A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,105
as impossible to leave.
As soon as they were in the sitting room, he kissed her, leaving her reeling with lust and guilt. She had to tell him about the job offer; she owed him total honesty.
‘Wow,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘I needed that. I’ve been on a shout all afternoon. Some guy stole a rowing dinghy from the harbour and tried to get to France for some cheap wine. He lost an oar. We got him a moment before it was swamped.’
Tiff rolled her eyes. ‘What is wrong with people?’
‘This one was pissed. He didn’t want to come aboard even though he was sinking but we told him it was happy hour at the Smuggler’s and to save his booze cruise for another day.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that standard casualty procedure? If so, I’m not sure you’ll ever get a job as a hostage negotiator.’
‘It made him leave the boat and saved his life. The paramedics picked him up at the quay.’
She smiled and kissed him. She knew that behind the dark humour, these incidents bothered Dirk far more than he let on.
‘You look tired too,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’
‘But still very hot.’
‘That’s better. Actually, I am a bit knackered. I’ve been doing a couple of stints at the lookout station while Marina is taking a break, not that I’m much use. I had to endure an hour with Bryony Cronk today and if that’s not deserving of the highest honour, I don’t know what is. You know her, I suppose?’ Tiff said, rolling her eyes. Bryony ran a dog-grooming parlour in the village and had her own unruly Rottweiler constantly in tow, although with her booming voice and blunt opinions, Tiff considered Bryony to be far scarier than her dog.
He chuckled. ‘I heard Bryony had decided to join the Wave Watchers. I agree, spending any length of time with her deserves a medal.’ He smiled to himself again.
‘What’s up?’ she asked.
‘The idea of you spending your precious time in a coast watch station with someone like Bryony, out of the goodness of your heart … you’ve come a long way from the Tiff who first knocked on my door.’
‘Firstly, I only do it for Marina. Secondly, you overestimate the goodness in my heart.’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said, so gently that her skin tingled. She wished he wouldn’t say such nice things to her; every kind word would make it so much harder to leave him.
‘I’d say the jury’s out on that,’ she said lightly, dread weighing her down. He was right in one way; she’d never have dreamed that she’d become so involved in Porthmellow life and she wasn’t simply stepping in to help Marina. She’d begun to understand how no community, particularly a tiny one pitted against the elements, survived without pulling together. If that sounded cheesy, she couldn’t help it. It was true.
But the satisfaction she felt in helping out her cousin and the townspeople was overshadowed by her guilt over what she had to tell Dirk. Now here he was, leg crossed over his thigh, his arm flung over the back of the sofa. He looked tired but at ease, unsuspecting. Oh God …
Her stomach was doing backflips while she sipped the mug of coffee he’d made her. She teetered on the very edge of not telling him about Yvette’s revelations. Why did life have to throw these bloody great boulders in your way and, just as you’d found a new path, roll them away and reveal yet another route? She decided to start with the easier of the two.
‘If you’ve been out saving lives, I take it you won’t have seen the news?’ she said.
He frowned. ‘No. Why? Don’t tell me something else has happened to Marina?’
‘No, thank God. It’s about my ex, Warner. There was a short piece on the BBC news channel. He’s been sacked by the government. Misconduct in a public office. Turns out he was fiddling his expenses and claiming cash for employing a girlfriend. Not me, obviously.’
Dirk swore. ‘Is nothing enough for some people? Why do they have to be greedy as well as bastards?’
‘I don’t know. Some get into a bubble. Knowing Warner, he was simply arrogant enough to assume he wouldn’t get caught. He had this attitude that he could get away with anything … shaft anyone. Actually, I found out about it this morning. An editor friend called me to warn me the news was about to break.’
‘I’m relieved he’s finally been rumbled. How was he caught?’