A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,15

that you got the place back open. I’m sorry I haven’t been here before. Now I’m here in the flesh, I can understand exactly why you wanted to do this in Nate’s memory.’

‘It wasn’t only for him. If I – we – can save even one person by being here, then it’ll be worth every minute I’ve spent begging for money to keep it open or sitting in here in hail, rain or shine.’ She broke off, almost breathless at the intensity of her statement.

Tiff smiled ruefully. ‘I knew it meant a lot to you but I’ve only realised how much now I’m actually here, seeing you in this place, hearing how you feel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as passionate about anything. You’re different, you know,’ Tiff went on.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I probably shouldn’t say this but …’

Marina laughed. ‘You never normally hesitate to say what you think.’

‘I know you adored Nate and were devastated when he disappeared, but I see a new Marina here before me. It’s as if, and forgive me for saying this, my lovely, you have emerged from his shadow and into the sun yourself.’

Marina hid her intake of breath.

‘You’re not offended, are you?’ Tiff said.

‘N-no … not offended. You think so, really?’

‘Yes, I do. I’m not saying that losing Nate wasn’t a terrible thing, the worst thing anyone could have to face, but now you’ve blossomed despite that awful event. You have bloomed from the ashes, my lovely, into this strong woman who knows what she wants and gets things done. Yet you’re still the kind, compassionate cousin I always knew.’

‘Stop it, Tiff. I’m not some kind of Mother Teresa.’ Marina felt tears sting her eyes.

‘Don’t worry, I know you’re no saint.’ She laughed. ‘But I do think it’s time that this new Marina should – and you can tell me to mind my own business …’ There was a guarded humour in Tiff’s tone.

‘Not that it would make a scrap of difference.’ Marina laughed.

‘Yeah. What I’m trying to say is … well, isn’t it time that you thought about you?’

‘You mean I should start dating again?’

‘Not necessarily a relationship. Just someone to have fun with – and maybe hot sex.’

Marina gasped. ‘Like who? I know almost every guy in Porthmellow and I’m not interested in any of them.’

‘Is there no one who’s even tickled your fancy in the past few years? What about some of the Wave Watchers?’

Marina snorted. ‘The men are either pensioners, students or gay. Ew, I love most of them to bits as fellow volunteers but I can’t imagine dating any of them.’

‘Have you ever tried to get back out there again beyond Porthmellow? What about the Internet or Tinder?’

‘I’ve been fixed up with guys by well-meaning friends at dinner parties a few times. I tried a dating site once but after one meet-up where the guy turned out to be a trawlerman with halitosis and a secret life as a druid, I gave up.’

‘A druid with halitosis? Oh my God!’ Tiff dissolved into laughter, then became more serious. ‘If it’s loyalty to Nate holding you back, you’ve more than honoured his memory. You deserve to be happy,’ she said. ‘Again, I mean,’ she added hastily, as if Marina might assume she meant she wasn’t with Nate.

Marina remembered the vow she’d made after Nate had first vanished.

I’ll never stop loving you …

She’d held fast to that, but it didn’t stop her craving love again, did it?

‘I’ll admit, it’s been hard not to feel disloyal to Nate … but if I met someone special, I’d give them a chance.’

‘Really?’

‘I mean it, but I haven’t met someone yet,’ she said, although Tiff had made her look at her life in a new way. By sheer force of will, she’d ignored the pain, conquered her grief and raised the money to re-open the station. Tiff might be right, although Marina hadn’t thought about her life after Nate in this way before.

Someone had once told her that there was always a sun in a relationship … Nate for all his faults, had been lively and popular, at least with the people he didn’t owe money to. He could be charming, funny and was the life and soul of any party. She’d seen herself as the anchor in his life, she’d thought, content to live in his shadow.

It was ironic that his death, while almost destroying her at first, had seen her emerge out of that shadow and into the light. She’d had