Breakfast Under a Cornish Sun (24 page)

The swing doors opened and Greg appeared, apologetic expression on his face. He must have heard our voices.

‘Everything all right? Mrs Peppard is here. Says she wants to see you, Lucas.' He looked at me. I nodded and he disappeared.

‘And what is it with you and the Peppards?' I hissed and glanced through the hatch. There she stood in a little leopard-skin patterned top and a cream skirt. She didn't look so old that Lucas would need to butter her up.

Leopard skin … again my brain twitched. Of course. The bra in the chalet that caught fire. It was Mrs Peppard's—and Lucas loved women in animal print. Surely not? I gazed at Lucas and his face had lit up as he saw her in the distance and waved. I recalled how he'd run off to call the emergency services when we'd spotted smoke. If he'd been in there with Mrs Peppard earlier, he'd have known there was no one else inside. Lucas might be a traitor, but I reckoned he'd have stayed and helped with my rescue attempt if he'd thought the chalet was occupied.

‘Why are you sleeping with her?' I said, in a casual tone.

Lucas spun around, eyes sparking. ‘What. With who?' he spluttered.

‘Don't deny it. You and Mrs Peppard. The chalet that caught fire. That leopard-print bra they found.'

Lucas shook his head, his top lip rising into a sneer. ‘Good God, woman. How low will you go? I've
had enough of this rubbish. I thought you and I had something, Kate, but you're just a jealous, suspicious, obsessed psycho.'

‘I haven't got any proof but I know you and the Peppards are linked in some way, to make sure White Rocks' branding isn't a success.' I thought for a moment. ‘That night—the fireworks … they called you over to talk. Soon after they left early. Then all hell kicked loose. It's almost as if you'd warned them what was about to happen. Are they in on your plan too, for some reason?'

‘Yes,' he said sarcastically. ‘The whole resort, the whole of Port Penny is in on my Machiavellian plans. I'm after world domination.'

I dropped my voice and stared at him for a moment. He stared back, shoulders finally drooping a little. ‘Lucas. Cut the crap. Come on. Tell me. You aren't a bad person. I know that … Is this something to do with your dad?'

He tossed down the tea towel. ‘What would you know about him? I've hardly ever mentioned my old man.'

‘But you have and, when you do, it's always in terms of being a failure or a success.'

He swallowed and for a second his eyes looked all shiny.

‘He was an electrician, you said? Good job. Did he enjoy it?'

Lucas snorted. ‘No. Hated it, every hour of every day. His brother had the brains and went to university. My dad was told by my grandfather what he'd do. Given no choice, if he wanted to live under their roof. They were practical people. Wanted a cut from his wages as soon as possible to pay for my uncle's education.'

‘Harsh. And was your dad as equally harsh with you?'

Lucas sighed and slouched back, against a kitchen unit. ‘He took me swimming as a kid. I'll never forget the first time. I must have been six. He got in the pool first and held out his arms. “Jump,” he said. “I'll catch you.” I did and he stepped aside and let me sink under the water.'

‘Oh no!'

‘I thought I was drowning; swallowed so much water. Eventually, he helped me to the side. Said he hoped I'd learnt a lesson—never to rely on
anyone
, even those closest. That if I wanted to achieve my dreams I had to look out for myself, look out for number one.'

‘So the Maddocks … this place … You feel no loyalty. But why try to ruin their business?'

‘You've no proof of that,' he said, tightly.

‘Agreed.' I bit my bottom lip. ‘So tell me anyway.'

He held my gaze for a minute and then sighed. ‘Kate. It's just … I don't want to let Dad down. He never had the support of his parents to follow his dream. He's been tough but only to fuel that ambitious fire in my belly. While he's proud of my cooking achievements,
I can tell that working in a resort, cooking nuggets … it's not where he saw me ending up.'

‘But what about you?'

He shrugged. ‘I've nothing against White Rocks per se. But I would like to use my cordon bleu skills. I liked the resort the way it was.'

‘With guests like the Peppards?'

‘Mrs Peppard and me—we've always had a laugh. And what I said about buttering her up, it's not true. I like her—not just because she's persuaded her husband to offer me another job …'

I raised an eyebrow. ‘On one of his golf courses?'

‘Kind of. A new one.'

‘Where is it?'

He said nothing.

‘Lucas! Please. This has gone on long enough. Just tell me everything.'

Lucas cleared his throat. ‘It's not built yet. But it will be. Right here.'

I gasped. ‘You mean … Of course! He wants White Rocks to go bankrupt so that he can pick up the land at a low price. But the course here is tiny.'

‘Not if you get rid of all the chalets. And this reception building will make the perfect clubhouse. He's promised me my own high-class restaurant, to serve members, plus I'll buy stakes in the place.'

I put down my drink. ‘So, getting to know me was useful. You asking me for any extra details regarding
the Maddocks' latest ideas was keeping you ahead of the game so that you could destroy all their hard work.'

‘Sorry, Kate.' He took my hand. ‘I … I really liked you as time went on.'

‘Yes, enough to tamper with my mike and CD, plus ruin the ABBA evening.' I shook my head. ‘As for the fireworks, that was just plain dangerous.'

‘I never knew they were in there. I just lit a candle and hoped the smoke alarm would set off so that everyone would have to evacuate the building and the evening would be ruined.'

‘And the fishing trip?'

He shrugged.

‘Lucas!'

‘All right! Yeah. Ten out of ten—you got it right. I knew that protest would disturb the day. And my fishing mate owed me a favour. I asked him not to turn up.' He sipped his wine. ‘Of course, I'll deny everything—as will the Peppards. And you know Mr Peppard—he'd probably sue the Maddocks for defamation of character.' He put down his glass, turned to me and took my hands. ‘Oh, Kate, why not jump on board? You're a great waitress. I'll put in a good word for you. No doubt the golf club could do with a singer for all their social events. It could be just the regular gig they are looking for …'

‘At the expense of the Maddocks? No thanks.'

He squeezed my hands and let go. ‘You like him, don't you?'

We both knew he was talking about Tremain.

‘It's OK.' He shrugged. ‘You're a great girl but not my regular type.'

‘And I only hooked up with you, initially, to get a plus-one for this wedding, to impress my friend,' I spluttered. Oops. There had been no need to let that slip.

‘What?'

Ears hot, I explained the sorry tale—my school experiences with Saffron … our mutual love of Poldark.

Eventually, he chuckled. ‘Guess I should be flattered. So, you're no better than me. We used each other—me to pump you for information, you to use my eighteenth-century looks to stick two fingers up at the nemesis from your youth.'

‘Yes, but I'm not ruining anyone's living in the process.'

Lucas snorted. ‘Oh come on, this place hasn't got a hope, with or without my intervention. I'm just hurrying up the process.'

‘You don't know that. It's early days. Without your tampering this week could have been great.' I folded my arms. ‘Look. I get it Lucas. Why it's so important to you to succeed. But you can't go trampling over other people's dreams to achieve that.' I straightened. ‘I may not have proof of your involvement in things going wrong last week, but I have got proof of your affair.'

His brow furrowed.

‘The police will still have that leopard-print bra. It will only take a word from me to raise Mr Peppard's suspicion. Unless you call off this plot with the Peppards and get them to leave, I'll tell him about you and his wife.'

‘Whoa. Now wait a minute. You can't.'

‘I can and I will. You must leave too. Immediately.'

He gasped. ‘Wait a minute, Kate, don't be so hasty.' He ran his hand up my arm. ‘Mrs Peppard is no competition for you. Let me take you out tonight. Make it up to you.'

‘Lucas.' I pulled away my arm. ‘That charmer crap doesn't work on me any more. And in any case, I'm not interested.'

His jaw tightened. ‘Fine. Suit yourself. Go break up a marriage.'

‘You think I won't? It's not as if they look happy together.' I made for the door, but he grabbed my arm.

‘All right. All right. Don't.' He looked away. ‘She … Angie … doesn't deserve that.'

I raised my eyebrows.

‘He's not the easiest person to live with.' Lucas gave a wry smile. ‘It's kind of sad, how grateful she is for the smallest attention I pay her.'

‘But you like her. Why not ask her to leave him?'

‘Nah. She's too used to the lifestyle. This set-up suits us both.'

I stared at him. He really was like Poldark, who had feelings for a woman married to another.

‘I mean it,' I said. ‘Get them to leave or I will make the affair public. I saw the knickers matching that bra in the swimming-pool changing room, when she was taking a dip. Mr Peppard would no doubt recognise them too, if shown the other half of the lingerie set.'

‘OK! OK. Just give me some time.'

‘Today, Lucas—before you do any more harm. Or I'll tell Tremain everything,' I said, as the swing doors opened slightly.

Lucas snorted. ‘How? Done a runner, hasn't he?'

The doors opened wide. ‘No. I'm back.' Tremain glared at us both. ‘What's going on?'

CHAPTER 18

‘You're back!' A warm sensation burst from my heart and flooded my chest. With difficulty I fought the urge to throw my arms around his neck.

‘What were you going to tell me?' he said and turned to Lucas. ‘Or perhaps it's better coming from you?'

Lucas sneered. ‘Nothing less than you deserve. You've always had it in for me.'

‘No. I just prefer team players.'

I looked pointedly at Lucas. ‘Shall you tell him or will I?'

He shifted from foot to foot. ‘What does it matter? Fine. You get your own way. Me and the Peppards will leave tonight.' He cleared his throat and gazed at Tremain. ‘It was never meant personally,' he muttered. ‘And good luck with this dump, although you'll need a miracle to turn it around. Say goodbye to Kensa. She's always been decent enough.' He took my hand and lifted it to his lips. After a gentle kiss he let go. ‘Take
care, Kate. Hope you find a better plus-one for your wedding.'

I swallowed. He wasn't all bad. A bit dangerous like my fantasy Poldark—just lacking the integrity.

He left through the swing doors. As they whooshed closed again, Tremain took a step towards me.

‘How are you?' I mumbled. ‘We've all been worried. Kensa—'

‘It's OK. I've seen her. Apologised. I'm an idiot.'

I stepped nearer. Wrapped my arms around his neck. ‘As long as you're OK.'

‘I am now,' he mumbled. His strong arms circled my waist and he lifted me up into the air. My legs entwined around his hips and I closed my eyes as our mouths connected. Tenderly, his lips kissed mine and then deeper, with more urgency. Jets of warmth shot through my body, as if I were made of volcanic liquid. Finally, he set me down. ‘Come with me. To a beach I know. We need to talk. You need to know everything.'

‘Only if you're ready.'

He stared for the longest moment, those leaf-green eyes searching mine. Then he nodded and, by my hand, led me to his van.

On the journey towards Port Penny, I told him about Lucas and Mr Peppard's plan. Face flushed, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel until, in a small voice, I got to the part about me needing a Poldark lookalike.

Tremain burst out laughing, as we drove through the small town, past tiny cottages and bumpy cobbled roads. ‘Guess I should be proper insulted. I mean, you've seen me at Guvnah's, cutting grass, with a naked torso. Obviously you weren't impressed.'

‘How do you know about that scene from the TV series? Don't tell me you're a
Poldark
fan?'

‘Nope, but Mum loves it. I get a full recap of each episode, when the series is on,' he said and pulled a face. ‘It's the one pleasure she allows herself, amidst the stresses and strains of running this place.'

To my surprise, we drove past the pottery—I thought Tremain was going to park there. Instead, we carried on, through the busy centre, and out the other side, going up a hill.

‘So, from what you have heard, who do you prefer?' I teased. ‘Streetwise urchin Demelza or refined Elizabeth?' As I said those words, I chuckled inside, comparing economically challenged me to posh Mrs Peppard, and Poldark-lookalike Lucas being caught in between. Talk about real life mimicking fiction.

‘Oh, definitely Demelza. Airs and graces don't do anything for me.'

I shrugged. ‘Funny, isn't it? I think Lucas really cares for Mrs Peppard—it's not just the money.'

Tremain snorted. ‘That's a first then. For years he's used his looks to flirt and get favours from wealthy
women customers. I sensed there was something between them last year. Mrs Peppard looked devastated when it was time for her to leave.'

‘He's … He's not always had it easy. His dad asks a lot of him, I reckon, in terms of success and his position in the workplace.'

Tremain didn't answer for a while and then his shoulders relaxed. ‘Yep. Expectations are hard, whether they come from someone else or within.' The hill evened out and I enjoyed an amazing sea view, watching trawlers chug along the horizon and seabirds swoop at the back of fishing boats.