A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,102

a free flat white, while discreetly asking how she was.

Ellie’s sister, Scarlett, came in with her boyfriend, Jude, and they sat at the table next to Marina and started chatting to her about the next Solstice Festival, which was coming up in December. She guessed they were trying to avoid bringing up the elephant in the room and she appreciated it, even though it was hard to concentrate on ‘normal’ life or even see beyond the end of the week – let alone to Christmas and a new year.

After her coffee, she forced herself to go to the supermarket, pleased to have survived her first hour in Porthmellow. It was more difficult than the coffee shop and she felt eyes burning into her back. Some were familiar faces who glanced at her and forced smiles when they caught her eye, quickly going back to extravagantly examining cereal packets and carrots. Others were locals she knew only by sight, and they were not so shy in openly staring. She wondered if they might even have followed her inside the shop to confirm she was who they’d thought, or might be messaging their friends.

She carried on shopping, putting stuff in her basket without really caring what it was. Ready meals, tins, who cared? She wanted to get home. While the press attention had abated, the other issues associated with Nate’s discovery had not.

The police had been in touch but Nate’s disappearance was now a matter for the South African authorities. They were investigating how he’d entered the country and there was a strong possibility that he could be arrested and even jailed. Marina didn’t want that to happen but she couldn’t see how it could be avoided. She was drained and exhausted.

Her solicitor was dealing with all the legal issues, but that meant a constant stream of emails, calls and letters to deal with, each one hammering home the bizarre and awful reality of the situation. It had been horrible to even have to answer questions about whether she’d known Nate was alive. She’d had to break the news to so many people now, and every conversation had been hard in its own way. Even when she had a moment of peace, the biggest, most terrible question of all pecked away at her.

Why?

Why had Nate done this to her?

What had she done to him to make him leave?

‘Hello.’

A familiar voice reached her and she was filled with relief to see Dirk’s face looming over the other side of a bread display.

He joined her in a quiet corner. ‘I needn’t ask how you are?’ he said in a low voice.

She had to smile. ‘Do I look that bad?’

‘No, but you’ve been staring at that packet for a while.’

Marina realised she was holding a bag of pain au chocolat. She dropped them into her basket, figuring that any food in the cottage was better than nothing.

‘Thanks for the support you’ve given me since Nate … since he was found.’

‘It was a pleasure.’ He grimaced. ‘You know what I mean. I’m only sorry you’re having to deal with this shitstorm. I hate to use a cliché but, in this case, it’s warranted. This will blow over, I promise.’

‘I hope so. To be honest, it’s already dying down a bit.’

He nodded. ‘I – um – had a taste of it myself after Amira left. Nothing like this, but it was still crap. We never asked for it.’ Dirk glared at a young woman who was openly staring at Marina, a phone in her hand.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he growled, and the woman hastily shoved her phone in her bag and scuttled off. ‘Vultures,’ he muttered.

‘Thanks for coming over. I do appreciate it, Dirk.’

‘Any time.’ He smiled and Marina was struck by the expression in his eyes. He was a beautiful man, almost sculptural in his handsomeness. Too austere for her taste, but she could see why Tiff had fallen so hard for him. She wondered if Dirk felt the same way.

Marina walked home and escaped into her garden. The tubs were still in bloom but some were past their best so she dead headed the faded flowers then made a cuppa and sat on her bench. She ought to tackle the Wave Watchers rota for the next week, which was tricky now that she wasn’t doing any shifts.

She hadn’t been up to the station since Lachlan had broken the news about Nate. The volunteers had rallied round, doing extra stints or manning the station solo,