The Postcard: Escape to Cornwall with the perfect summer holiday read

‘I’m very busy, but thank you.’ She took the flowers. ‘I’d offer you tea or something but—’

He stepped over the threshold. ‘That’s very kind of you. I’d love a coffee. I won’t keep you long as I have a busy afternoon ahead.’

Penny frowned. She had been about to tell him that she had a busy afternoon ahead. ‘I don’t have much time myself,’ she said acidly.

He pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down. ‘What a lovely kitchen.’

‘Thank you.’ She filled the kettle whilst quietly hating him.

‘Are all the cupboards original?’ he asked, looking around.

‘Yes. Do you take milk? Sugar?’

‘Black, two sugars. They look Edwardian.’

‘They are.’ What was this, Bargain Hunt? ‘Here’s your coffee.’

‘Thanks. How long have you been here?’

‘A while.’ She looked pointedly at the wall clock above the Aga.

‘I’m sorry – I’m being intrusive. I’m just interested in getting to know the village and my neighbours and all that stuff before Adam comes down.’

In spite of herself she was interested. ‘Ah yes. Where is he at the moment?’

‘Finishing off some odds and ends at his old practice – he’ll be here before Christmas though. I’ve been sent ahead to get the cottage set up with all his little home comforts. I’ve got a builder coming later this morning. I have permission to put in a couple of skylights.’

‘Oh? I thought all the building work had been finished.’ She took a mouthful of coffee and thought of all the noise and dust she had just endured.

‘I’m a painter. The spare bedroom will be my studio and the roof windows will give me the northern light that is so good.’

‘Who’s your builder?’

‘Bob. Bob the builder.’ Kit laughed at his own joke.

Penny smiled and said ‘Sinewy bloke? Very brown? Favours short shorts and always has a cigarette on?’

‘That’s him.’

‘He’s known as Gasping Bob.’

‘Behind his back, I hope?’

‘No, no. To his face. Almost all the locals have nicknames here: Dreadlock Dave, Flappy, Twitcher, Simple Tony—’

‘Simple Tony? That’s a bit un-PC, isn’t it?’

‘Not here, and anyway, it’s what he likes to be called. He’s a dear man and a very good gardener.’

‘I’m looking for a gardener. Perhaps you could give me his number?’

‘He doesn’t have a phone. He says they make him go all fizzy or something. But you’ll find him in the back garden of Candle Cottage. Polly owns the house and she lets Tony have the Shepherd’s Hut there. Best let Polly introduce you to Tony as he’s a bit shy.’

‘Is he good? At gardening?’

‘Well, put it this way, a couple of years ago Alan Titchmarsh came to open the village summer fayre and Tony gave him a few tips.’

Kit drained the last of his coffee. ‘Great. I’ll get in touch.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Well, I’d best be off. Gasping Bob said he’d be here by two thirty and I know you’ve got a lot to do.’

Penny felt a sudden fear of being left on her own in the house. Simon had taken Jenna out in order to let her absorb the news of her mother and think more about contacting her sister. ‘Go for a walk on the beach,’ he’d said. ‘The fresh air will help clarify your thoughts.’ But now she found the company of Kit, a stranger, very important to her sanity.

‘Don’t go. Not yet. Bob’s not known for his timekeeping. Let me make you another coffee?’

Kit looked surprised but he accepted and watched as Penny filled the kettle from the old brass tap over the butler’s sink.

With her back still to him, she said, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been rude. I had some bad news yesterday. My mother died.’

Kit looked at her with concern. ‘I’m so sorry. And it’s me who has been rude. I shouldn’t be here. Would you like me to go?’

‘No. Please stay. She and I didn’t get on very well and I haven’t seen her for quite a while. But, it’s still been a shock.’

‘It must be.’

Penny nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. It’s made me feel rather numb and … I can’t explain it.’ She brushed away the embarrassing tears that had sprung from nowhere. ‘It feels unreal.’

‘I’m a good listener and very discreet if you want to talk?’

She shook her head. ‘That’s kind, but I’m fine. It has felt good just being able to say the words out loud to somebody. I am going to have to say it a lot more now, I suppose. I have to tell people that my mother is dead. It’s convention, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t know. We could practise it a few times if you like.’ She shook her head and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

He continued, ‘Or we could talk about something else?’

‘Oh, let’s talk about something else.’ She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and rubbed at her tired eyes. ‘Let’s talk about you. What do you paint?’

‘Ah well, I paint landscapes for myself, and portraits for money. That’s why I’ve come down here with Adam, actually. I have a commission to paint Lady Carolyn Chafford of Chafford Hall, near Launceston.’

‘How very posh!’

‘Not quite as she sounds. She and her husband bought the title – feudal, of course, so not in the peerage – with the manor, but they are very nice and very loaded, so she’ll do for me.’

‘And tell me about your partner, Adam.’

‘Partner?’ A frown wrinkled Kit’s clear brow then he started to laugh. ‘He’s not my partner. He’s my cousin.’ He sat back in his chair and tipped his head to the ceiling, letting out a deeply infectious laugh. ‘Oh my God, that’s why Queenie said the dogs were like children to me!’ He reached for a handkerchief in his jeans and wiped his eyes. ‘She’s very open-minded, I’ll give her that. Wait till I tell Adam.’

Penny was smiling too. ‘Typical Queenie. She loves a gossip. She was convinced you were going to be the only gays in the village.’

Kit blew his nose and put his handkerchief back. ‘Oh, that’s so funny. Sorry to disappoint her, but Adam and I have lived together, practically from birth. Adam lost his dad in the Falklands War and so his brother, my dad, took him and Auntie Aileen in and we grew up as brothers.’