Friday evening – Kilhallon
Demi
My evening walk with Mitch takes me from Kilhallon Cove to the farmhouse – I needed some quiet time to myself after my run-in with Jade. She must have trained at the same school of scariness as Mawgan. On my way back, there are still streaks of coral pink across the sky. It’s strange to think the sun is still there somewhere, lighting up someone else’s day. Mine will start again all too soon and it’ll finally be Lily’s wedding day.
I wonder how she feels. How Ben feels. How I’d feel if I was making a ‘forever’ commitment to Cal. Mitch keeps close to me this evening, nose to the ground, scenting the traces left by new people and dogs. My wellies sink softly into the dewy evening grass as I walk across the glamping field, now dominated by the tepee, its creamy canvas sides tinged a soft rose hue by the sunset.
Lamps glow from the cottages and lanterns flicker outside the yurts. A campfire has been lit in the communal area and a group of guests are laughing and chatting. Glasses clink and someone strums softly on a guitar. There’s a lump in my throat at the sight and sound of it all. How far we’ve come since last Easter, Mitch and me and Cal, and all our friends and family. I reach the car parking area by the farmhouse where the mobile signal is more reliable and hope my phone will beep with a message from Cal, but there’s nothing.
The farmhouse seems very big and quiet without Cal. Mitch settles in the sitting room and I go into the study to check the answer phone for messages. There are a couple about forward bookings, which I make a note to reply to, and one from a newspaper, which I delete. I sit in Cal’s battered leather swivel chair and decide to grab my chance for an early night because I need to be up super early tomorrow and full of energy to last well into the early hours. I’m about to get up from the desk when I spot a letter on Cal’s desk. He’s never been great at admin but I’m not sure he would have intended me to see this. He must have left it when he rushed off to catch his plane: it’s dated on that day. It’s a letter from his solicitor but it’s the document attached to it that makes me grow cold.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
This Last Will and Testament is made by me, Calvin Ross Penwith
I HEREBY REVOKE all former Wills and codicils made by me and declare this to be my Last Will (‘My Will’)
My hands are shaking. I know I shouldn’t read it but I can’t help myself. I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised that Cal’s made a will, but why would he do it now? He hasn’t gone anywhere dangerous, unless he’s planning to in the near future …
There’s a section about executors – Robyn and his solicitor and then a short list of ‘legacies’ which amount to cash gifts for Robyn and Polly. After that there’s a hefty donation to the charity Cal worked for plus a generous sum for the St Trenyan Community Fund. It’s too late to stop reading now, even though I feel guilty about prying into such a personal document.
I come to a section called ‘Property’ and one relating to ‘Other Assets’.
‘No. No, he can’t do that.’
Even as I blurt out the words, I drop the will like hot coals.
No. I must have made a mistake. I force myself to pick the letter up again and read the rest of it. Then I scan it again – and again – but it is true. Cal has left Kilhallon House, all the cottages, the resort – and Demelza’s – to me in the event of his death.
‘No. No, I don’t want them. I don’t want any of it.’
I’m muttering aloud in an empty room and I glance around guiltily. There’s no one to hear. My stomach somersaults.
‘I just want Cal.’
I hate the thought that Cal might not be around one day or that he even thinks he might not be around. Why would he make a will now unless he planned on going back to his aid work? It’s not as if he’s in any danger here at Kilhallon, or in Greece, so the only reason to update his will was if he was heading to somewhere dangerous.
Helping Esme and her family was bound to have a big impact on him. He never wanted to leave them in the first place; if he hadn’t been captured, he’d still be in Syria now, taking risks. Why would he stay with one person when his real love and passion is with many people?
I throw the will away. It lands on the threadbare rug that Cal refuses to get rid of, despite Polly saying it’s moth-eaten. That rug is part of Kilhallon now. So am I, I’m part of Kilhallon now … But without Cal, the place would mean nothing to me. I could never carry on without him on my own.
My heart almost jumps out when the phone extension on the desk rings out.
‘Hello, Kilhallon Park?’
‘Demi? Thank God I’ve got hold of you.’
‘Cal!’ I burst out laughing in relief at hearing his voice after my silly, gloomy thoughts.
‘Why are you laughing?’
I turn my back on the will. ‘Nothing. I was only thinking about you and the phone rang out.’
There’s a pause his end which could be a delay. ‘Are you in the study?’
‘Yes. I was checking the answer phone messages before I went to bed. Have you met Esme?’
There’s a long pause while I hold my breath. ‘Yes, I have.’
‘And? How was she? How are you?’
‘She’s OK. She’s more than OK. I – I’ll tell you more when I get back.’ I can barely hear him with the faintness of the signal and the tooting of horns and engine noise but I can sense his relief and happiness.
‘Where are you? Outside the airport?’
‘I wish. I haven’t even got there yet. I’m in a taxi en route but the traffic in Athens is hell and I don’t know if I’ll make my flight. I’ll try everything, I swear, but there’s a chance I might miss the wedding if I can’t get on a plane tonight.’
After the day I’ve had and finding the solicitor’s letter, tears are so close but I don’t want Cal to know. ‘Oh … I hope you can make it.’
‘I know. I’ll do everything I can. Hold on …’ Horns blast and I hear shouts down the line then Cal asking the taxi driver if there’s any other route to the airport. He comes back to me. ‘We’re going to try a detour but it’ll be tight even if we can find a way through the jams. I’m sorry, Demi. Are you all right? Is everything going to plan?’
‘Yes, I’m OK and everything’s going to plan.’ Sort of. ‘Kit, Polly and the staff have been fantastic.’
‘I knew you could manage without me,’ he says loudly.
‘I didn’t mean that. Cal, I hope you can make it. I want you to be here, I need you … Cal? Can you hear me? Cal? Are you there? Cal!’
The call has dropped out again. In the gathering gloom, I wait by the phone in case he tries to ring me back, unable to move, until the dusk turns to darkness and I can hardly see the words in front of me at all.