A Perfect Cornish Summer. Phillipa Ashley
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past.
Sam recalled his words: ‘I’m toxic for this family. Don’t forget me, but accept that I can’t go back to the bad days and that means staying away.’
After that, Ryan vanished from her life for a few months without a trace. It was one of the most agonising times of Sam’s life when she didn’t even know if he was alive or not. She’d spent ages on the Internet looking for any trace of him. She’d called him every day until he’d changed his number. Once or twice she’d hear a rumour he’d moved to an area of Plymouth, then drive round the local pubs, looking for him. It had been hopeless, of course, and only led to disappointment and heartbreak.
Throughout this time, her relationship with Gabe had also imploded. Before, during and after Ryan’s trial, Gabe had tried to explain his reasons to her, insisting he had to go to the police for Ryan’s sake as much as because it was the right thing to do. He said he wanted to prevent anyone else from getting hurt in the village and to save Ryan from himself.
Everything Gabe said made perfect sense to Sam. He was right, of course, but that didn’t matter. She could never forgive him for turning in her own brother. Sam was forced to choose – and Ryan won. She’d brought him up, acted like a mother to him even though he was older, and Gabe had let her down so badly. She dumped him.
Gabe tried to make her change her mind but, in the end, he gave up. He found a job as a trainee chef in London, left Porthmellow and she’d never heard from him since. In the space of a few years, Sam had lost her mum, her brother and the love of her life.
After a few months, Ryan finally got in touch and Sam thought she might be able to persuade him to come home. But his call was only to say he was ‘OK’ but was never coming back to Porthmellow. Since then, she’d had very little contact with him.
All she heard of him these days was the odd card on her birthday and Christmas. In fact, she hadn’t seen him face to face since that first jail visit, and didn’t even know exactly where he was living or what he was doing for a job.
The scandal also took its toll on Zennor and Porthmellow itself. Some people blamed Ryan while others saw Gabe as the villain of the piece for turning on one of their own. It had cast a long shadow over Sam’s life too. Despite a few short-lived relationships and dates, there had been no one serious since Gabe. Sam’s heart had never really been in it when it came to meeting someone new, even if she kidded herself that she’d tried. Over the past year or so her growing festival and work commitments had given her the perfect excuse to put her personal life on the back burner, but she couldn’t help thinking her youth was slipping by. She wanted her own family and to find love again, but at the moment, she couldn’t see how it was going to happen.
She couldn’t blame Gabe for that. She had to change her own mindset and perhaps this tenth festival ought to be a turning point. She should get out there again, go on some dates, really try to make it work this time …
Sam shivered and realised that she was now soaked to the skin. Even her waterproof had started to leak and her jeans were literally dripping wet.
She slapped up her final leaflet and hurried off towards Stargazey’s business unit. She’d almost reached it when Chloe thudded up behind her. She was breathing hard and waving her hands. It wasn’t like Chloe to look so worried so Sam was instantly on the alert.
‘Sam! So glad I’ve tracked you down.’
‘Why? What’s up?’
‘That phone call earlier from Kris Zachary’s PA. It wasn’t great news. He’s had to pull out of the festival.’
Sam groaned. That was all she needed. ‘What?’
Chloe scrunched up her face. ‘Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s been declared bankrupt and his whole organisation’s gone into administration. He might even face tax evasion charges.’
‘Wow. I had no idea.’
‘No one did, but it’s true. His PA said he’s had to cancel all his future engagements for the next few months at least. It could be next year before his case comes up, if it gets that far.’
‘Crap.’ Sam pushed her hands through her damp hair in frustration. ‘Where are we going to get a new star chef at short notice?’
‘I’m sorry … it is a shock …’ Chloe brightened. ‘But the good news is that at least we’ve only paid part of his fee.’
Sam let out a groan. ‘Part of it is still a couple of grand. That’s money we can’t afford to lose. Plus we need to find the money for a new chef.’
‘Hmm …’ Chloe considered. ‘That’s not so good.’ She looked deflated, and if Chloe seemed beaten, they really were in trouble. The festival had grown from its early days and made a small profit but it was run on a very tight budget. There was no way they could afford to lose thousands of pounds.
‘I suppose there’s no chance of us recovering the money we’ve already paid him?’ Sam asked, clutching at straws.
Chloe wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, I did broach the subject with his PA and she said she’d try to see what she could do, but wasn’t hopeful. From experience, I think we’ll just join a long list of creditors and be right at the bottom of the pile. I doubt if there’s any point trying to sue.’
‘We can put it to the committee tomorrow evening,’ said Sam, giving herself a mental shake. They couldn’t let this setback, big though it was, ruin the festival, although she had no idea what she was going to do.
‘In the meantime, I’ll have a think about what we might be able to do. Perhaps we can get one of the local chefs to step in, although Kris was going to be a big draw and get lots of publicity. Thanks for trying, though …’ She slapped her hand on her forehead. ‘Arghh. We’ll have to change all the posters we just hung. They have Kris’s name splashed across them.’
‘Yes, we will.’ Chloe grimaced. ‘Although I suppose that’s the least of our worries now. I’ll phone around some of my contacts in the events world and see if anyone has any bright ideas. Give me a couple of hours?’
‘Anything you can suggest would be brilliant. Thanks, Chloe. I don’t know what the committee – or I – would do without you.’
Chloe beamed. ‘Ditto. It’s given me something to do since I moved to Porthmellow but you must let me know if you think I’m taking over?’
‘Don’t worry, I will but you’re not,’ said Sam, revising her opinion of Chloe being a little over-enthusiastic. She was very grateful for her help.
‘I’ll keep you posted.’
‘I’ll WhatsApp the rest of the committee and have a think while I get on with work. I’m late opening as it is and Stefan will be fuming.’
Sam and Chloe hurried off in opposite directions. In two minutes, Sam had reached the small unit on the mini trading estate on the outskirts of Porthmellow. The food festival was important, but she also had a business to run.
Stargazey was her bread and butter, or rather, her pie and mash. It had also helped to feed and clothe Zennor, until she’d finished studying and established her own successful graphics design company with Ben. The two of them had set up ZenBen Graphics in an old garage premises in the back streets behind the harbour and were doing well, in a modest way, designing websites, ads, publicity material and signs.
Sam pushed open the door of Stargazey, unhooked her apron from the staffroom door and started to wash her hands.
‘What time of day do you call this?’ Stefan stood in the doorway to the kitchen area, holding out blue latex-gloved hands dusted in flour. Stargazey made all its own crimped pie cases, using a traditional all-butter pastry that Sam had perfected over the years.
‘I’ve