wasn’t hugely looking forward to meeting the Christmas Day lunch gang again, she didn’t want Ellie to miss out on the chance of seeing Aaron, even if it was in a group. ‘Sure. I’ll drive if you like, Ellie.’
‘If you don’t mind.’
‘No problem.’
‘Great. Sorted.’ Aaron got up and Scarlett decided to make herself scarce while they said goodbye.
‘I ought to finish my unpacking. Nice to meet you, Aaron. See you tomorrow night.’ With a smile, she headed for the stairs, intent on leaving Ellie to see him off the premises. She caught a snatch of Aaron saying something she couldn’t quite make out and Ellie replying, ‘Oh, I promise to let you know if either of us need you.’
Scarlett closed her bedroom door to give them some privacy. Nevertheless, while she unpacked her clothes, she could still hear laughter and the rise and fall of animated voices for a few minutes until the front door shut again.
Ellie obviously had a tank-sized crush on the guy and Scarlett didn’t blame her. But even if her sister hadn’t fancied him, she wouldn’t have dreamed of going after Aaron. She had enough on her plate looking after her new customers, and trying to build up the business.
She had another moment of misgiving, wondering if she should have come to Seaholly at all. The vanishing postcard and arrival of Aaron had been a sobering wake-up call. She’d been so wrapped up in her own insecurities since last Christmas, it had blinded her to her family’s worries. She should have thought more carefully before landing on Ellie, but now she was here, she had to make the best of things while trying not to disrupt her sister’s life. Scarlett was sure that the clue to her heritage lay in Porthmellow and she could still look for her father without the postcard, though it was going to be a whole lot harder. It could have been thrown out, of course, or her mum might have moved it.
On the upside, perhaps some of the older locals who’d known Joan might remember her parents visiting – particularly her mother. The pub might be a great place to start her quest to find out more about her father.
The Tinners’ Arms was the newer of Porthmellow’s two pubs; new being only two hundred years old rather than four. The solid granite tavern, built for workers in the nearby mines, was situated on the opposite side of the harbour to the whitewashed Smuggler’s Tavern, the scene of Scarlett’s Christmas Day meltdown. Like its ‘rival’, it was one of the main social hubs of the town and even on a dark October evening, was surprisingly busy with locals.
‘Oh, look. The festival committee is in here. You can meet everyone all at once,’ Ellie said as they walked inside.
‘What?’ Scarlett followed Ellie’s gaze with a sinking feeling. The group of people squashed around tables by the fire turned their collective gaze on her and an unpleasant memory flooded back. ‘Oh my God, no. Aaron didn’t mention they’d all be in here. There’s loads of them.’
She tried to turn around, but Ellie was right behind her.
‘Don’t worry,’ she soothed, ushering Scarlett further into the dim interior. ‘It’s only Sam Lovell and her sister, Zennor, and her fiancé, Ben. They’re all lovely. So’s Drew, my boss, and his partner, Chloe.’
‘Oh, so not many people then!’ Scarlett whispered as they queued at the bar. ‘And you forgot the elf man!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That guy. The tall one with the surf-dude hair. He was in the pub when I rocked up on Christmas Day, along with Sam and Evie and her husband. They all were.’
Ellie gave their drinks order before replying. ‘So?’
‘So? Have you forgotten I was wearing a pair of bunny slippers and acting like a crazed escapee from a maximum-security institution? This is a terrible idea. The elf man covered me in his fleece … like a pensioner or a poorly hamster.’ Scarlett stifled a groan of shame.
Ellie glanced again at the elf man. ‘Oh, you must mean Jude Penberth? He’s not a surfer, as far as I know, but it’s just like him to help you out. He’s lovely, and as I’ve said before a dozen times, there’s no shame in having asked for help. They know you were very upset. They won’t judge you. Sam’s had problems of her own.’
‘Really? Like finding out her father isn’t her dad after all and running off to a bunch of strangers in her slippers?’
‘Much worse,’ Ellie said quietly. ‘Sam’s father left the family when she was little. Then her mother died, leaving Sam to look after Zen and her brother, Ryan. Ryan tried to rob some of the villagers and did a runner for over a decade. He’s back now, though, and if he can come home to Porthmellow, I’m sure you can. It’s not as if you did anything wrong.’
Scarlett looked at Sam and winced. ‘Well, I suppose if you put it like that … mind you, I feel even worse now for making such a fuss.’
‘It was a shock.’
Ellie’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my, Gabe Mathias is here too. We’re definitely not leaving.’
‘Gabe Mathias? What? The Gabe Mathias, the TV chef?’
‘Yes, he’s Sam’s partner.’
Scarlett saw a tall, tanned and very handsome man rejoin the group of committee members.
Ellie handed her a glass of Pinot Grigio. ‘Come on, you know you’d love to meet him. He’s a sweetheart, too.’
‘Everybody seems to be in this town.’ Scarlett sipped her wine sedately, determined to show she could be restrained around alcohol.
‘Er, not quite. But this bunch are all right. All you need to do is smile and say hello. Everyone knows you’re sane normally.’
Scarlett almost choked on her wine. ‘Thanks!’
Despite her misgivings, she decided that she’d better get the introductions over with. Fixing a smile on her face, she followed Ellie. This was going to be like taking a plunge into an unheated pool and Scarlett decided it was best to dive straight in, live with the pain and get used to it. It was better than bumping into each person individually over the next few weeks and having to go through the whole excruciating, ‘Yes, it was me,’ ‘Yes, I’m fine now,’ ‘Thanks for being so kind,’ over and over again. More importantly, if she wanted to have a chance of discovering some clues to her biological father’s identity, she was going to have to bite the bullet and swallow her pride.
The gang around the table was an eclectic mix. Sitting next to Troy and Evie Carman were Ben and Zennor, a gawky young couple in goth make-up, matching purple hair and biker leathers who were intertwined like vines. You couldn’t slot a beer mat between the festival chairperson Sam Lovell and Gabriel Mathias, whose arm was draped around her shoulder. At the end of the booth, Scarlett recognised a ponytailed older guy as Drew, Ellie’s boss from the sailing trust, and his partner, Chloe, whom Ellie had said was a London events organiser. Apparently, she was over fifty, but Scarlett thought she looked at least ten years younger.
Then there was the elf man, perched on a barstool, minus his hat
