was wondering whether you’d like to come out with me tomorrow?’ he interrupted. ‘We could have lunch, and you could show me the sights of Penhally.’
‘Tom, you were born here, you know what the sights are,’ she protested.
‘There’s bound to have been some changes—new developments—since I was last here,’ he argued back, ‘and I thought—perhaps for old times’ sake?’
She didn’t want to do anything for old times’ sake. Two postcards, that’s all he’d sent her after he’d left for America. One from New York, saying he was homesick and lonely, and another one from California six months later, saying he’d applied for a job with Deltaron. After that, there’d been nothing. Not a card, or a letter, or a phone call, for the past twenty years during which she’d got on with her life, and if it hadn’t been the life she’d planned, dreamed of, it had been a satisfying life, and now he was back, and she didn’t want him to be back.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said firmly. ‘I have things to do tomorrow.’
‘Please.’
If he had been smiling at her with that old gotta-love-me smile she would never have wavered, but he wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked uncharacteristically unsure, uncertain, and Tom Cornish had never been unsure of anything in his life.
‘I can’t do lunch,’ she said hesitantly. Won’t, more like. ‘As I said, I have things to do tomorrow.’
‘Half a day is better than none,’ he said. ‘Do you still live in Polkerris Road with your parents? I’ll pick you up at two o’clock—’
‘Three o’clock,’ she interrupted. ‘And I’ll meet you outside your hotel.’
He looked disappointed, then he nodded.
‘OK, three o’clock it is,’ he said, then to her surprise he added quickly, ‘You will come, won’t you?’
The uncertainty was back in his eyes, big time, and a slight frown creased her forehead.
‘I said I’d come,’ she pointed out, ‘and I will.’
Though God knows why, she thought as she joined Tassie and the two of them began walking down the road together.
‘He’s nice,’ Tassie observed, hopping from one paving stone to the next in some sort of elaborate game only she understood.
‘Tom can be very nice when he wants to be,’ Eve replied noncommittally.
‘He told me you and he were best friends when you were younger,’ Tassie continued with her usual directness, and Eve manufactured a smile.
‘It was a long time ago, Tassie.’
‘He still likes you. I can tell. In fact,’ the girl added, ‘I bet if we turn round right now he’ll be watching you from outside the post office.’
‘Tassie,’ Eve began in consternation, but the girl had already stopped and was looking over her shoulder.
‘Told you so,’ Tassie said.
‘He’s watching us?’ Eve said faintly.
‘See for yourself if you don’t believe me,’ Tassie declared, and Eve shook her head, feeling her cheeks prickle with heat.
‘I’ve got to get you home.’
‘Chicken.’ Tassie laughed.
Self-preservation, more like, Eve thought, walking on determinedly. I don’t owe him anything, not after all these years.
But you’ve still agreed to meet him tomorrow afternoon, haven’t you? a little voice mocked at the back of her mind, and she groaned inwardly.
She must have been out of her mind.
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