What Happens In Cornwall...

Samantha gave her a sceptical look. These days, with all the problems at home, she felt anything but great. Karen, on the other hand, was looking really good. She had never been overweight, but now she was as slim as Sam and, with her short blonde hair, she looked athletic as well as pretty. Sam remembered that for several years until she had moved into serious training with the national coaching squad, they had been running partners. By the looks of her, Karen was keeping up her fitness. She managed to summon a smile in return. ‘Hi Karen, it’s good to see you, too, but, to be honest, I’m not feeling particularly great.’

Karen shook her head. ‘Well you’re looking good all the same. Does the not-feeling-great thing have anything to do with your man?’ A shadow crossed Sam’s face.

‘Afraid so, Karen.’

‘Relationship not going swimmingly?’

‘About to sink without a trace, to be honest.’ With an effort, she succeeded in putting aside her irritation at the mention of Neil and managed another smile. It really was good to see Karen again after so long. ‘The less said about my man the better. Anyway, you’re not looking so bad yourself. In fact, you’re looking slim and lovely. Does this mean you’re on the streets again?’

Karen’s eyebrows raised and she grinned. Realising what she had said, Sam hastened to clarify. ‘I mean are you out running round the streets again? You look as if you are.’ She nodded appreciatively. ‘You’re looking very fit.’

‘I do a bit of running, now and then. But mostly it’s just the stress.’ Before Sam could ask what she meant, Karen jumped to her feet. ‘Now, how about a G & T?’

Karen left the table and went up to the bar to order two gin and tonics. In fact, Sam had hardly touched gin for quite a few years, but this had been their chosen drink in their final year at school when they were doing their best to appear grown up and sophisticated. When Karen returned, Sam was flipping through the book on the table. She looked up with a smile.

‘You going for promotion?’ Sam pointed at the cover. ‘The Greatest Press Baron of All Time? Bit of a mouthful of a title. Learn anything?’

An expression of embarrassment crossed Karen’s face. ‘It’s all about Lord Beaverbrook. He was the big man in my business between the wars. I thought I might learn a thing or two.’ Gold earrings and a gold watch on her wrist combined to reflect the light into Sam’s eyes. Karen had always had a thing about gold. She sat down and raised her glass in Sam’s direction. ‘Cheers, Sam, it’s great to see you again. So just what exactly is the problem between you and, what was his name again? Nick? Noel?’

‘Neil.’ There was a pause before Sam decided to confide in her. ‘I think familiarity has bred contempt.’ One look at Karen’s face told her this would not be enough to satisfy her pathological nosiness. The fact that she had gone into journalism reflected her constant thirst for information. Sam took a deep breath. ‘We’ve been growing apart for ages. We hardly talk these days and when we do, it just spirals into an argument.’

‘Oh dear. Is it all terribly traumatic for you?’

‘It’s not a bundle of laughs. The fact is, the relationship’s been going sour for months. I suppose I’ve come round to realising that maybe we’re at the end of the road now. I’ve got to make up my mind to do something about it. I’m just worried about the effect the news might have on my mum. You heard about the divorce, did you?’

Karen nodded. ‘Afraid so. We were all amazed at the news. Fancy your dad going off after all these years! How’s your mum coping?’

Sam explained and saw her friend’s face fall. She did her best to summon a smile. ‘Anyway, thanks for asking, Karen, but she’ll be fine. We’ll both be fine. It’ll work itself out.’

Karen gave her a sympathetic look. ‘I’m so sorry. Depression’s a terrible thing. I’m afraid I know all about it.’ Before Sam could ask what she meant, Karen carried on. ‘And I’m really sorry to hear about you and Neil. Ah well, c’est la vie, I suppose. Plenty more fish in the sea and all that.’

‘I’m not in the mood for fishing, Karen. I just need to get out.’ As she spoke, she heard the door open. To her surprise, she saw the same tall man with the cowboy gait that she had seen out in the university grounds. He came in and headed for the bar. The Wobbly Wheel was the closest pub to the university and normally packed out with students during term time. Now, in the summer months, it was eerily quiet. Seeing him here reinforced her feeling that he must be something to do with the university. He gave no sign of noticing her, so she returned her attention to her gin and tonic.

Karen was sipping her own drink and studying Sam carefully. Sam ducked her head as the journalist, picking up on Sam’s interest in the man at the bar, did a bit of digging. ‘Somebody you know?’

Sam looked up, feeling strangely embarrassed. She did her best to sound disinterested. ‘Who? Him? No, I just saw him for the first time the other day and I think he might be something to do with the uni.’

‘He’s very good-looking, isn’t he?’ Karen was still looking closely at her, rather than him.

‘Um, yes, I suppose so.’ Sam felt a bit too much like a fish on the end of a line, so she did her best to turn the tables. ‘So what about you, Karen? Life not treating you too well either? What’s this about depression? You said on the phone you’d got problems.’ She caught something in her friend’s expression. ‘So? What’s the matter?’