For the rest of the day, Rose tried to concentrate on ancient mysteries rather than modern ones. They found some interesting pottery fragments and with the moors spread at her feet and the sea at a safe distance, she felt calmer.
She got back later in the day, and made a couple of drinks in her own flat before joining Oriel in the shop. ‘Hello!’ she called, backing through the bead curtain with a mug in each hand. ‘I brought coffee …’
‘Sodding sodding hell!’ Oriel ripped up a leaflet and threw the pieces at Rose. The coffee wobbled in her hands. ‘Oops! Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.’
‘I’m OK but why are you ripping up the leaflets?’
‘Because we’re doomed.’
‘What?’ Rose put the mugs by the till. ‘What’s Nige done now?’
‘It’s not Nige. It’s Mr Simpson. He tripped over a rock at Frenchman’s Creek and hurt himself so he’s decided to cancel the latest du Maurier tour.’
‘Poor man. Is he OK?’ Rose fished a soggy scrap of paper from her mug.
‘He’s sprained his ankle and cut his face,’ Oriel said. ‘But he’ll be OK.’
‘Well, I’m glad he’s not badly hurt but can’t he get anyone else?’
‘Not at short notice, but that’s not the worst thing. He says it’s a sign he should slow down and retire!’
‘Oh no. That is a bummer.’
‘I know. Why now – just when I’m getting sorted out? I know he’s pretty ancient. He must be well over sixty.’
Rose stifled a laugh; glad her mother couldn’t hear. Rose hadn’t even thought of her granny as ‘ancient’ and she’d been over eighty when she’d passed away. Then again, ancient to Rose meant at least a thousand years old. Her amusement evaporated as she realised the implications for Oriel. It was a setback, but hopefully wouldn’t affect the folklore tours that Oriel was going to lead.
‘I’m sorry to hear it. How many tour parties was he scheduled to bring to Falford?’
‘Two a week and sometimes three in the peak season. They all spend money in here and the gallery and pub. It’s bad for the whole community,’ Oriel declared. ‘But worse for the shop, when we’re desperate anyway.’
Rose shared Oriel’s disappointment, and scrabbled around for a positive spin. ‘Has he actually cancelled the whole of the du Maurier tour schedule?’
‘He’s cancelled this week’s. I don’t know about the rest of them. Grr. After he phoned to deliver the bad news, he did send me an email saying he’d tried to get another tour guide to take over. Then just before you arrived, he’s messaged me to say the woman who runs the other company is now pregnant with twins and can’t take on any more work.’
‘Arghh … There must be lots of people booked on the tours?’
‘Oh yes. Literary types, pensioners, posers, Germans, Americans, du Maurier super-fans.’ She bracketed the super-fans with her fingers. ‘Some of them even dress up as Mrs Danvers or as pirates … but they bring in good money.’
Rose laughed at this. ‘Then it’s a terrible shame to let them down and waste the revenue.’
‘It is, but I don’t know what to do. I can’t step in to lead the du Maurier tours. I don’t know enough about her.’ Oriel banged her mug so hard, the coffee slopped out over a pile of leaflets about reiki healing. ‘Argh!’
Rose helped her mop up the mess with a tissue, her mind whirling. ‘I agree this is a blow but we can’t give up just yet. It won’t affect your folklore tours, just makes it more important that they go well. Good job we have them up our sleeve!’
‘I know but if they don’t take off, I’ll be really worried. Auntie Lynne even hinted she might sell up when I spoke to her last night if I can’t get these extra tours off the ground and revenue coming in. That’s Nige’s influence.’
‘We can’t have that.’ She had to be positive for Oriel, who was now her friend – and she hated the thought of Nige sneering in the background, rubbing his hands together at the idea of the perfect excuse to close down Cornish Magick. She thought on her feet. ‘I know someone who might be able to help. Or at least someone who could.’
‘Who?’
‘A colleague at Penryn Uni. I’ll ask him if he’ll make enquiries in the English Lit department. See if any of the students know anything about du Maurier and need a bit of extra cash. Arts students usually do.’
Oriel wrinkled her nose. ‘That’d be amazing but …’ Her face fell. ‘I’d have to ask Mr Simpson if it was OK and we’d have to do some kind of deal. This is just what Nige’s been waiting for. Another excuse to persuade Auntie Lynne to shut the shop.’
‘Would she really do that?’
‘She used to say she’d never part with it but now I’m not so sure. It’s been in Lynne’s family for years. Lynne’s mum – my gran – started it in the 1960s in the hippy era. I don’t remember her but Lynne says she was ahead of her time. My own mum was never interested in taking it over, which is why Gran left it to Lynne.’
Rose was reminded of her Granny Marge again and how powerful an influence she’d been on Rose herself. ‘Then you can’t let her sell, if it means that much to the family.’
‘Thanks, Rose. Um. I also have another favour to ask.’
Rose braced herself. ‘That sounds ominous?’
‘Not really. I was going to ask Auntie Lynne to mind the shop while I do my first folklore tour, but I heard her say she has a hospital appointment and I don’t want to bother her so would you mind taking over, just for a few hours while I’m out?’
‘I’ll do my best but …’ Rose started, alarmed at Oriel’s enthusiasm.
‘Yes!’ Oriel punched the air. ‘I feel so much better now. I’ll call Mr Simpson now while you get in touch with this student. I won’t give in!’
What had she let herself in for? Rose mused as she moved to let herself into the flat. On the other hand, Oriel had given her a great excuse to nudge Prof Ziegler about the progress of their potential new joint project. She might also be able to help some poor Arts student forced to live on Pot Noodle and baked beans. It wasn’t all bad.
As Rose reached the beaded curtain, Oriel called to her, ‘Oh, I almost forgot.’
‘What?’
‘I meant to tell you before, but we’ve decided on our theme for the water pageant at the regatta. We’re doing Cornish myths and legends.’
‘Oh – sounds great fun.’
‘Yes, it’ll help promote the shop – and the tours too.’ Oriel beamed. ‘You gave us the idea, actually, because we were struggling until we went to the dig site.’
‘Glad I’ve been some use.’
‘Naomi is King Arthur, I’m the lady of the lake and you’re the Mermaid of Zennor.’
Rose let out a squeak of horror. ‘Am I going deaf? Because for a moment there, I thought you said I was a mermaid?’
‘Yes. It’s a fancy-dress pageant. Naomi’s done a design and we’ve started making the costumes. Didn’t you realise we’d all be in costume?’
‘I’d no idea we’d be taking it all that seriously.’
Oriel stared at her as if she was stark raving mad. ‘Everyone in Falford joins in the regatta! It’s the biggest day of the year. Evil Nige is turning his dinghy into an aircraft carrier and I’d rather jump off a cliff than let him and his cricket mates win the prize for best boat.’
Rose pictured herself in a shiny tail with glitter … ‘But a mermaid.’
‘You’ll look amazing. You’ve already got the hair.’ Oriel grinned. ‘All you have to do is sit in the boat and wave at people. Oh, and the committee have put you down for judging the children’s sandcastle competition too.’
‘Why?’
‘They thought you knew about castles. Never mind, it’ll be a laugh and it’s a huge honour to be the judge. Every family in Falford enters it. Just don’t pick those snotty Patel kids again. Their mum’s an architect and she brings proper tools and a blueprint and everything.’
‘Right …’
The shop bell dinged.
‘Oh, must go. It’s the Gweek Unicorn Appreciation Society. They’re always good customers.’
Hours later, Rose was writing up a report on their latest finds at the stone circles and had accidentally typed ‘unicorn shapes’ instead of ‘uniform shapes’ when she decided she needed a break. She took the opportunity to call Professor Ziegler. To her relief, the prof was enthusiastic and said she’d ask around in the English department but was sure at least one student would be delighted to have the extra work. On the downside, the professor couldn’t give Rose any update on the progress of the grant application for their joint project. Funds were tight – when were they not? – but she supported the basic premise and hoped the review committee would be sympathetic.
She returned a message from her mother then FaceTimed Maddie, who wasn’t working for once. Maddie had had a bath and was sitting on the sofa in a robe with her hair in a towel. She ‘casually’ mentioned she had some leave she needed to take and that her husband, Geraint, would be working away. Rose took the hint.
‘When are you planning on taking this leave?’
‘It’s flexible but Geraint has to go to Beijing for work in a couple of weeks’ time so I’ll be at a loose end and I thought it might be a good time to come and see Falford – and you of course.’
‘Of course.’ Rose laughed. ‘But …’
Maddie pounced on her hesitation like a cat. ‘Is there a problem with me coming then? If it’s awkward or you have plans …’
‘No. I want to see you. I’d love to. I was going to invite you to the Falford Village Regatta, but that isn’t until August and I don’t think I can wait that long.’
‘A regatta? Oh my God, that sounds delicious. I’m picturing lots of yachtie types braying over their champers on board their gin palaces.’
Rose suspected Maddie probably wasn’t far off in her assessment, thinking of the hundreds of craft moored at marinas along the estuary. Finn had said ninety per cent of them never left their berths and some had never even sailed at all from the day they were delivered to their mooring. ‘It’s all a bit of fun. Oriel reckons it’s totally non-serious and was started by the villagers to raise funds for the RNLI. I think it’s more like a village fete, only on the water. There are sailing races, swimming and kayak races, a fancy-dress competition and sandcastle building …’
‘A village fete on the water. I love it! I’ll definitely come to that too. Will you be sailing?’
‘I’m not joining in the races! I’m not up to that yet. Actually, I’ve been roped in to judge the sandcastle contest.’
Maddie shrieked in delight. ‘Sandcastles? Why you?’
‘Apparently as an archaeologist, I was deemed by the committee to know something about castles. Between us, I don’t think they knew what to do with me, after Oriel had volunteered me.’
‘You judging a sandcastle contest? Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.’
‘You’ll also get to meet Know-it-all Nige.’
‘Is this the bullying old fart who makes your landlady’s life a misery?’
‘That’s Nige, yes.’
‘I can’t wait.’ Maddie rubbed her hands together.
‘There’s something else too. I’m um – part of the water pageant.’
Maddie clapped her hands together, knocking a paperweight off the desk. ‘Oh God, this gets better! What on earth does that mean?’
‘Oriel and her partner are expecting me to be on their boat. It’s decorated in a Cornish myths and legends theme and I’m playing a mermaid.’
Maddie licked her lips in delight. ‘A mermaid? I have to tell Geraint.’
‘Calm down, Maddie. I had to say yes because I didn’t want to offend Oriel. She’s been very kind to me.’
‘Yes, but an actual mermaid. Well, you don’t need a wig, but you will need a tail. In fact, I’m going to treat you to a tail.’
‘Maddie, no … we can make the costumes. In fact, I think that’s the point.’
‘No chance. I’m ordering you the best mermaid outfit ever. I have a client who runs a costume hire business.’ Maddie’s eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘She owes me a favour. No more arguments. Leave it with me. We can talk more when I see you. I can’t wait to meet all these quirky characters!’
With a weak smile, Rose closed the chat down. In one way, she couldn’t wait for Maddie to square up against Nige and see for herself how gorgeous Falford was. On the other, the Morvahs would be under Maddie’s scrutiny and Rose had never been good at fooling her best friend.