A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,113

been a turning point for her and yet, with Nate back in her life – however far away and uninvited – and Lachlan out of it, she was still in limbo. She was alone waiting for Gareth to arrive, but he was running late as his moped wouldn’t start, so she steeled herself for the shift, trying to focus on all the good reasons why she’d opened the station and not the sham that she now felt its foundations had been built on.

She’d be fine on her own and she didn’t mind a little time to collect her thoughts. It was a gusty day, with leaden clouds constantly chasing patches of blue across the sky. One moment the sun would light up the whitecaps on the sea, the next the ocean would be plunged into angry shadow. It was typical of the kind of weather Porthmellow experienced as autumn set in. She watched as fishing vessels battled the swell, and on the horizon, a tanker made its way along the shipping lanes of the Channel.

Marina had been on watch for half an hour when Gareth called, breathless.

‘I’m sorry! I’m still stuck. My moped’s out of action. I’ll have to get a lift off Mum when she comes back from my nan’s but I’ll be an hour at least.’

‘It’s OK. Don’t worry,’ Marina said, soothing him. ‘It’s not worth you coming for half a shift. Doreen and Trevor will almost be here by the time you make it. I can manage until they get here.’

‘I don’t like letting you down on a busy weekend. Can you get someone else to help?’ Gareth sounded genuinely upset. ‘What about Lachlan? He’s the closest.’

‘Lachlan? I – I’m not sure … he’s probably busy and I’m not sure he’s up to doing any Wave Watchers shifts at the moment …’

‘Why not? I’m sure he’d come down in an emergency. After all, it was him who organised the visit to your cottage—’

‘What?’

‘Yes. It was Lachlan’s idea.’ Gareth paused. ‘It was meant to be a surprise at the time. He didn’t want you to think he was taking the credit for arranging it. We all promised not to say, but I thought by now you’d have found out.’

‘Yes, of course. I’d … kind of worked it out.’ Marina covered her shock with a laugh. ‘You go and sort out your moped and I’ll see you on your next shift.’

She rang off, reeling. So it was Lachlan who’d been behind the visit. Tiff must have known. So must Dirk and everyone, yet they’d all kept quiet. Her heart sank at the same time as she felt choked with emotion. It was just like him. Quiet, unassuming … yet he must care about her very much. He knew her so well and knew what she needed, perhaps in this instance, even more than she did herself.

She had to talk to him and apologise, explain and see him again. She reached for her phone, but the radio receiver flared into life. Her own concerns would have to wait a while. The call was from a yacht whose skipper was wondering about the worsening local weather conditions and asking if he should seek shelter in Porthmellow Harbour for the night.

Marina relayed her report and he thanked her and signed off. She was about to put the radio down when a voice came from behind her.

‘Hello, babe.’

She spun round, and the radio clattered onto the desk.

‘Nate.’

He stepped forward. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

Carefully, because her hands were shaking, she replaced the radio handset in its usual place. ‘You haven’t frightened me.’

‘It must be like seeing a ghost.’

‘I’ve never believed in ghosts, Nate.’ How could he stand there, so blasé – so flippant? As if the past seven years – and all the horrific uncertainty he’d put her through – had never happened?

‘I’m sorry I came here but I thought you wouldn’t answer my calls and once I knew I was coming home, it was better to see you face to face.’

Her jaw dropped. Home? This isn’t your home any more. You left it in the cruellest way.

He was so different physically, much bulkier, with dyed blond hair, a goatee and a deep tan. He didn’t even sound Cornish any more, his burr almost eclipsed by a South African accent. He was a stranger, an impostor, but he was still her husband, still the man she had once loved. He took her breath away – but not for the reason that he