.”

“But we’re staying there!” Betty said.

“Not tonight, you’re not,” he replied. To be continued.