Twisting his head around, he swallowed. It was Imogen, clutching her weekend bag, blonde hair gleaming. Walking toward her, he looked at the holdall; she was leaving. If only he could have loved her, but she didn’t have the fighting spirit and impulsive behaviour that he adored so much in Carly. Imogen had never been his best friend. Life would be easy with her, but he didn’t want easy; he wanted the girl he fell in love with five years ago.
He owed Imogen though, she could have made things far more difficult for him — he certainly deserved it. Pushing through the crowd, he hugged her.
“Thanks,” he said, knowing it was not enough. But Imogen would be happy again soon, she wasn’t a girl that would remain single for long.
She took a deep breath and stepped back, holding her head high. “I’m going now, there’s no point in me staying here. I can see what’s happening, it’s Carly again, like it’s always been.”
“I’m sorry.” He truly was, Imogen was a nice girl and he’d treated her badly. It would have been better for all of them if he’d admitted his feelings earlier. “Let me take you to the train station.”
“No, I’ve ordered a taxi, I don’t want anything else from you.” She looked at him with dignity.
Daniel nodded. “I’ll always be here for you, Imo, if you ever need anything. And I know that soon you’re going to meet someone wonderful, who will love you as you deserve. I’m sorry it couldn’t be me.”
“You were lost many years ago. How can I compete with a first love? I think you’ll be happy though. I didn’t know what to expect when I met her, but I can see that she’s right for you. Carly will stand up to you, and I didn’t, I let you run our relationship, because I knew you didn’t feel as strongly about me as I did for you, and that was wrong. We never would have been happy together, there was always a shadow in the room.” She blinked rapidly. “We had good times though, so I don’t regret it, but I do want you to sort things out with her. I’d feel better if there was a damn good reason for us splitting up.”
Daniel nodded. “Take care,” he said.
He watched her stride to the edge of the harbour, a head taller than everyone else. She never would have fitted in here; she didn’t have that small town understanding Carly had, where you accepted all the various different personalities as part of Haven Bay. And it would have been cruel to marry Imogen, knowing she was second best.
Where was Carly though? Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the people clustered around the kiosks, munching chestnuts and drinking hot chocolate. The success of the sailing race had revitalised the visitors, who now jostled along the harbour rail waiting for the children’s sailing competition to start.
Which he was supposed to be judging! In the excitement of the race and saying goodbye to Imogen, he’d forgotten all about it. Pushing through the crowds to the rail, he unhooked the chain barrier and went quickly down the steps to the floating jetty again. It shook under his feet as he hurried across to the cruiser where Russell waited for him, looking amused.
“You’re late,” his friend said. “Distracted by that attractive blonde?”
“She’s a friend, or at least, I hope she is.” He dropped into a seat, closing his eyes when the engine roared and the boat began to move.
“Call yourself a lifeguard?” Russell said.
“True.” Turning around, he watched the line of triangular sails bobbing at the start line, becoming fainter as they headed across the bay. Once, he and Carly had been there, eager to get started, watching their competitors with a keen eye that made them seem older than their years. So much had changed since then, it was a shame they couldn’t go back to that time and start again, but it was impossible. They could only learn to live with the consequences. Tilting his head back, he stared at the black cliffs looming out of the water against the grey sky, flakes of snow swirling down and vanishing into the green waves. He glanced down at the water; would he ever be able to sail this stretch again without a shudder?
“Where do you want to stop?” Russell said, slowing the engine.
“Here’s fine, we have to watch the last marker and be on hand in case anyone needs rescuing.”
Russell put the cruiser into reverse and dropped the anchor. In silence, they bobbed, watching the swoop of sails racing toward them, tiny figures in bright orange life jackets. Daniel narrowed his eyes, standing to gaze at a small craft, which leant too far to the right. “Trim it,” he muttered.
“It’s going over,” Russell said, jumping up.
The boat wobbled and a scream echoed across the water as it flipped into the sea. Daniel reached for a rope, but almost immediately, a support vessel hooted and headed toward the capsized boat. It was nearer than him, so he watched, looping the rope around his hand and elbow as the child, instead of panicking, tried to straighten his craft. That was a lad who would do well; he’d lose this race, but probably not the next.
“They’ve got him,” Russell said.
“They ought to help him right the craft and let him carry on.”
“His parents might feel differently, it’s December.”
“Not if they’re sailors they won’t.” He leant on the rail, watching the crew lift the child into the boat, who, from the grin on his face, didn’t seem too perturbed at losing the race. Anyone could win, after all, it took real skill to get rescued by the lifeboat.
“Which marker do we need to watch them around?” Russell said.
Daniel nodded to a large orange buoy bobbing in the centre of the harbour. “We must keep an eye out for other boats too, we’ve put out notices that the harbour will be closed for the afternoon, but there’s a chance someone might not have heard, we don’t want a speedboat racing in during the kids’ sailing.”
“Nothing yet, just a few seagulls.” Russell shielded his eyes to peer across the water. “It’s great to have you back, how long are you staying for?”
“I’m not sure yet, depends on circumstances.”
“Between you and Carly?”
“How do you know about that?”
“The fact you vanished home with her at the sailing club party was a large hint.” Russell grinned. “Poor Ali, left standing alone by the sausage rolls with no way of getting home.”
“It’s going to take a really big Christmas present before she’ll forgive me.”
Staring across the harbour, he kept his gaze on the small sails making their way toward him — no more accidents on his watch. Spray, laced with salt, landed on his lips and he moistened them, his nose numbing as he breathed in the freezing winter air. Small yellow lights were switching on along the harbour, snow blurring them to a soft glow in front of the brown skeletons of trees. Even winter couldn’t dim the beauty of Haven Bay.
The dinghies swept around the marker, a couple touching it, which he pretended not to see, and one going around it the wrong way, which he couldn’t ignore. Marking the boat’s number, he made a mental note to have a brief word with the small sailor, who needed to be aware of the risk of collisions.
“I think it’s going to be number three,” Russell said, squinting as the miniature fleet headed back to the finishing line.
Daniel shook his head. “Wrong position, she’ll lose her wind in a few minutes. It’s going to be boat eight, which one of my small cousins is sailing; hopefully there won’t be any moaning about favouritism.”
“They’ll just think it’s good genes.” Russell stretched and yawned. “Time to head back, I think, it’s getting dark.”
Daniel sat back in his seat, wiping snow from his face. They’d been right to bring forward the gala, the weather was getting worse. People were already on their way home, patches of brown cobblestone gleamed on the harbour, which had been packed with sightseers when he set off. Hopefully they had made enough money, else the rest of the town would never let Carly forget it.
• • •
Daniel pushed open the shop door and a blast of warm air hit his face, the snowfall that ended the gala yesterday had eased off, but it was still bitterly cold. He yanked off his sailing gloves, put down his hood and breathed in the scent of cinnamon. Carly’s place was tidy, the shelves filled with attractive merchandise. He hadn’t found her after the fête, although Mick looked shifty when he questioned him: it had been clear that she didn’t want to be found.
“With you in a sec!” Carly said.
He spotted her behind the cash till, leaning over a large box. He admired her bottom, encased in dark blue trousers, and waited for her to turn around. When she did, her mouth dropped open.
“Daniel, what a surprise. Thanks for helping with the gala. Sorry I had to go, I needed to take the funds raised to the bank.”
“That’s all right, I think most people had gone by then anyway. How much did you make?”
“Including a mysterious cheque for ten thousand pounds that arrived this morning, we made twenty-three thousand. Only just short of our target.”
“That’s brilliant, well done.”
“It isn’t though, is it? Without that cheque, it would have been a disaster, just thirteen thousand. I might as well have saved myself all the trouble and held a Christmas car boot sale in the sailing club car park like Duncan originally wanted.”
“I doubt you’d have got such a large donation for setting up a few tables and chairs. It took hard work to arrange what you did, and everyone loved it. They were talking in the pub last night about doing a Winter Gala every year. The kids had a great time, and don’t forget it’ll be on the local news so you might get some more money arriving in the post. Most of Cornwall knows about the need for the new lifeboat now.”
She smiled. “The cameras came because of you and Imogen, they wouldn’t have been here for any other reason.”
“That’s how it works and if it brings in money, what does it matter? Charities have always had figureheads.”
“I suppose so; I feel bad it cost you so much though.”
Daniel caught his breath, tempted to tell her how much he earned in the last year from sponsorship deals and after dinner speaking. But it would sound like he was boasting.
“I would have paid it anyway,” he said. “I decided to donate after we visited the lifeboat station. They saved your life, Carly, and mine, because if you’d died due to my mistake, I couldn’t have lived with myself.”
She motioned her lips and looked down at the Christmas boxes by her feet. “Thank you anyway, we appreciated the donation. Now, what are you doing here? Can I get you anything?”
“My mother told me this was the best place to come for Christmas presents.”
The corners of her lips tilted up. Clearly, she was not immune to compliments, not even when they came from him.
“I’m no good at choosing gifts though,” he said. “Could you help?”
“If you’re not in a hurry, as I have to finish the last of the Christmas hamper orders. Have a look around while you’re waiting.”
Daniel peered into one of the boxes, it was full of cheese portions wrapped in greaseproof paper and jars of dark brown chutney.
“Do you deliver those yourself?” he said.
“I have a driver.” Her green eyes narrowed. “I’ve been running this place for quite a while now.”
Now he had annoyed her, sounded patronising; of course she could manage, but he hated to see her struggle. Turning away, he strode around the shop, stroking a soft jumper on a table by the window.
“Cashmere,” she said. “The pink one would suit Ali, she’s been in several times admiring it, but Steve’s wages won’t stretch that far.”
He shook the sweater out and held it up. “Would it fit her?” He frowned.
Carly grinned. “It’s for after the child’s born. She’ll want some nice things to wear to remind herself of the days when she didn’t used to be covered in baby sick.”
“What size?”
“Go for a twelve. It you buy too small, it’ll break her heart, or make her crash diet.” She taped the last box. “What else do you need?”
“Presents for my young cousins, I was wondering about your wooden ships in the window?”
“Your sister’s already bought those, but I’ve got a matching train set in the back you could give them as a joint gift. It’s quite big.”
“May I see it?” He wanted to prolong his visit.
She went through a doorway behind the desk and he heard a loud bang. Should he offer to help? But it had annoyed her last time, instead he looked past the counter, drawing back when she emerged pushing a small wheeled trolley with a large box on top. Removing the lid, he glanced at a red wooden train and black painted tracks. Great, the kids would love it.
“How much?”
“Thirty pounds.”
Opening his wallet, Daniel held out a cash card, it felt strange to be paying her, but she took it easily and beeped it through a machine. Of course, she took money from people she knew all day.
“Receipt,” she said.
He reached out to take it and his fingers brushed against hers, the soft touch sending a jolt up his arm. She spoke and he leaned closer, certain he had misheard.
“Coffee?” she repeated.
“I’d love some, it was cold out on the water today.”
She nodded and he cursed himself for his lack of tact. It would have been better not to mention his morning sail. She didn’t comment though, going instead to the door and turning the sign to ‘closed.’
“We’ll drink it in the back,” she said. “Warmer.”
Daniel followed her into a small yellow sitting room with a coral sofa, gas fire and black granite work shelf fitted above a fridge. A tree decorated in silver and blue stood in the far corner.
“I was expecting an upturned orange crate and a flask,” he said.
“I keep my stock in the cellar.” She smiled and he saw a glimpse of the girl he had known. “I often sleep here during the summer months, there’s a small shower room out the back.”
An image of her showering appeared in his mind and he sank onto the sofa, grateful that she couldn’t read his thoughts. Carly poured the coffee, placing the cups on a low wooden table in front of him.
“We need to talk,” she said.
He jumped and spilled droplets of coffee on his trousers.
“Why did you come back?” she said, sipping her drink.
“I wanted to see you.” There was no point pretending otherwise. “To check you were all right.”