The stepladder wobbled as Poppy looped new bunting over a nail on the veranda roof. Her heart rate jumped as she steadied herself. It wouldn’t do to fall off and break her leg before the Low Tide Festival even started, but she had to have the Starfish looking its best.
Satisfied that the bunting was safely hooked, she climbed down to the decking and admired the pennants flapping in the late summer breeze. The mini flags in ice cream colours complemented the new paintwork beautifully and were a lovely backdrop for the display stock. In a couple of hours, the first influx of visitors would arrive for her first festival.
This year, it was to take place on the lowest tide of the year marked with partying, barbecues and general celebration. A steel band had been booked and beach cricket and boules tournaments organised. The Harbour Kiosk would wheel its mobile stand onto the sands to serve cold drinks and ice cream, while the Driftwood and Moor’s Head had banded together to run a bar and seafood barbecue.
The festival marked one last hurrah before the weather started to turn and the nights drew in ever more quickly. Visitors had booked months in advance specifically to be on Scilly for the festival. Extra ferry services were bringing visitors from the other islands and they’d all have to pass by or very near the Starfish Studio. As it was Poppy’s first Low Tide Festival, she’d employed Kelly to supervise the studio so that she could enjoy the height of the festivities with Archie, Fen and Jake.
With the studio in Kelly’s hands, Poppy and Jake joined several hundred islanders and visitors on the sands. Slowly but surely, the waters retreated from the channel, gradually uncovering more and more of the seabed. Finally, only one small pool was left in the middle with sandbanks either side. Some people had already started walking from both islands and met in the middle with laughter and excited whoops. The food stands and entertainers had already set up on the sands at either side. The Caribbean sounds of the band filled the air. Soon there were several hundred people gathered, drinking and crossing between the islands.
Poppy and Jake bought fish tacos from the barbecue and amused each other with secret touches and looks. Every time his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed hers or he shot her a dark sexy glance, she tingled all over. It was almost impossible to hold a rational conversation with Jake by her side, knowing what they’d been up to for the past days in her bed at the studio. They’d spent the week together but as yet, no one seemed to have noticed.
Jake left her to take a few photographs, but Poppy still couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she watched him capture the festivities. The whole scene was bathed in the light bouncing off the water and creamy sand. She hadn’t felt so happy for a very long time; perhaps never – definitely never. Last night, Jake had told her he loved her and it had felt natural to say it right back. She felt easy and comfortable with him in a way she now realised she hadn’t felt with Dan. It was best for both of them that they’d split up, however painful it had been.
Maisie joined her with the buggy, leaving wet tyre marks in the sand. Baby Eloise was sleeping soundly.
‘You look happy,’ she said, with a shrewd glance at Jake.
Poppy tore her eyes from him. ‘I am.’
Maisie raised an eyebrow. ‘Any particular reason?’
Poppy couldn’t resist it. ‘Might be.’
‘I’m very happy for you both. You deserve it.’
‘Thanks.’ She nodded at the makeshift bar where a handsome blond man was serving beers alongside the Moor’s Head staff. ‘Patrick looks busy.’
‘He’s in his element,’ said Maisie. ‘And so am I.’ She looked down adoringly at the tiny bundle in the buggy.
Hugo Scorrier’s dog, Basil, scampered past them, driven wild by the smells and scent of barbecued food. Hugo was chatting to Asha and didn’t notice straightaway.
‘Basil! For God’s sake,’ Hugo bellowed as his dog jumped up at the barbecue stall. ‘Not the sausages!’
Basil ignored him and almost dragged the cloth off the stall.
‘Basil! Come back here!’ Asha’s voice carried above the chatter and steel band.
Basil stopped dead. He trotted back to Hugo and Asha and dropped a sausage on her wellies.
‘Good boy,’ she said, patting his head. ‘Go on, then. Just this one.’
Basil gulped down the sausage.
‘He never does a damn thing I tell him. You must have the knack,’ said Hugo and slipped his arm around her back.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Maisie. ‘Thank God someone’s taken on Hugo. The rest of us can relax. Right, I’d better be on my way before this one wakes up and gets all grouchy.’
A few people were gathered around Archie, who’d set up his easel and was painting. Jake was still taking photographs, leaving Poppy some time to take in the scene. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so at home. She only wished her own family could be with her more often, but the season would be over by the end of October and she planned on going back for a longer visit – and taking Jake with her. She hadn’t told her parents about him yet – that would cause a stir.
Fen joined her, a large gin and tonic in her hand. ‘It’s good to see them home, isn’t it? And I’m so happy for you and Jake,’ she said as they watched Jake and Archie at their work.
‘Thank you. They both seem to have settled back in well, don’t they? But how are you, Fen? So sorry that you lost a friend. Had you known her a very long time?’
‘Since I was in my early twenties. It had been a long time since I’d seen her – Sheila – though.’ Fen’s voice broke. Poppy felt she’d touched a raw nerve.
‘I didn’t mean to make you unhappy.’
‘You haven’t. It’s good to talk about her …’ Fen hesitated. ‘I – I know you found those drawings.’
Poppy winced inwardly. How she wished that she and Jake hadn’t uncovered this slice of Fen’s private life. ‘I’m sorry. It was the day we opened the drawer. We should have told you about them, but Jake didn’t know what to do. We didn’t want you to be embarrassed and …’ Poppy took a deep breath. ‘I suppose we felt awkward too, even accidentally coming across something so personal.’
To her surprise, Fen smiled. ‘You youngsters. I bet it was a shock to find out that a pair of oldies like us had a past.’
Poppy grimaced, then smiled to cover her awkwardness. She owed it to Fen to be open-minded and grown-up. ‘That’s our problem. I am sorry for finding them though.’
‘Don’t worry. Archie has shown them to me. In fact, he’s framed one of them himself and it’s in my bedroom.’
‘Oh.’
‘There’s been enough secrecy and hiding things away. I think you deserve to know about those drawings.’
‘I don’t want to intrude, but if you want to tell me, I’m happy to listen.’
Fen touched her hand. ‘Thank you. It might help a little to speak to someone who won’t judge me. You see, I first met Sheila when she came to the isles in nineteen sixty-six. In those days, Archie ran painting courses to make a bit of extra money to support the family. I did some modelling for him. Ellie knew about it and seemed happy enough. At the time, although I had a crush on Archie, I kept it well hidden. Ellie was my friend and neither I nor Archie would ever have hurt her. I’d rather have died.’
So, Archie and Fen were in love. Poppy had always thought so, and Jake had told her Archie’s side of the story but to hear it from Fen’s own lips – it was so sad. ‘Fen. I didn’t realise …’
‘No. Some things are best left as secrets. I don’t believe in all this sharing and baring your soul in public. Especially in those days and especially when you make a habit of falling for the wrong person. I loved Archie but, you see, I also loved Sheila.’
Poppy was stopped in her tracks. ‘Oh …’
‘Yes. She and I hit it off right away. Almost from the first moment we saw each other, the way she looked at me wasn’t like other women did. When I was modelling, it wasn’t envy or disgust – Sheila liked me in the same way that Archie did. She was shy and the way she kept glancing up and looking at me, it was like a butterfly landing on a flower, so gentle and careful, but she kept on doing it. And I felt the same way about her.’
Poppy hardly dared speak, imagining what it must be like for Fen to speak of a love so private and personal and, back then, so illicit. Her heart went out to Fen. ‘That’s so beautiful. Did you get together?’ she asked gently.
‘Sheila was on the course for two weeks and we knew we didn’t have much time, so I bit the bullet and let her know how I felt. I had the most wonderful two weeks of my life with her. We went on picnics and walks and took Archie’s boat out. To the outside world, it was all innocent, because in those days, no one would have suspected we were anything but friends.’
‘Did Archie know?’
‘Of course, he did. Nothing shocks him and, bless the man, he was happy for me. He knew that the two of us could never be together and he was delighted that I’d found someone. But, of course, it could never be for me and Sheila. Not back then.’
Poppy’s heart broke a little more. She guessed what was coming.
‘Sheila went home and we promised to keep in touch. When she finished her nursing training, we vowed we’d get together and live together as a proper couple. We’d move to London or abroad … We kept in touch for a few years and she sent letters and cards. I still have them in the cottage.’ Fen smiled though there was sadness in her eyes. ‘I keep them in an old box of Leo’s Dreamies inside my wardrobe.’
Poppy let out a breath. ‘So, the older drawing was for Sheila?’
‘Yes. Archie wanted me to send it to her, but I never dared. It was a good job I didn’t.’ Fen sighed heavily.
‘Why? What happened?’
‘Sheila married a man she met at the hospital – a consultant – and her letters changed. They became the kind of letters that friends – acquaintances – exchange and when she told me she’d met “a wonderful man she was going to marry”, I knew we’d never live out our dreams – perhaps I’d always known that. I wrote back and congratulated her and, after that, there were only birthday and Christmas cards with a scribbled one line, ‘hope you’re well’ kind of thing. As the years went by, she’d always send a photo at Christmas, with her and the children – and the grandchildren – as if she wanted to remind me to keep my distance. Until last Christmas.’ Fen held up her hands. ‘See these rings? The one on my left hand was from Archie, a couple of years after Ellie died.’
‘It’s beautiful. Not one of Minty’s, I can see that.’
Fen smiled. ‘I wouldn’t have her stuff within a mile of my person. No, it was made by an artist on St Saviour’s. And this one.’ Fen pointed to the thin silver circle with its amber oval, on her right hand. ‘This one came from Sheila. It arrived out of the blue in a jiffy bag last Christmas. There was a card with it, not signed but it said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave.” I knew who it was from and I also knew that something must have changed for her to have sent it. Turns out she had cancer.’
Poppy bit her lip. Her heart ached for Fen. ‘I’m pleased she sent it to you, even though she was so ill. It’s a beautiful ring. They both are and I’ve often admired them. She must have still cared about you very much. It’s heartbreaking you lost her; I’m so sorry.’
Fen held out both hands. The rings glinted in the sunlight. ‘Now, don’t feel sorry for me. It wasn’t our time.’ Fen patted Poppy’s hand, almost as if she was comforting her. What a brave, generous woman she was.
‘I wish you could have been with Sheila, all the same.’
‘Don’t be heartbroken because I’ve had the love of Archie all my life, and in later years, his full love. That’s more than some people do or they stay in a loveless marriage long after the joy has gone. You see, there are so many different kinds of love and ways of loving. I’m one of those people who doesn’t see a man or a woman, or a label. I just see a person who I fall in love with or not. And there have only been two: Sheila and Archie.’
‘But how awful for both you and Sheila, to love each other and not feel you could express it and to have to live a lie. I feel angry at the past, Fen. I want to go back and shout at people.’
‘Well, you can’t and you’ll only eat yourself up with bitterness if you take that course. Times were different then. I hate to sound like an old fart, but you young people don’t realise the freedoms you have and how precious they are. I know things are far from perfect, but you’ve far more opportunities to be who you are and love who you want. I kept my love life private. That’s not easy, as you’ve found, especially in such a small community. I’m not an “ism” and I won’t be labelled.’
‘Oh Fen. I’d never label you or judge you.’
‘You might not. You’re young – you and Jake – and you’re open-minded and you have a generous heart, but there are many who don’t. Even if they didn’t, I still prefer to keep things private, and so does Archie. So did Sheila. I don’t blame her and I never will. She’s gone now and her death and the funeral hit me hard.’
‘I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. I wish I’d known,’ Poppy hugged her.
‘Thank you, dear. It was a shock and I was bitterly grieved when I heard.’
‘And even at the funeral, no one knew how you’d felt about each other?’
‘Gosh, no. Everyone thought we’d just been friends a long time ago. Sheila lost her husband a few years back, but her two children and her grandchildren were there. Everyone was very kind to me, thanked me for coming, but to them, I expect, I was only another old codger who’d turned up for the tea and cakes.’
‘I’m sure they didn’t think that. When my grandad died, Mum and Dad were really touched and pleased that his friends had travelled so far to his funeral.’
Fen sighed. ‘I wanted to scream out: “I loved her too and she loved me.” Imagine if I’d done that over the sausage rolls and the scones?’ Her eyes shone brightly.
‘I can’t imagine not being able to let the world know how much you love someone.’ She glanced at Jake, brimming with relief that they’d finally decided to admit how they felt. ‘At least Sheila knew you loved her.’
‘Yes, and it makes me happier than I can say that you and Jake are together. You both deserved a fresh chance at happiness after what you’ve been through.’
Poppy hugged her again. ‘That’s lovely of you to say, but it’s Jake who’s truly suffered. I was devastated when Dan first went off, but now I think I had a very lucky escape. It was worth the pain to meet someone new.’
‘Someone who’s worthy of you,’ said Fen. ‘Now, let’s not dwell on the bad times. Let’s make the most of the party. Days like this don’t come around that often and I don’t mean the low tide.’
‘Does Jake know about you and Sheila?’ Poppy asked.
‘I don’t think so, unless Archie’s explained, but you can tell him if you like. I’d be too embarrassed to speak to him myself, him being a young man – he’s like a grandson to me, so you’d do me a service if you told him.’
‘Of course, but what about you and his grandpa? Does he know about you two?’
‘Archie’s spoken to him about it and I think it’s more than time that we stopped hiding how we feel.’
At that moment, Fen caught Archie’s eye and he walked over, his stick sinking a little in the sand.
As Poppy looked on in delighted amazement, Fen linked arms with him and he kissed her on the lips.
Heads turned towards them. It was fair to say that a few jaws dropped.
‘That’s taken their minds off the tide!’ said Fen in triumph.
Archie chuckled. ‘Look at Trevor’s face. And his wife’s. Anyone would think we’d dyed our hair purple and walked out here in the buff.’
‘Maybe we should,’ said Fen.
‘I wish we’d done it years ago,’ said Archie, giving Fen another kiss.
Jake appeared, holding his camera in one hand. ‘If two eighty-year-olds can do it, I think we could too,’ he said and put his arm around her back.
Poppy turned and kissed him, the sun warm on her back, right there in the middle of the sand. When they broke away, they exchanged smiles and heard applause and whooping. Maisie raised her glass of fizz and mouthed ‘way to go’. Fen, who was holding hands with Archie, waved at them.
‘Hey! The tide’s on the turn!’ someone shouted.
The shout caught everyone’s attention and they looked towards the channel, where the waters were covering the sand, filling in the hollows, shining in the sunlight, and slowly but unstoppably, joining together again.
THE END