Read Online The Cornish Affair by Laura Lockington - Free Book Online

all my life and, and he’s too bloody young . What was this? Some sort of mayday madness?
    Jace looked puzzled at me laughing, and slowly shook his head. He handed me a plastic glass of wine, which I drank very quickly.
    Was it my imagination, or did his hand linger over mine when he handed it to me? I couldn’t tell.
    This had to stop.
    Perhaps spring had caught up with me, making me read things that weren’t there. After all, animals were pairing off, blooms were flowering, nature generally was making her beastly presence felt. Why should I be immune to it? But Jace ? No. I mean, yes, he was gorgeous , but not for me. If I had a romp in the sand after dark with Jace I would never be able to look him, or his mother, or sisters, or Nancy, or anyone from Port Charles in the eye ever again. Everyone would know, from Breadpudding to Doris the gossip would fly – and I know what they would think of me.
    Anyway, I might have got it wrong. It did, after all, seem impossible. I glanced sideways at Jace, who was uncorking wine with a slow, lazy grace. His hands were gentle with the bottles and unwillingly I found I was thinking about his hands smoothing my back, would they be as gentle then?… Good God! Stop it. Just stop it! Look upon him as a beautiful creature, something lovely to gaze at. Not to covet. OK, I can do that, can’t I?
    I re-filled my glass, and turned away to busy myself with the food. I felt, rather than heard Jace move behind me, and stood very still, a glass in one hand and a pair of tongs dangling a burger in the other.
    I could feel his breath on my neck now, and the warmth of his skin close to mine. He was pressing in, his body hard against my back. I jumped nervously away and heard him laugh behind me.
    I took a deep breath and turned to face him, “Jace, stop it,” I said.
    “Stop what?” he asked, smiling at me.
    “You know very well what,” I said sternly, hoping to convey an amused, yet insouciant tone of voice that covered up any lingering rather guilty excitement I might have felt.
    He shrugged, and carried on opening bottles of wine.
    Baxter was barking at a seagull that was playing a game of tag with him along the hard sand by the sea, and children were running wildly around. Doris waved at me and came over to set up her gorgeous trays of pasties, and the moment of nervous tension between Jace and me passed.
    Richard came along to help with the cooking, and I wandered off to say hello to everyone. The whole of Port Charles was on the beach, and there was a lot of chatter and gossip to catch up on.
    “’Ave you seen Breadpuddin’s pasties?”
    “More like ruddy great pies, if you ask me, I reckon it’s a damned cheek!”
    “Mornin’ Fin, I’ve got a vegetable what’s growin’ in me garden that I’ve never seen the likes of before, you wanna come and take a look?”
    “Jace says you’m got that bloke from off the telly comin’, I reckon you’ll be on TV next, a right star!”
    “Salmon looks a proper job, Fin, well done!”
    “’Ere Fin, come and try some of me elderflower wine from last year, proper tasty I reckon.”
    Every group of people had a kind word or two for me, and I wondered idly why it was that I felt so displaced. I had grown up with these people, but I wasn’t really one of them. I glanced over at Nancy who was joking with Sam from the pub, and longed for her easy way with people. The light was very bright, making everything seem slightly hard and unreal somehow, the sun made everything look harsh and flat. I put my sunglasses on and went to talk to Mrs Trevellyon who was sitting uncomfortably on a deck chair.
    Her poor arthritic hands were in a claw like position on her lap, and as I squatted down beside her, she patted me on my arm with one of them, the rings on her fingers cutting into her swollen flesh.
    “Fair remind me of your mother, you do, I thought it was her from a distance,” she said.
    Whenever this comment was made (and believe me, it wasn’t