The Golden Oldies Guesthouse (ARC) Read online

  At five o’clock he was back outside the Tregallen Hotel again. It had begun to rain and when Gideon emerged he made a dash for the car and leaped into the passenger seat, brushing against Dominic’s arm as he did so and causing him ripples of pleasure.

  ‘What did you learn today?’ Dominic asked as he switched on the ignition.

  ‘Oh, all about Chilean wines, and this afternoon we made piña coladas, and mine was the best!’

  ‘Congratulations!’ Dominic resisted the temptation to pat his knee.

  ‘I’ve been buying the ingredients, see?’ Gideon indicated his bag. ‘I could make you one tonight.’

  ‘That would be lovely, but I usually just have a brandy or something for a nightcap after dinner.’

  ‘So why don’t you come before dinner?’

  Dominic’s heart was lurching all over the place again. ‘I could, I suppose,’ he said, ‘but it’s just that I’ve got into the habit of having a pre-dinner vodka tonic at the Sparrows’.’

  ‘I could do you vodka tonics,’ Gideon said.

  ‘Shall I come before dinner then?’

  ‘Why not?’

  * * *

  ‘I’m giving Gideon a lift back from his cocktail-making course each evening,’ Dominic explained to Simon, ‘and he’s keen to show me his expertise. I hope you wouldn’t mind if I had my aperitif down there tonight?’

  ‘Of course we wouldn’t mind!’ Simon said, patting his shoulder. ‘You go and enjoy Gideon’s cocktails.’

  Dominic was always fastidious about his appearance but spent even more time than usual on it this evening. Did it mean what he hoped it meant, Gideon asking him down like that?

  The pub was already filling up when Dominic arrived just after half past six, and he had to grab his usual stool at the bar when he saw two large ladies with rucksacks heading towards it. There was no sign of Gideon.

  ‘Nice to see you down ’ere early,’ said Jed. ‘Wot can I get you?’

  ‘Well,’ said Dominic, ‘Gideon has threatened to make me one of his cocktails so I’ll wait until he comes.’

  ‘Rather you than me,’ Jed said with a grin, before turning to serve the two large ladies.

  And then Gideon appeared. Gideon, who was normally clad in T-shirts and blue jeans, was tonight wearing knee-length white shorts and a navy blue short-sleeved shirt. He’d also combed his dark hair, complete with a dead straight parting. He was carrying the cocktail shaker he’d presumably bought in Bodmin.

  ‘Would you like a drink, Dominic?’ asked this new super-trendy Gideon.

  Dominic’s mouth had gone dry. He ran his tongue along his teeth. ‘I’ll have a piña colada, please.’

  ‘Sure you wouldn’t prefer your vodka?’

  Dominic definitely would have preferred his vodka. ‘No, I’ll have a piña colada please, Gideon.’

  ‘Bloody ’ell,’ said Jed as he caught sight of his son. ‘Why’re you all done up like a dog’s dinner?’

  Gideon ignored him, and continued pouring the ingredients into the shaker. ‘Got to look the part if you’re making cocktails,’ he said, winking at Dominic.

  Dominic’s insides were in turmoil. Gideon had never winked at him before. Surely this meant the feeling was mutual? There was silence in the bar as Gideon began to rattle the cocktail shaker with great style and, when he finally poured the creamy, frothy mixture into a glass which he presented with a flourish to Dominic, there was a round of applause. Dominic knew he was blushing furiously, but could do nothing about it. ‘Thank you,’ he said, not daring to meet Gideon’s eye, and took a tentative sip. It was far too sweet for his taste.

  ‘Delicious!’ he proclaimed to one and all, then finally looking Gideon in the eye. ‘I feel transported to a Caribbean island, under a palm tree, on the beach.’

  ‘Can I come, too?’ asked Gideon, smiling at him. There was a definite twinkle in his eye.

  ‘Most definitely,’ Dominic replied.

  And he knew.

  30

  ORLA’S BULL’S EYE

  ‘This,’ said Tess, later that evening, ‘is my friend, Orla, who’s here for a few days and she’ll be joining you for dinner.’

  Dominic folded his newspaper, stood up and shook Orla’s hand. ‘I’m Dominic, delighted to meet you,’ he said.

  Celia nodded politely. ‘I’m Miss Wi… er, Celia.’

  Jackie, bright pink with the sun, said, ‘And I’m Jackie. I expect you’ve heard all about me!’

  ‘No,’ Orla lied blithely. ‘I know nothing about anyone, but I’m all ears.’

  ‘You’re Irish!’ Jackie exclaimed. ‘I love that accent!’

  Dominic cleared his throat. ‘I’m trying to write a book, and the scenery and the ambience here is very inspiring. I took a little time to get started but it’s flowing quite well now.’

  ‘And what’s your book about, Dominic?’ Orla asked.

  ‘Oh, smuggling, shipwrecks, that sort of thing. Don’t suppose that’s your choice of reading?’

  ‘Well, I did read all the Poldark novels years ago and should think this is just the place to dream up a good smuggle,’ said Orla. She turned to Celia. ‘Now, I’m seeing you as someone who’s interested in rocks and stones, or archaeology perhaps?’

  Tess saw Celia look at her in astonishment. ‘I have no interest in rocks, stones or archaeology,’ she said tersely. ‘I’m here on a painting holiday.’

  ‘Oh really? I’d love to see some of your work,’ said Orla.

  ‘She does lovely seascapes,’ Jackie piped up. ‘You’re doing one for me, aren’t you, Celia?’

  Celia gave a brief nod but didn’t expand on the subject.

  ‘Isn’t that kind of you now?’ Orla said. ‘Have you been painting long?’

  ‘Only since retirement.’

  ‘You should be joining one of the local artists’ groups, Celia. There must be loads of them in Cornwall; the place is swarming with arty-crafty looking folk and you’d meet like-minded people.’

  ‘I don’t wish to join any groups,’ Celia said firmly, sipping her orange juice.

  ‘Oh well, never mind.’ Orla met Tess’s eye for a brief moment.

  ‘I’m not doing anything creative,’ Jackie said, ‘I’m just enjoying doing nothing after years and years of being involved in the manufacture of ladies’ knickers and things; the kind that pulls you in, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘Oh, I do indeed!’ Orla turned to Tess. ‘Tess and I know all about women holding themselves in, don’t we, Tess? We used to have a boutique specialising in outfits for large ladies. She’s a very talented lady, is Tess. Any time you want an outfit that’ll knock pounds off you—’

  ‘That’s in the past,’ Tess interrupted, ‘all I make these days is curtains. Now, dinner’s ready so do please come through to the dining room.’

  As they sat down Celia stared at the bowl placed in front of her and asked, ‘What’s this?’

  ‘It’s vichyssoise,’ Tess explained, ‘which is basically chilled potato and leek soup.’

  ‘I’ve never had cold potato soup before,’ Celia said, continuing to look suspiciously at her bowl.

  ‘It’s delicious!’ proclaimed Dominic.

  Celia took a mouthful. ‘Hmm,’ she said, but then she took another spoonful, and another.

  Tess retreated into the kitchen where Simon was removing sea bass from the oven.

  ‘Looks good, doesn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, it does,’ agreed Tess. She sighed. ‘I’m wondering how wise it was to let Orla loose with the guests; you know how outspoken she can be. And heaven help us when she meets Titania!’

  Titania appeared just as Tess was clearing all the empty soup bowls away. This evening Titania was wearing a black chiffon tunic adorned with sequins, pink silk trousers and jewelled sandals, all set off with glittery earrings which dangled to her shoulders. She’d obviously been colouring her hair because the white roots had gone and it was now a uniform dark magenta.

  ‘I won’t ha
ve a starter, thank you,’ she said to Tess as she pulled out her chair and then, as she spotted Orla, said, ‘And who are you?’

  ‘I’m Orla, a friend of Tess’s, and you must be Titania Terry! How wonderful to meet you at last! I’ve been so interested in your acting career!’ She made it sound as if this was the fulfilment of a lifetime’s ambition.

  Titania visibly brightened, straightened up and said, ‘How very sweet of you!’

  She held her hand out to Orla, who, shaking it, said, ‘And here you are, as glamorous as ever!’

  Tess groaned inwardly. Orla was overdoing it to the point of farce.

  But Titania was loving it. ‘I just adore your charming Irish friend!’ she said to Tess. ‘We’re going to have such lovely chats.’

  * * *

  Tess looked out of the windows from time to time to see Titania holding court out on the terrace, with Orla listening intently and Jackie pretending to read a magazine. Dominic had made his evening pilgrimage to the pub and Celia had retired to her room.

  It was ten o’clock before they disbanded. Simon was watching television in the bedroom and Tess was emptying the dishwasher when Orla swanned into the kitchen.

  ‘God, Orla, you’ve been out there for over an hour. Is she so very intriguing then, Titania Terry?’

  Orla shook her head. ‘No, but she had a few fascinating tales to tell and once she gets going there’s no stopping her. And what an interesting bunch your guests are!’

  ‘Well, I gave you the lowdown on all of them,’ Tess said. ‘Have you discovered anything new?’

  ‘Titania is now my friend for life, because I don’t think anyone’s bothered to listen to the poor old girl for years, so she was making up for it tonight. I can’t tell you how much she hates that Clarice What’s-Her-Name – the one who stole her precious Henry. And I remember reading somewhere that Clarice lives down here in Cornwall so I have a hunch that that’s why Titania is here. That woman is an urbanite; she’s not interested in the sea and the scenery and all that stuff. But she is interested in your dear husband! It’s Simon this and Simon that!’

  ‘So what would be the reason for her visit, then?’

  ‘Could be perhaps to visit Clarice? To tell her what she thinks of her? Or maybe to visit Henry’s grave? Would he be buried down here?’

  ‘No idea,’ said Tess.

  ‘I’d put money on the fact she’s got something in mind because she was deliberately vague when I asked her why she was here. I think Simon’s right about Dominic because he had a real gleam in his eye when he said he was going to the pub. Then there’s Jackie, who’s not got a lot between her ears but she’s nice enough and, you’ll be interested to know, she is not going back to that husband of hers, but is going to take him for every penny they made out of all that knicker elastic.’

  ‘You have been busy,’ Tess said drily, ‘but you haven’t mentioned Celia.’

  ‘Ah now, Celia’s the real dark horse! She doesn’t tell you a bloody thing but there’s a lot more to Celia than meets the eye. She’s going to surprise you.’

  ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘She may look as dull as ditchwater, and she sure doesn’t want to stand out. Yet she’s got that stylish car and everything, so it doesn’t add up at all.’

  ‘Well, they’re all here for a little longer, so I’ll keep you informed,’ Tess said.

  * * *

  Orla stayed for five days during which time she took Tess to the cinema in Wadebridge and insisted on holding the fort for a day while Tess and Simon escaped to Padstow to lunch at Rick Stein’s. On the second last night of Orla’s stay they decided to pay a visit to The Portmerryn Arms, only to find the pub crowded due to the annual darts competition between Portmerryn and a neighbouring village, Polcarrow.

  ‘Shall we go home?’ Simon asked as they pushed their way through the crowd in an attempt to find a table.

  ‘No, no, I like a busy pub,’ said Orla, ‘and there’s two people leaving over there – quick!’

  They grabbed the newly vacated seats and, while Simon went to order drinks, Orla said, ‘Look, there’s Dominic sitting at the bar.’

  ‘Yes, he’s here most nights,’ Tess said.

  ‘I think Simon’s right, he has got the hots for Gideon,’ Orla said, ‘and do you know what? Gideon likes it!’

  ‘For God’s sake, Orla, you’ve only been in here five minutes – you and your overactive imagination!’

  ‘I’m telling you, Gideon is responding, even if he doesn’t know it!’

  Then again, Tess thought, Gideon is in his forties and, from what she’d gathered, never had a steady girlfriend.

  ‘So, you must let me know if Dominic manages to seduce him,’ Orla went on. ‘My word, you do have a funny old crowd under your roof! Don’t know about it being a sparrows’ nest, a hornets’ nest more like!’

  The darts players were preparing to pair up: one man, one woman, the names to be drawn out of two beer mugs. There was a rush to the bar to stock up with drinks before the draw. Both Jed and Gideon were working flat out.

  As the names were drawn out of the ladies’ mug and paired with the next one drawn from the men’s mug, there was much raucous laughter at the couplings. Then, as they got to the last pair, one man declared loudly, ‘Where’s my partner, then?’

  ‘We must be a lady short,’ said the man in charge of the draw. He looked round at everyone. ‘Reckon one of our ladies hasn’t shown up.’ There followed a general discussion as to who hadn’t shown up. Then the partnerless man looked around and called out, ‘I need a lady! Any lady here care to partner me?’

  There was a lull in the conversation for a moment before Orla stood up. ‘I will!’ she shouted. There was a resounding cheer.

  ‘God, Orla, I didn’t know you could play darts,’ Tess said.

  ‘It’s been a while,’ Orla admitted. ‘But isn’t he a looker!’

  A looker! Tess studied the man now advancing towards Orla, hand outstretched. He was probably in his sixties, tall, dark-eyed, a good thatch of close-cut greying hair, and a friendly smile.

  ‘Danny Cobbledick,’ he said.

  ‘Orla Regan,’ she said.

  And then Orla was swallowed up in the crowd as they prepared to begin the competition.

  ‘I didn’t know Orla played darts,’ Simon said, sipping his beer.

  ‘Neither did I,’ said Tess, ‘and I only hope she doesn’t make an idiot of herself. I think the man was the main attraction, so I only hope she manages to hit the dartboard occasionally.’

  It was when the competition reached the final stages that Tess and Simon stood up to watch. Orla was excelling herself and her partner was beaming. How, Tess wondered, had she ever learned to play so well?

  There was more cheering as the scorer chalked up the figures. And, lo and behold, Orla Regan and Danny Cobbledick were the winners and duly presented with the £100 prize money! More cheering.

  Orla pushed her way back through the crowd with her new friend in tow.

  ‘This is Danny. Danny, meet Tess and Simon.’

  They shook hands and Tess could see why Orla might find him attractive after years of Ricky, who was short, chunky and balding. This Danny was tall, slim and had these very attractive dark brown eyes.

  ‘Where on earth did you learn to play darts like that, Orla?’ Simon asked.

  ‘Ah, my misspent youth!’ said Orla. Then, turning to Danny, she asked, ‘Did we really win a hundred quid?’

  ‘Yes,’ Danny replied. ‘There were twenty of us, and everyone put in a fiver.’

  ‘But I didn’t put in a fiver,’ Orla said.

  Danny winked. ‘I put your fiver in,’ he said.

  Orla beamed, plainly very pleased with her partner.

  ‘So at least we can buy you folks a drink,’ Danny said, just as Tess was about to say, ‘Well, we really should be going now.’

  ‘That would be great,’ said Orla.

  So, over two pints and two gin and tonics, they discovered
that Danny Cobbledick was a retired farmer from Polcarrow, a village about five miles away. He was a widower, one of his sons had taken over the farm, and he was in the process of converting a barn for himself. Immediately Tess could see that Orla was smitten.

  ‘Now,’ said Danny as he drained his pint, ‘I’m going to have to leave you because we all hired a minibus to get us here and I can see everyone’s preparing to go. As regards our winnings, Orla, how about we go out to dinner one night?’

  Orla’s eyes were shining. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘but I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘We’d better make it tomorrow night, then,’ he said.

  * * *

  The final day of Orla’s visit she spent in a state of high excitement. Should she wear this, or that? Why hadn’t she brought a nice dress with her?

  ‘Because you weren’t planning on snaring a local farmer,’ Tess said.

  Orla sniffed. ‘I’ve no plans to snare him, and anyway I’m going home tomorrow.’

  ‘Windsor Castle is at your disposal any time you want to visit,’ Tess said, ‘if you can cope with sleeping out there.’

  ‘Oh, I can cope fine.’ She stared into space for a moment. ‘But I don’t suppose I’ll ever see him again after tonight. And anyway it’s too late to cancel my train booking now.’

  ‘What about poor old Ricky?’

  Orla sighed dramatically. ‘He’s away half the time, Tess. And, to be honest, the relationship’s becoming a bit dreary. It’s not like I’ve ever wanted to marry him or anything.’

  ‘Well, I can’t imagine you would consider marrying a Cornish farmer either. Get real, Orla!’

  Orla said nothing but continued to fuss around. Did her hair need trimming? Should she wear the green eyeshadow? Or the blue? On and on it went until Tess was relieved to see her disappear out of the door when the divine Danny arrived, in a muddy BMW, at seven o’clock.