A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,4

Tiff put on a brave face. ‘Thanks. Very kind of you.’

‘No bother, maid. Happy to help a damsel in distress.’ He let out a cackle.

Tiff didn’t think she’d ever been called a ‘damsel’ and at thirty-nine, she felt she’d long passed the stage when even the most generous of people would describe her that way, not that she’d ever really been the delicate-lady type.

‘Here’s your case. None the worse.’ The old woman passed her the suitcase.

‘Thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d have done if it had ended up in the harbour.’

‘It’d have gone straight to the bottom, very likely,’ her husband chortled.

‘But it didn’t, Troy,’ the lady said in some exasperation. ‘So all’s well that ends well … I couldn’t help noticing the label on your bag, my dear. Are you Tiffany Trescott? Marina’s Tiffany?’

‘Tiff to my friends,’ she said, staking her claim early to be known by her new nickname.

‘I’m Evie, by the way. I know Marina pretty well. We both do.’

Troy whistled. ‘You’ve been away a long time, maid.’

‘I haven’t been back too often,’ Tiff replied, which was an understatement. She’d only been there a couple of times in a decade.

Her parents had moved away from Cornwall when Tiff was still in nappies, to a large house in Oxfordshire where her father had become a surgeon. Her mother had been a barrister and Tiff had been packed off to school from the age of seven, only coming back to Porthmellow for some of the school holidays.

She had fond memories of the times she’d enjoyed there with Marina. Even though her cousin was a few years younger, she seemed to have more freedom than Tiff did. They’d wandered around the village, the beaches and coastline. Marina had loved to hear about Tiff’s shopping and theatre trips to London while Tiff had enjoyed the gossip about the local boys and eyeing up surfers on the beach. She might have kissed one or two, as well …

Although she’d only been back to the town twice since childhood, she’d seen Marina from time to time in her London home. Her ex London home. It was only a tiny one bed in an unfashionable suburb, but it had been her haven from the cutthroat world of journalism.

‘I’ve been living in London for a very long time,’ she explained.

‘Oh dear,’ Evie said, as if Tiff had confessed to having been in Wormwood Scrubs.

‘Eh. You don’t know Foxy Seddon’s cousin, do you?’ Troy asked. ‘She lives in London.’

Evie rolled her eyes. ‘Course she doesn’t, Troy, there are millions of people there.’ She peered at Tiff. ‘I do remember you though. You used to stay with Marina’s family in the school holidays sometimes, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I did.’ Tiff maintained the smiley eye thing but braced herself. She’d known a few locals would remember her but she hadn’t anticipated meeting a couple who knew her background, and probably every detail of her childhood, within five minutes of arriving in Porthmellow.

‘Nice to see you back,’ Evie said. ‘Is this a holiday?’

Evie was so innocently direct that Tiff couldn’t be offended by her question.

‘Sort of. I’m here to recharge my batteries and visit Marina.’

‘Ah, yes, come to think of it, she did mention you were coming for a break. Well, she’ll be glad of the company after that terrible business with Nate.’ Evie sighed. ‘Anniversary of his disappearance comin’ up too … I can hardly credit it’s nearly seven years.’

‘Time certainly flies,’ Tiff replied crisply. She couldn’t believe it had been so long since Marina’s ex had vanished either. Even though Tiff had thought Marina’s marriage had been heading for the rocks, her cousin had naturally been devastated when Nate had disappeared, feared drowned.

‘I warned him not to take that fishing kayak out, not with a storm brewing up,’ Troy said gloomily. ‘But he wouldn’t listen. He thanked me and smirked; thought I was an old fart probably, but I know these waters like the back of my hand. I work for the Harbour Commission, you know.’

‘Wow,’ said Tiff, picking up her bag again. She suspected Troy was about to relate his life history and she was eager to reach Marina’s and relax with a hot bath and a cool glass of wine. She’d warmed to the couple already, but she didn’t really remember them and certainly didn’t want to reveal too much about herself as she guessed they were lynchpins of the harbour town and knew everyone’s business and history. Luckily, Evie unwittingly came to