A Good Catch: The perfect Cornish escape full of secrets

Her mother sniffed disapprovingly before saying, ‘Never mind. It will grow.’

Her father loaded her bags into the boot and Greer stepped into the back seat. As with all her father’s cars it was the best he could afford. Top of the range, walnut, soft leather and deep-pile carpet.

‘I like your new car, Dad.’

‘Only picked it up two days ago. Wanted to collect you in style.’ He put the gearstick into drive mode and pulled away from the kerb. Her mother craned round to chat to her daughter.

‘Congratulations on your typing speed and shorthand. And how you’ve mastered the word processor, I’ve no idea. Your father has two in the office. The girls were showing them to me but it’s all so complicated.’ Her mother turned back to face the road.

‘Not when you know how, Mum.’ Greer was looking out of the window, enjoying the sights she hadn’t seen for two long years. The valley to her right held woodland and fields. To her left were the steep lanes leading to Lanhydrock House.

‘There’s a job for a secretary in the office at the moment.’ Her father caught her gaze in the rear-view mirror. ‘Tessa’s going off on maternity leave in a couple of weeks. She says she’ll be back, but she won’t. Women don’t come back once they’ve started a family. But I have to pay her while she’s away. It’s a government con.’

Greer tried to let her father’s misogynistic stream flow over her. She had got what she’d wanted. She’d done a two-year course in interior design at a smart private college in Surrey, and, to keep her father happy, studied for a secretarial course in London during the holidays. That had left her no time to return to Cornwall while she focused on gaining her qualifications, but it meant she’d achieved them as quickly as possible.

‘I got a distinction in my design course.’

There was a tight silence from the front seats.

‘Good,’ her mother finally said.

Greer persevered. ‘Actually, I have a surprise for you.’

Silence.

‘I got Student of the Year.’

She saw her father raise his eyebrows in a look that said, ‘What’s the bloody use of that?’ before her mother managed: ‘That’s nice.’

Greer said nothing more. She knew that she’d done extremely well, despite their dismissive attitude. They could ignore it if they liked, but Greer had worked hard for that distinction and it wouldn’t go to waste, no matter what her father might think. She continued to look out of the window, content to watch the familiar landmarks slide by. Trelawney Garden Centre, the bridge over the river at Wadebridge, and the Royal Cornwall Showground. They continued along the dramatic and romantically named Atlantic Highway until the first sign to Trevay came into view.