A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,52

can find my own way out.’

Snatching up her bag, she stormed into the hall. He followed but she flung open the door and marched out. She was pretty sure he was on the doorstep, but she absolutely was not going to look back to check.

What a day. Rarely had she left someone’s house so shaken, so unsure of their feelings – or her own. Dirk ’n’ Stormy was a very fitting nickname. Not because of his changing moods but because of the turbulence he stirred up in others. Or perhaps, she realised as she reached Marina’s place, only in her.

Chapter Fifteen

It was several days after the kite surf incident before Marina saw Lachlan in the flesh again. She’d texted him that evening and received a short reply from him saying he’d needed to go home as soon as the lifeboat had taken the male casualty off the beach and asking her if she’d keep him updated on how the kite surfers were. She assumed that the helicopter’s arrival had been a trigger for him.

Luckily, she had plenty to distract her at work: exam season was imminent and she encouraged the students to go outside and get some fresh air and sunshine as a break from the stress.

She sat on the grass with her lunch and chatted to a colleague for a while before checking her phone in case Lachlan had messaged her again. His text had given no hint of when – or if – he intended to see her again. What a shame: she was disappointed as they’d been getting on so well and he’d seemed to be opening up to her.

Tiff revealed she’d seen him when she’d been to the post office, but they only exchanged a nod and a ‘hi’.

However, when there was still no message the following day, she texted him herself asking how he was. It was Friday and she’d taken the late afternoon shift at the lookout station. In late May, the coast was stunning. The shady banks were smothered in bluebells while the sunny areas popped with yellow gorse, white sea campion and mauve vetch. Pleasure craft joined the fishing vessels in the harbour and the beaches were busy every sunny weekend.

Holiday time for tourists meant more work for the Wave Watchers and the lifeboat crews, but Marina was used to the rhythm of the seasons in the station by now. Fortunately, that day’s shift with Gareth was uneventful.

‘See you later,’ she told Gareth, leaving him to hand over to Doreen and Trevor.

She had plenty of time to go home and change out of her uniform before heading down into town to meet up with some of the Wave Watchers for a drink at the pub. She strolled towards Coastguard Terrace, inhaling the salty sea air and listening to the choughs calling from the cliff edges, and the waves crashing onto the rocks below. Once again, she was struck by the contrast between the beauty and danger of the place. Nate wouldn’t have understood that: he was gung-ho about the sea, always telling her not to worry.

An involuntary shudder shook her and when she turned away from the cliff, Lachlan was approaching on the path from the direction of the Lizard. She wondered if he’d slowed at first, having spotted her, but then almost immediately, he jogged towards her.

‘Hello, stranger,’ she said lightly.

He wrinkled his nose. ‘Aye. I have been a stranger … Marina, I’m sorry I rushed off after the incident. Once I was sure the casualties were going to be OK, I needed some space. I should have told you straight away, and not disappeared like that. Sometimes a little thing – or a big one – will trigger bad memories and I have to get away. It’s probably only a fight or flight thing …’ He toed the earth. ‘Though it always seems to be flight these days.’

‘We all need our space from time to time. I know I do. You don’t have to explain.’

‘It isn’t me – running away. It didn’t used to be me, anyway … perhaps I can’t get used to the changes in me. I know other people couldn’t.’

Marina left a gap in the conversation, hoping he only needed time to fill it, but he shrugged. ‘You don’t want to hear about me and my problems.’

‘I wouldn’t say that. I’m on my way home. Do you want to try me?’

They walked together, chatting, and stopped to look out over the coast. Cornwall was at its finest