CHAPTER ELEVEN

JARVIS

No matter that the sky was grey and the cloud heavy over the water, Jarvis liked the routine of being back on dry land, liked to wander the familiar paths of Port Charles. Yes, he loved his job on the boat with Ben and Robin, loved the banter, but there were things he missed when he was at sea. He picked up the newspaper from the stand outside Everit’s corner shop and went inside to hand the coins to Mrs Everit herself.

‘You heard the sad news this morning, Jarvis?’

‘No?’ He held his breath. In a small place like this you most likely knew the family who bad things had befallen, but similarly he knew Mrs Everit had a tendency to gossip and so her interpretation of ‘bad’ or ‘sad news’ might be that the milk van was running late or the broadband was playing up.

‘Old Guthrie Mortimer died. Very suddenly, apparently. In his sleep. Most unexpected.’

He nodded and breathed out, feeling a flicker of empathy for Digby, knowing what it was like to lose your dad from your life. ‘But not that unexpected, really, Mrs Everit. He was getting on and I think I’ve seen him drunk more than I’ve seen him sober.’

‘Not that we shall speak ill of the dead.’ She fixed him with a hard stare that left him admonished.

‘’Course not. You have a nice day.’

He folded the paper under his arm and made his way down Fore Street towards Kellow Cottages, deciding not to mention it to Ruby. He didn’t want to take the shine off their plans. The two had agreed to head up to St Austell for a spot of shopping and then grab a pasty in Mevagissey on the way home. He wasn’t too chuffed at the prospect of shopping, but liked that she chose to spend her day off with him. Truth was, he liked her full stop. And on his latest fishing trip he had thought of her more often than not, missing her friendship, her humour, her warmth.

The roaring fire of passion and desire he had felt for Merrin was now no more than the smallest glow of an ember, but as long as it was there at all it was hard to see Merrin’s sister as anything other than a good mate. So what that he and Ruby had kissed once up at Reunion Point? A good kiss, actually, a surprisingly good kiss, but one fuelled by cider and so surely it didn’t really count. Scouring the headlines as he walked in the cold morning air, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of Ruby on the harbour wall, deep in conversation with Bella.

He combed his unruly hair with his fingers, as Ruby turned and called to him.

‘Jarv!’