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Kate hung up, took a few deep, calming breaths and made her way inside. She was seriously doubting the wisdom of opening her home to strangers.Teething problems, she told herself, copying out Bob’s list of eateries onto a piece of paper, before searching for another two towels among the clean laundry. Mark was standing at the kitchenette, making two cups of tea. He gave Kate a shy smile and when she offered him the towels and list, suggested he pass them directly to ‘the boss’. Kate assumed he meant Sarah, who, when she entered the bedroom, was sprawled out on the bed, book in hand.
“Oh, thanks, that’s great.”
“No problem. Anything else you need?”
“No, I think that’s all for now. I’ll send Mark down again if there’s anything else that crops up.”
I bet you will, thought Kate, marvelling at the dynamics of some relationships. She pitied poor Mark, being bossed around like a skivvy. Worse than the pity though, was recognition. She’d never been like him, had she?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MARK PLACED THEsteaming cup of coffee down on the table beside his fiancée.
“Well, that was a poor night’s sleep,” said Sarah, taking a sip of her coffee. She promptly spat it out over Kate’s new M&S bedding. “For goodness' sake, Mark you could’ve told me it was that hot. I’ve only gone and burned my mouth. Can you fetch me a water please?”
“Sure, have some of mine.”
“No thanks, fresh please,” said Sarah, handing him her glass. Mark got up once more and filled her cup from the tap in the bathroom.
“You did run it till it was properly cold, didn’t you? I hate it when it’s luke warm.”
“Thanks, Mark,” Mark muttered under his breath.
“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”
“I said yes, dear, I ran the tap till it was cold.”
“Good.”
“How come you didn’t sleep too well?”
“It’s this bed,” said Sarah, staring at him open-mouthed as if the answer was obvious. “Didn’t you notice how hard the mattress is?”
“I thought it was very comfortable.” Mark hadn’t slept well either, but it was nothing to do with the mattress. Sarah had been snoring like a rhinoceros most of the night, whatever claims she made about insomnia.
“I don’t get this modern obsession with mattresses like rocks. I’ve never slept as well as I did when I lived with Mum. She knows a good mattress when she sees one.”
Mark thought of his soon to be mother-in-law’s house, all frilly curtains and squishy beds. The heating was on all year and the coffin sized bed he was made to sleep in gave him a bad back every time. Sarah was still talking, and Mark tuned back in time to hear the wordsbad review.
“You’re not going to leave her a bad review, are you? What about all the extras; coffee, soaps? She went to a lot of trouble to recommend where to eat and find the extra towels. I’d say she deserves five stars.”
Sarah wasn’t pleased he’d offered an opinion, and Mark tuned out as she listed all the reasons why a three star review would be generous. He resolved to leave the review himself before Sarah got the chance. The thought of the small defiance made him smile, and his thin chest puffed out a little.
“What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing, dear.” Mark realised his jaw was so tight it was beginning to hurt. Had he been grinding his teeth again in the night? He wished they’d not fallen into the habit of calling each otherdear. It reminded him of his grandparents. “I wondered if you’d like to visit Bodmin Jail today? I’ve read some reviews. It sounds great.”
“You leave the activities to me, dear. You know what you’re like. Remember Ibiza?”
Not this again, thought Mark, his jaw clenching up once more. Ibiza was their first trip away together, to the quiet side of the island, obviously. He’d tried to take the initiative and booked a wine tasting event, only it had turned out to be more of an eighteen to thirties pub crawl and he’d never been allowed to forget his mistake.
“We’ll go on a bike ride today, take a little ride along the trail they’ve made from the old railway line. Then a pub lunch, a wander round the town, then catch the train down to St Ives at five.”
“We don’t have our bikes, though.”
Sarah sighed in ado I have to think of everythingsort of way. “We’ll hire them, obvs. Shouldn’t cost much for a couple of hours.” She grabbed a handful of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom to dress in privacy. Mark couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like he’d not seen her naked before. Mind you, those occasions were few and far between, his mind trawling back through the previous four months before he settled on a memory of sex.
It had been Sarah’s idea to come to Cornwall, and Sarah’s idea to stop off in Bodmin.Break the journey,she’d said, though Mark would have been happy to head straight down west. If he were honest, he’d have preferred the Lake District, but that idea had been poo-pooed, just like all his others. Before heading off on their holidays, he’d been made to endure Sunday lunch with Sarah’s parents. He tried his best with Frank, Sarah’s dad, but the poor bloke was a shell of a man, flinching every time his wife Margaret barked orders at him. He could barely hold a conversation and seemed to have no interest in anything other than pleasing his wife. ‘Happy wife, happy life’, he’d muttered as he got up on an errand for the hundredth time in the two hours they were there.
