A Good Catch Part 37

They left shortly before eleven and the conversation in the car was work-based and relaxed. Loveday began to think she wasn't going to have to have words with him after all.

The Newlyn operation was interesting, although the computer system wasn't that different from Behenna and Clovelly's. The head of accounts, a woman called April, was friendly, taking Loveday through all the systems she had. Most were familiar to Loveday, but there were one or two short cuts that she'd look into for B&C.

While she was with April, Jesse was in the fish market, looking first at the equipment in there, and later meeting his counterparts in the boardroom, where plans for a new fish-processing plant were discussed. It was clear that the Newlyn company wanted to share the facilities, and the cost, with an injection of cash from and partners.h.i.+p with Behenna and Clovelly.

It was four o'clock by the time they left.

'Are you hungry?' Jesse asked Loveday.

'Flipping starving.'

'Sorry about lunch. Fancy an early supper?'

'Sounds good, but I don't want to be home late.'

'Of course not. I know a nice little pub on our way home. We pa.s.sed it. The Smuggler's Tree?'

'Perfect.'

The pub was old but clean. Jesse dodged the low beams as he entered.

'h.e.l.lo, sir. What can I get you?' asked an elderly barman with thick spectacles and mutton-chop whiskers.

'I'll have a pint of Skinner's, please, and ...' He turned to Loveday, raising his eyebrows in query.

'Just a lime and soda, please.'

'Coming up,' said the barman. 'Take a seat. I'll bring the drinks over. Will you be eating?'

'Yes, please.'

'I'll bring a menu too. I can recommend the steak.'

'That was really nice,' said Loveday, doing up her jacket as they went out into the cool evening. 'Thank you, Jesse.'

'The least I could do.'

They got into the car and Jesse turned on the CD player. Michael Buble started to sing.

'Oh, I like him,' said Loveday, settling down in her seat. 'I think he's a nice person too.'

'He sings all right,' said Jesse.

The music filled the car and neither Jesse nor Loveday felt the need to talk. Loveday closed her eyes and let the gentle motion of the car and Michael Buble's voice flood through her.

She had lost sense of time but was aware that the car had stopped. She opened her eyes. They weren't in Trevay. Outside it was pitch black. She turned to Jesse, who was looking at her carefully.

'Where are we?' she asked.

'On the moor.'

She looked out of the window again and could just make out some hills against the moonlit skyline. 'Have we run out of petrol? Is there something wrong with the car?'

'I wanted to talk to you.'

She groaned. 'No, Jesse. We've had this conversation.'

'That's not the conversation I'm thinking of.'

She was puzzled. 'What are you talking about?'

'I love you, Loveday. Always have and always will.'

She sat upright in her seat and folded her arms across her body. 'Don't start this again.'

'It's true. I love you.'

'And Mickey and I love you and Greer as friends.'

'You broke my heart. You know that?'

Loveday felt a white-hot rush of anger. 'What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? I waited for you to come to me on the morning of your wedding. I waited for you, in my bedroom, expecting the knock at the door. Imagining you telling Mr Clovelly that you couldn't marry Greer. But you didn't come and you left me feeling a fool, watching you and Greer get married. It was my heart that was broken.'

He smiled a gentle smile and put his hand to her cheek. 'I knew you still loved me.'

She pulled away from him. 'I did but I don't now. I love Mickey. He's been good and true and he's not a coward, like you were that day.'

He sat back in his seat. 'Well, that's told me, hasn't it?'

'I hope so. Now please take me home.'

He looked regretful. 'I will take you home as soon as we've sorted something out.'

'What?'

'In return for me not telling Mickey about you, me and Hal ... I want you to be nice to me.'

'Of course. We're friends.'

'Yes, we're friends, but I'd like us to be close friends. I can be your best friend who keeps your deepest, darkest secret in return for, how shall I put this delicately, being my mistress.'

Loveday's slap came hard and fast and stung his cheek. 'You are mad,' she spat. 'I would have done anything for you. But you didn't want that. You wanted your boats, your fancy wife, your fancy life, and now you want my son. Well, it's too late.'

To her horror, Jesse started to cry and began banging his head on the side window. Loveday was filled with disgust. 'You made all the moves and all the decisions and left me feeling a fool. Now you've got the f.u.c.king cheek to cry like a baby. Let me tell you, I love my son, I love my husband. My Mickey is worth ten of you.'

Jesse wiped a string of snot from his nose and turned imploring eyes upon her. 'Please, Loveday. You don't know how hard it's been for me, seeing you and Mickey and Hal together. It breaks my heart.'

'You don't know the meaning of heartbreak. Now either get me home or I'll get out and walk.'

He pulled a clean, pressed handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose. 'Please don't go.' He grabbed her hand and looked at her in desperation. 'Please. I feel like I'm going mad.' His eyes filled again and he leant towards her and buried his face in her lap. She pushed him away.

'Stop feeling so sorry for yourself and grow up. Like I've had to.'

'But I killed Grant.'

She looked at him in confusion. 'What?'

'I killed Grant. I killed him. He should have had what I've got but I took it from him.'

Loveday was in no mood for this. 'This self-pity is disgusting. You didn't kill Grant. He died because he was an idiot. Like you are being right now.'

He sat up and wiped his eyes. He looked so forlorn that for a moment Loveday pitied him. 'Come on. Let's just go home. Do you want me to drive?'

'No.' He shook himself and rubbed a hand over his face. 'Let's go.'

35.

'Happy Father's Day.' Becca and Bea danced into the bedroom brandis.h.i.+ng cards and a beautifully wrapped parcel.

'Wake up, Daddy.' Bea stuck a finger in her sleeping father's ear and twisted it.

'Get off me, you stupid maid,' growled Mickey, grabbing her wrist and pus.h.i.+ng it away from him.

'Ow-wer. That hurt.' Bea retreated in a sulk. 'I was only playing.'

'Don't be such a wuss,' said Becca, taking her sister's place and putting her hands either side of her father's pillow, squas.h.i.+ng it up over his cheeks. 'Get. Up. Dad. We've got cards and a present.'

Loveday lay still, on her side. Her back to Mickey, as she had done for the last couple of days. She'd managed to get home with no more dramas, but today there was no avoiding him.

She felt the mattress move as Mickey sat up against his pillows and the girls settled themselves in any s.p.a.ce on the duvet they could find.

'What's this, then?' she heard him say. 'Where are my ugly daughters and what have you two done with them?'

'Just open the cards. Mine's the funniest,' Bea said.

Loveday listened as an envelope was opened and Mickey read out the message. 'Dad, you're like an old fart, you never know when to leave. Happy Father's Day, Love from Bea.' The girls giggled. 'Well, that's charming. Lovely sentiments. Thank you Bea.'

'Open mine now,' said Becca.

There was another rip of an envelope, then, 'To my dear Daddy, you are my star to guide me home, my hug to stop my tears and my fat wallet when I haven't got any money. Love you Daddy, Becca. Well, I must say the quality of greetings cards is going up. Thank you, girls.'

'Now open the present,' the girls chorused.

Loveday opened her eyes and looked at the clock. Just after eight. How was she going to get through today? She turned over and smiled at her family. 'Morning, girls. Happy Father's Day, Mickey.'

'Thank you, darling.' He leant over and kissed her. 'Look what our special little daughters have got for me.' He shook out a T-s.h.i.+rt which had printed on the front the torso of a very muscly man with a six-pack and huge biceps. On the back was written the legend 'Welcome To The Gun Show'.

'It's 'cos your muscles don't show,' explained Becca.

'I'll show you muscles.' The girls shrieked as Mickey grabbed them and began a play-wrestle.

Loveday got out of bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen to make the traditional Father's Day breakfast.

The drive over to Tide House was noisy. The girls and Hal, in the back of the car, were squabbling over some shared earphones. Mickey, wearing his new T-s.h.i.+rt, was driving. The late June sun was warm and the hedges alive with sea pinks and foxgloves. Loveday knew each bend and dip in the lane. Here was Foxy Loxy Corner, named after the night they saw a fox sitting right there in the field. Next came Owl Stone, where most nights a tawny owl would sit, rotating its head with exorcist flexibility. And now, as they breached the hill in the lane and turned right, beneath them appeared Tide Cove. The sea sparkled and flashed in the sun. A small fis.h.i.+ng boat with a scarlet wheelhouse was bobbing on a yellow buoy a little way off the beach. Loveday could see two figures on the sand, pus.h.i.+ng a rowing boat into the waves. She dropped her sungla.s.ses onto her nose and took slow, deep breaths. She needed to get this day over and done with.

'h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo!' said Greer, greeting them at the steps of Tide House. 'The boys are taking provisions from sh.o.r.e to s.h.i.+p as we speak. Hal, would you and the girls like to take a couple more things down to them? Saves your mum and me.'

A box of Coca-Cola tins and some Tupperware containing sandwiches and cake were handed over.

Greer watched as the three trooped off and then turned to Mickey and Loveday. 'Happy Father's Day, Mickey.' She hugged him and then kissed Loveday. 'Aren't we lucky with this weather! Either of you want a cup of coffee and a pee before we set off?'

Loveday tried to pull her mood up to match Greer's relentless cheerfulness. It had been Jesse, of course, who'd suggested that they all get together for a big fis.h.i.+ng outing on this Father's Day. The two families had never shared the day before, and Loveday was sick to her toes with anxiety.

'We'll have a coffee with you,' said Mickey, putting his arm around Loveday. 'Won't we, darlin'?'

Greer swallowed the last of her coffee and began filling a bag with a camera and a bottle of sunscreen. 'Got everything?'

'I'll just nip to the loo,' said Loveday.

Mickey watched her go then said quietly, 'Does she look all right to you, Greer?'

Greer thought for a moment. 'I think so. Why?'

'I dunno. She's been quiet. Not herself at all.'

Greer searched for and found her sungla.s.ses. 'In what way?'

'Tired. Quiet. D'you think it's the menopause?'

Greer pulled a face. 'She's only in her early forties. I shouldn't think so.' She looked at Mickey more carefully and saw the anxiety in the lines around his eyes and in the slump of his shoulders. 'Maybe get her to see the doctor? She might be anaemic or need a tonic.'