The next morning, I woke, confused, to the sound of something buzzing. It stopped and started, urgent and annoying. It wasn’t a wasp. It was further away, mechanical. Lawnmower?
My head was fuzzy and pounding. What happened last night? Martha had been angry about the bone. Gareth had reburied it. I’d taken Martha home, and then gone back to the pool, where we’d drunk wine. Clem and Gareth had kissed all evening, some of it in the pool. I’d texted Josie, at Clem’s insistence, and asked her to come over, but she hadn’t replied.
Josie always replied. I hoped she was all right. I hoped her mum was OK.
I was glad, though, that she hadn’t come over. I’d drunkenly thought she’d be pleased to witness Gareth cheating on Maya, but actually it would have been awful for her. I was a crap friend.
How did people fall so easily into relationships? I had never got close to one. I’d kissed two people, just to get it done, and regretted it both times. I’d never met anyone I wanted to go out with. There was something wrong with me. There had to be. Mum was delighted I was ‘a slow developer’ since it gave her less to worry about, and that hadn’t made me feel any better.
When I opened my door and blinked out on to the landing, I realized the sound was coming from downstairs. It was buzzing over and over again.
I checked the time: nine thirty.
I stumbled down the stairs, starting to understand that this was the buzzer from the gate, and that it meant Clem’s friends had arrived in their taxi from the station. Meg and Rik: an inseparable couple who did everything together. They sounded nauseating.
I checked my phone. Martha had called me twice but had only texted a dry: I think your Londoners have arrived.
I could just see one person on the video screen, a boy with black hair who looked like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix apart from his frowny, sulky face. I inhaled deeply as the buzzer sounded yet again, and pressed the button.
‘Hi,’ I said. I watched his face change. He smiled at the camera.
‘Oh my God, Clemmie! We’ve been here hours! We had to let the cabbie go and hoped we were in the right place. Let us in already!’
‘It’s not Clem,’ I said, ‘but come in.’ I pressed the button and ran upstairs.
When I hammered on her bedroom door, Gareth’s voice said, ‘Hey!’ I pushed it open and saw that he was sitting on the bed, wearing just his pants, his hair lustrous over his shoulders, and that Clem was fast asleep, curled up on her side like a little child.
Clem’s room was stunning. The walls were pale blue, and everything was blue and white. There was a huge mirror on one wall, a corkboard filled with photos of her London life, clothes all over the floor. Her curtains were blowing in the breeze. It smelled of perfume and sleep.
Gareth reached for his T-shirt and pulled it on.
‘That them?’ he said.
‘Yes. Clem!’ I rapped on the open door and raised my voice. ‘Clem, your friends are here. You have to get up. I don’t want to deal with them on my own. I don’t know them.’
Gareth reached over and patted her shoulder. ‘Clemmie. Wake up.’
She sat up in bed, clearly naked, and yawned. ‘Jesus! I was asleep.’
I sighed. ‘Make her get up,’ I told Gareth. ‘They’re your friends, Clem! Not mine, not Gareth’s. We’ve never met them. Yours! And they’re here. So you need to put some clothes on.’
I’d never spoken to Clem like this before, but there was no way I was handling the new people on my own.
Josie would know how to talk to the London couple. What would she do? She wouldn’t go and talk to them while wearing a huge T-shirt and a pair of knickers, for a start. I went into my room and changed into the first thing that came to hand from the charity bag, a knee-length dress, and ran my fingers through my hair and managed to scrape it back into a ponytail to stop it looking so crap.
I opened the front door, even though no one else ever seemed to do that. It was heavy, and it creaked, and I liked it. As I watched the visitors approaching, I enjoyed the illusion of being the lady of the manor, though it was quickly overshadowed by intense self-consciousness. They were walking slowly, dragging wheely suitcases loudly across the stones. That boy and a girl. Rik and Meg. He was tall. She was small.
They looked so rich.
I found myself hoping they weren’t going to despise me. I willed them not to be the sort of people who did comedy Cornish accents and called people ‘yokels’. ‘Peasants’.
‘Hi there!’ called the girl when they got closer. She had long tangled hair and perfect make-up, and she was wearing a perfume that even I could tell was expensive. ‘We’re Clemmie’s friends – I’m Megan and this is Rik. Thanks for letting us in. I think we might have scared Clem’s great-grandma back there.’
At least she wasn’t being horrible.
‘Come in,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘You can leave your bags in the hall if you want. Clem’s on her way down. And it would take a lot to scare Martha. She texted to tell me you were here actually.’
The two of them looked at each other.
‘You see! Old people do use phones for things other than calls,’ said Rik. He looked at me. ‘Sorry. Ongoing discussion. So, where do we go?’
They both spoke like Radio 4.
I led them through the house, checking for a reaction at how beautiful it was, but there was nothing. Clearly, a big house was no big deal.
I texted Clem again.
We’re in the kitchen!!!! Come down.
Rik, too, smelled amazing. I looked at him and felt a twinge of something I didn’t usually feel. There was something about him. Something I couldn’t name. An electricity that crackled from him. I had the impression that if I touched him I’d get a shock, that it would pulse through me, and my hair would stand up on end.
He was probably a millionaire, and I was no one. I was Clem’s sidekick. Still, it was a nice feeling: more like admiring a movie star than anything real.
What would happen, I wondered, if I did touch him? Just brushed him in passing? Would there be electricity?
Megan was running her fingers through her hair. She had long eyelashes and very white teeth, and she seemed more Instagram image than real person.
‘Do you want to sit in the courtyard?’ I was winging it, channelling Felicity who was my role model for this scenario. ‘What can I get you? Coffee?’
I went inside to put the kettle on. I started loading last night’s dirty stuff into the dishwasher. There was a surprising amount of it. Champagne glasses, other glasses, plates, bowls.
Every now and then, I looked out. Rik and Megan were the most together couple I’d ever seen, and I had no business having electric feelings for someone else’s boyfriend. I would have to admire him from a distance and remember not to make a fool of myself.
Clem shrieked and ran past me wearing pink shortie pyjamas with an unnecessary fluffy blanket wrapped round her shoulders. I gave her a hard look that she didn’t see.
‘Oh my God!’ she shouted. ‘I can’t believe you’re here! Why’s it so fucking early?’
‘Babes,’ said Rik, ‘we’ve literally been travelling all night.’ He stood up and held out his arms for a hug.
I sensed Gareth behind me and turned. Our eyes met, and we both half smiled. He shook his head and walked backwards out of the kitchen like Homer Simpson disappearing into a hedge; I knew that Clem’s world of Londoners was too much for him. Me too, but I’d offered coffee, so I felt obliged to make it for them before I, too, could vanish backwards. I remembered Felicity sitting at the table with me, between bringing food and drinks, so I went and sat down next to Megan.
‘Welcome to Cornwall,’ I said. ‘Kernow a’gas dynergh. I’m Senara.’ Why did I say that? So stupid. Was I showing off?
‘Cool name. What was that other thing you said?’
I repeated it. ‘Kernow a’gas dynergh. It’s “Welcome to Cornwall” in Cornish.’ I cringed.
‘Oh my God, you speak Cornish! I love that. Can you teach me some?’
‘Yeah. The first word you need to know is splann. The only one really. It just means great. You can say it about anything. Would you like some breakfast?’
She held eye contact and nodded. ‘That would be splann. Right?’
I nodded. ‘Correct.’
Megan came with me, back into the kitchen, exclaiming about the lovely view of the ocean. I put the kettle back on and dumped the stuff that hadn’t fitted into the dishwasher into the sink and put the empty packaging into the bin and recycling. Then I looked for some way of making coffee, while she sat at the table. I had no idea. I’d only made tea in this kitchen so far.
‘Oh my God, the night train is amazing, isn’t it?’ Megan said. ‘I didn’t even know there was one. I love the way you wake up and look out of the window and it’s, like, oh hello, you must be Cornwall. Travelling in bed? It’s like an overnight flight, but so much greener.’
What would it be like to have this much confidence? To chat randomly and charmingly to strangers?
‘I’ve never been on it,’ I said, ‘but, yeah, it does sound good.’
I found a big cafetière thing, and a tin of brown stuff that smelled like coffee, so I spooned it in. I turned the oven on too, and poured boiling water on to what I hoped was the coffee.
I reminded myself not to let Megan assume I came from her world. I wasn’t going to be embarrassed about anything.
Who was I kidding?
‘I’ve only been to London once,’ I said, working hard on keeping it real, ‘and that was on a school trip.’
‘Oh right!’ Megan said, looking out of the French windows at the sunshine on the swimming pool. ‘Yeah, if I lived here, I’d never leave either. It’s so beautiful. I can’t wait to get in that pool. What’s the beach like?’ She went to stand in the doorway without waiting for an answer. ‘Hey! When’s the party, Clemmie?’
‘Tomoz!’ said Clem. She came over, standing on the stepping stones. ‘So, there’s us, and loads of, like, really awesome local people too. You’ll love them. We meet down the beach, and have fires and swim in the sea.’
I stifled a gasping laugh at that: Clem had done it once. Once. Now she was selling it as her Cornish lifestyle.
‘And my gran – my great-gran – is fine with it. I mean, I was going to try to pitch it to her as a “gathering of friends” rather than a party, but she basically said we have to have the biggest party we possibly can, and she wants to be there too, until ten.’
I stepped into the courtyard beside her. It was already hot, the sky a deep cloudless blue, the sun bright. That would be because (I checked the time) it was quarter to ten. Clem was standing on the smooth stone, so the surrounding gravel was spiky under my bare feet.
‘There’s coffee brewing,’ I said. ‘Who wants a croissant?’
I knew there were croissants in the freezer because Felicity had shown me. Mum and I had them once a year, on Christmas Day. Last year we hadn’t, though. Mum had made a fry-up for horrible Richard, her boyfriend at the time, and I’d had a bowl of cereal because I was pissed off.
‘Oh my God!’ said Rik. ‘Yes, please. Yours’ll be better than the train one.’
I went in and started to take mugs out of the cupboard.
‘Hey there.’ I looked round; he had followed me inside this time.
He was very tall. Like incredibly tall. And well mannered. He made me feel flustered and odd. Breathe, Senara. I shivered a bit, without wanting to.
He was with his girlfriend.
‘Can I do anything to help?’
‘All under control, I think.’ I pushed the plunger down on the coffee and poured it into five cups. ‘Thanks, though. Croissants will be another –’ I checked the display – ‘twelve minutes.’
‘Great. Well, I’ll keep an eye on them if you like.’
He looked at me with velvety dark eyes. I took half a step back, but kept staring at him.
This was new. I never felt like this. It really did feel as if some alien had stepped into my world. I was transfixed.
Seconds ticked by.
I pulled myself away before he noticed me ogling him, and put a jug of milk and the sugar bowl on the tray, copying the way Felicity had done it.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘That would be great.’
Rik put three cups on to the tray and said, ‘And let me take this for you. Save you coming out.’
I frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Oh sorry. I just assumed you’d be …’ He gestured round at the kitchen, which was, despite my efforts, still messy.
I tried to work out what he meant.
And then I did.
‘The coffee’s made. The breakfast is in the oven. You assumed I’d rather carry on tidying the kitchen than …’ I kept my voice as level as I could. ‘Actually, yeah. You’re probably right.’
‘Oh God, sorry!’ He stepped back, half smiling. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude. I apologize.’
I couldn’t believe I’d thought, even for one second, that he was good-looking. I hoped his stupid electricity fried him from the inside. I put milk into my cup and Gareth’s, then gave us each a spoonful of sugar because we needed it. I picked them both up, then left the room, shaking. I took the stairs as fast as I could without spilling anything, wanting nothing but the sanctuary of my room. The room I really wanted was my bedroom at home, my real room in a world that was mine, but this yellow one would have to do for now. I kicked the door open, gasped and jumped, sloshing coffee over the tops of both cups.
‘Sorry, Senni.’ Gareth was sitting on my bed. ‘Didn’t mean to be creepy. Lurking in your room. I couldn’t think where to go where they definitely wouldn’t find me. I know they’re together, but do you think he’s Clem’s ex?’
I handed him his coffee, and he gulped it back.
‘Who cares? She was nice, but he’s a wanker.’
I told him about Rik offering to keep an eye on the breakfast and take the tray out so I could tidy up the kitchen.
‘He probably thinks I’m unpacking their cases or something. Did Clem even make up a bedroom for them? I bet she didn’t.’ I put my head in my hands. ‘Does he think I’m a maid? Oh God, he does. He does, doesn’t he?’
‘I thought Clem and I were getting on,’ Gareth said. ‘We were having an amazing time. Why do her friends have to ruin everything?’
I gulped my coffee. ‘No idea. Glad you’re here.’
‘Glad you are. Have to say, I won’t be sticking around for long.’
We shared a little smile, an acknowledgement that we had somehow stepped into the wrong world. I thought of Josie and decided to go straight to her and check in. Josie was real.
There was a shout from outside: it was unmistakably Clem. The window was open so Gareth put a finger to his lips and stuck his head out. I joined him. We couldn’t see them, but we could hear them. I held my breath.
‘Shut up, Rik!’ Clem’s voice was loud and she was laughing. ‘Oh, you absolute twat. She let you in and made coffee because she’s nice. She lives in the village, but she’s not staff! My mum and hers used to be best friends. Mum would go insane if she heard you! And so would Gran, and she’s actually here, so you need to watch yourself.’
‘Oh shit. But – she’s wearing uniform. Like Holly does at home.’
It took me a moment to process that.
Clem carried on talking. ‘Don’t worry. She’s cool. Just explain that it was a misunderstanding. Nothing could offend Senni. So, tell me about the night train? Next time I’m going to catch it and make them all drive my stuff down without me.’
I glanced at Gareth and closed the window. I looked down at myself, and he looked at me. I moved to the mirror. Our eyes met in the reflection, and I saw him trying not to laugh.
It was funny. Almost.
The dress I’d grabbed from the bag this morning was black, made from T-shirt material. It was a shift, knee-length on me, and plain. I’d scraped my hair back.
‘Oh my God,’ I said. ‘Did I accidentally wear uniform?’ I could barely finish the sentence because I started laughing (it was that or cry).
Gareth was laughing so hard I thought he was going to hurt himself.
‘You look like Holly at home,’ he said, mimicking Rik. ‘Oh my fucking God! He literally thought you were a maid! In uniform! Because they have one at home! That’s more normal for him, than for you to be a friend wearing a black dress.’
I laughed until I cried, and he did too, but underneath it there was something hard and spiky.
‘I’m done,’ I said when I could speak, and I felt my laughter turning to tears, and tried to hold it all back.
‘Senni.’ Gareth stopped laughing abruptly. ‘Oh God, you poor thing. It’s shit. Look, you’re doing nothing else for the three of them, OK? You’re not being Holly. No making up beds or anything. No more coffee and croissants. You’re here to keep an eye on Clem and Martha. Those two, Meg and what’s-his-name, are not allowed to be here at all.’ He took me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes. ‘Fuck. Them. OK?’
I nodded and put my cheek on his chest. ‘No more Holly,’ I said.
‘Wish she’d come down instead, whoever she is. Right, you’d better get changed, and then let’s get out of here.’
I took some of my normal clothes into the bathroom, showered and dressed as myself.
‘I’m going to obsess about this if I’m on my own,’ I said when I came out. ‘Can I hang out with you?’
‘Course. Let’s head down to the beach. It’s too sunny to stay in.’ He gave me a mock-confused look. ‘But why are you going to obsess? I thought that nothing could offend Senni?’
That made us laugh again, but I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all.
Josie refused to meet us at the beach, even though we knew she wasn’t at work. She was offhand and distant. We spoke to her in turn, passing the phone between us, trying to coax her, but she wouldn’t engage. In the end, it took the Holly story to bring her out.
‘I knew this would happen,’ she said. ‘OK, fine. You’ve worn me down. I’ll be there in twenty.’
She arrived fifteen minutes later. There was a cloud of fury around her, and I didn’t think it was just because we’d spent the night at Clem’s. There was something else, but she wouldn’t talk about it.
‘Seriously, guys,’ she said, ‘what did you expect? Your little love-in with Clem Parker was never going to work out. She’s always going to treat you like servants.’ She side-eyed Gareth. ‘Or the sexy gamekeeper, or whatever. I can’t believe you stayed over.’
He nodded and looked down.
‘You need to tell Maya,’ I said, even though my policy was to stay out of his chaotic relationships.
‘I know.’ He held up his phone. ‘Totally gonna.’
‘You’re going to tell her you spent the night with Clem Parker?’ Josie’s voice dripped with scepticism. ‘Yeah, right, you are.’
‘Shh!’ Gareth covered his phone with his hand, as if it would convey this fact to Maya through the ether. He wasn’t going to tell her; we all knew that.
Josie rolled over and looked at the sky. I did the same. The beach was lumpy under my back, and the sky was deep blue. ‘Why do you do it, though, Gaz?’ she said. ‘Why are you such a shit? I’m way over it, but why? Why do you literally love-bomb any girl you fancy until she agrees to go out with you, wait until she’s really into you, and then dump her for the next one? What’s it about? Some deep-seated inadequacy?’
‘I don’t do that!’ We both raised our heads to stare at him. ‘I don’t know. It just happens.’
‘Are you always looking for The One?’ I said. ‘Is it a search for the perfect girl? Because, mate …’ I pointed to Josie.
‘That ship has sailed,’ she said at once.
He shook his head. ‘It’s not that.’
‘Thrill of the chase,’ said Josie. ‘Right, G? The bit you like is the pursuit. The excitement. The moment it settles into a relationship, you get bored and look for the next one.’
‘I mean, I’m sixteen,’ he said, defensive. ‘I’m not exactly … I don’t know. Who do I mean?’
‘Henry the Eighth,’ we both said.
‘Or Donald Trump,’ added Josie, to annoy him.
‘Yeah. You make it sound like I’ve had a hundred girlfriends. I’ve actually had …’ Josie and I looked at each other while he counted on his fingers. She gave a little eyeroll, and I mirrored it. ‘Six,’ he said. ‘And that’s if you count Clem, who is obviously not my girlfriend.’
‘You see!’ Josie was triumphant. ‘Henry the Eighth. Which am I?’
He looked down. ‘You know that. Fourth.’
‘Anne of Cleves. She got the best deal. I’ll take that.’
‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll stop asking people to be my girlfriend. I’ll keep it light in future. Because I do know that this is shit. Better?’
We both nodded. Gareth looked around, clearly hunting for a new subject. He landed on something and turned to Josie.
‘Remember that bone Senara found in the garden, in the winter? Your neighbour’s dog dug up another one. Mrs Roberts saw it because I forgot to hide it, and she went mad.’
‘You what?’
I filled her in, thinking again about how angry Martha had been, how quickly that had happened. Josie was picking up little handfuls of stones and letting them slip through her fingers.
‘That’s kind of creepy,’ she said when I’d finished. Her voice was distant, strange. ‘Do you think there really is a plague pit? Or a burial ground?’ I watched a range of emotions pass across her face, things that she wasn’t saying.
‘Clem says it’s a pet graveyard.’
Josie stood up. ‘We have to go and see. I don’t give a shit what Clem says. You know that she just comes out with anything that makes her life easier. If we dig down a bit more, we’ll find out if it’s a dog or a plague pit. Or –’ I watched her face change, wondered what was going on with her – ‘something else.’
‘I’m not going back to Cliff House,’ I said. ‘No way.’ I thought about Rik thinking I was his servant. I hated him. I didn’t want to see him ever again.
‘Same,’ said Gareth. ‘No way am I going to dig in that garden with my bare hands. Plus, what else could it be, Jose?’
I didn’t understand. ‘Why, Josie? Why do you care about some old bones?’
I watched her hesitate, could see that she was trying to decide what to say to us. In the end, she shrugged. ‘I’ve been thinking about death,’ she said. ‘A lot. And I don’t know, but the idea of a plague pit puts everything in perspective. You know, imagining the people who lived here hundreds of years ago, who got ill and died. It’s kind of comforting. And it means that everything at Cliff House isn’t perfect, and I like that too.’
‘You’ll come to Cliff House?’ I said. ‘Because of the plague pit?’
It wasn’t that. It was something else, but she wasn’t saying.
‘I’ll go for the dead people, but not for the live ones. You’ve got a key for the gates, yeah?’
I patted my backpack. ‘Yeah.’
She stood up. ‘If anyone treats you as staff, Senni, I’m going to punch them in the face.’