Helen was shocked at the sharpness of his tone. ‘Simon was only having a bit of fun, Piran.’
This earned her a fierce scowl, too, then, muttering darkly under his breath, Piran pushed his chair back and stalked off to the bar to buy another drink.
‘Perhaps Prince Charming would be a better fit?’ Helen said to his retreating back.
‘I heard that Beauty and the Beast were casting.’ Penny gave her friend a wry smile.
At this point, Audrey Tipton, the village busybody – a woman Helen always thought of as the love-child of Margaret Thatcher and Mussolini – came striding into the pub, with her husband Geoffrey, otherwise known as Mr Audrey Tipton, trotting along in her wake. Spotting Simon, Audrey held up a finger to her husband, as if commanding a dog to stay, then made a beeline for their table while Geoffrey hovered timidly by the pub entrance.
‘Ah, Reverend Canter. I’m glad I found you.’
The sight of Audrey crossing The Dolphin’s threshold had everyone’s jaws dropping. She wouldn’t normally be seen dead in anything quite so vulgar as a public house.
Simon got to his feet uncertainly. ‘What can I do for you, Audrey? Would you and Geoff care for a drink?’
‘No, thank you, Reverend,’ she answered briskly. ‘I’ll make this as brief as possible. As you know, the Bridge Society Christmas luncheon was to have been held in the church hall tomorrow, but I’ve just been there and the hall is in a complete state of disarray. This really is quite unacceptable. If our annual luncheon suffers any disruption as a result, I shall hold you responsible.’
‘Now, Audrey,’ Simon’s tone was conciliatory, ‘you know that the panto has only just finished. I’m sure that Polly and all of the helpers are doing their best to get everything shipshape …’
‘Well, their best clearly isn’t good enough!’
‘Give them a chance, Audrey!’
Over Audrey’s shoulder, Helen caught sight of Piran returning from the bar. She was dismayed to see that the dangerous look in his eye had taken on new fire as Audrey Tipton delivered her rebuke. He and Audrey were old adversaries, their hostility mutual and frequently gladiatorial.
‘Audrey.’ Piran gave her a tight nod of the head.
‘Ah, Piran Ambrose. Pendruggan’s answer to Blackbeard!’ Audrey turned to Simon again. ‘Perhaps, Reverend, if you spent more time attending to church matters and less time frequenting drinking establishments with undesirables, this sort of problem wouldn’t occur.’
‘Now listen here—’ Penny was on her feet, ready to defend her husband, but before she could say more, Piran placed his pint of Cornish Knocker on the table and rounded on Audrey.
Sensing what was coming, Helen put her head in her hands. Of all the times for Audrey to go rattling the bars of his cage …
‘Now, Audrey, us undesirables don’t care much for what other people think,’ said Piran, his voice quiet but each word carefully enunciated and delivered with venom. ‘What’s more, we say what’s on our minds. So here’s what I’ve got to say to you, and you’re gonna listen. I’ve had just about enough of your complaining, your constant interfering and moaning. No one gives a toss about you and your bridge lot – a bunch of stuck-up fusspots, thinking you’re better than anyone else. Not one single person in this village likes you or wants to have anything to do with you. You’re nothing but a dried-up old fruit – even your husband probably can’t bear the sight of you, ’cept he’s too scared to say so. So why don’t you do us all a favour and take your bleddy whingeing and your bleddy whining and stick ’em right up that fat arse of yorn.’
The table sat in stunned silence as Piran’s words hit home. For a moment, Audrey’s mouth formed into a perfect O. She tried to speak but could only manage a strangled whimper, and Helen was horrified to see that there were tears in her eyes. As if hoping that they would leap to her defence, Audrey turned helplessly to the others at the table.
Simon was first on his feet. ‘Audrey, it isn’t true, we’re all so grateful to you for all the things you do …’
But Audrey stepped away from his outstretched hand. With great difficulty she found her voice. ‘Well. Good evening, Reverend. Thank you for your time.’
And with that, she walked slowly and with great dignity towards her husband. Geoffrey, who’d been too far away to hear the exchange, registered that something was wrong and hurried towards her with a concerned look on his face. Audrey merely shook her head in response to his questions and made for the door, head bowed. With one last questioning glance at their table, Geoffrey followed her out.
Aghast, the three friends turned as one to Piran.
‘How could you?’ Helen found it hard to believe that the man she loved could be so cruel.
‘You went too far there,’ agreed Penny. ‘Poor Audrey. I know she can be a complete pain, but she isn’t a bad person and she didn’t deserve that.’
Piran turned to Simon, waiting for him to add some rebuke, but he remained silent. The two men looked at each other for a moment and then Piran picked up his woollen hat and coat and walked out of the pub without another word.
‘I just don’t know what’s wrong with him lately,’ said Helen, as much to herself as anyone else. This wasn’t boding at all well for Christmas.
While Penny and Helen wondered aloud what could have caused Piran to snap that way, Simon sat in silence, staring at the door that had closed behind his friend, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Finally giving up on the doorbell, Helen stepped back for one last look at Piran’s cottage before returning to the car. She climbed into the driver’s seat, rummaged in her bag for her mobile and hit the speed-dial button for what seemed the hundredth time that morning. Piran wasn’t at home and had clearly turned his phone off. Once more she heard the familiar robotic voice: It has not been possible to connect your call …
She pressed the Call End button and silently cursed Piran Ambrose. He’d volunteered weeks ago to come over on Christmas Eve and help her prepare for their big feast tomorrow. It was going to be roast turkey with all the trimmings, and Piran had been the one who’d insisted that the preparations would have to be done in advance if the big day was to be a success. Helen was making a simple starter of smoked salmon with prawn and salmon roe, but there was stuffing to make (Piran would never countenance anything so ordinary as Paxo, though Helen was a bit partial to it herself), parsnips and potatoes to parboil, giblets to be boiled and turned into stock for gravy – for which Piran had some secret recipe – pigs in blankets to prepare, not to mention their little ritual of injecting the Christmas pudding with another syringe full of brandy. They would be lucky if they didn’t set the whole of Pendruggan ablaze when they lit the flame tomorrow, it was that potent.
It wasn’t the end of the world that Piran hadn’t shown up as arranged, but after last night’s rotten business with Audrey at the pub, Helen couldn’t help but feel anxious about him. She gazed up at his window and let out another sigh of frustration. Trust her to bag herself a mercurial so-and-so like Piran Ambrose! But no matter how she tried to pass it off as just Piran being moody as per usual, she couldn’t help feeling that this time there was more to it.
She pushed the thought away, reminding herself that Sean, Terri and Summer were back at Gull’s Cry waiting for her. She was determined to see to it that they had the best Christmas possible, regardless of Piran and his moods. He’d just have to pull himself together, and that was that.
No sooner had she put the key in the ignition than her phone rang. She felt a thrill of pleasure when the caller ID flashed and she saw it was her daughter Chloe.
‘Chloe,