Summer at the Cornish Cafe. Phillipa Ashley

to survive.

      With a kick on Dexter’s flanks, I urge him to a gallop along the coastal path. If I ride until the land ends, maybe I can ride Isla out of my system.

      At the milestone, I spot a dark hunter galloping over the moor towards me. I’d know Robyn’s horse anywhere, and the rider’s style. I urge Dexter on and our horses both meet by a ruined engine house.

      Both of us are breathless and laughing. ‘Hi, Robyn,’ I say when I’ve got my breath back. ‘I could tell it was you from miles away.’

      She pushes a lock of purply black hair back under her helmet. Her face is pink with the sea air and the effort. ‘Have I improved?’ she asks.

      ‘You’ve got worse, if anything.’

      She leans over her horse and hits my arm. ‘That’s harsh and anyway I can tell you’re way out of practice … ouch, sorry, great big foot in even bigger mouth.’

      ‘There’s no need to tiptoe around it.’

      ‘I know but it must have been tough helping people out there and then you come back and found out about Luke and Isla. They’d only just told us.’

      So Robyn notices more than she lets on. ‘It’s fine. Well, not fine …’ It’s hopeless lying to my cousin; she knows me too well. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to turn up like that though I did try to warn Isla. I’m sorry I shocked you and Uncle Rory though by crashing his birthday do.’ I pat Dexter’s silky mane, avoiding Robyn’s eyes. ‘How was Isla after I’d left the party?’

      ‘What do you think? Relieved you’re home safe. She was out of her mind with worry when we hadn’t heard from you for a while.’

      ‘Yeah. It looked like it. I had her engagement party invitation this morning.’

      ‘Oh Cal. Don’t be like that. Isla was gutted, she couldn’t eat or sleep properly for the weeks after you left, and when you never replied to our latest emails …’

      A lump sticks in my throat. Does hearing that Isla suffered make me feel better or worse? Is it real love, wanting her to have suffered?

      ‘She seems to have got over it.’

      ‘She even emailed the charity but they said you were working in a remote location and couldn’t be contacted. Luke was worried as well.’

      ‘I’ll bet he was.’

      ‘This must be so hard for you.’ Choosing to ignore my sarcasm, which is probably a good thing for both of us, Robyn stops the horse, reaches over and touches me. Her fingers linger on my forearm, soothing, gentle. Once this act of kindness would have touched me deeply but that was before I learned that the only way to survive is to kill every feeling and become stone. I can’t answer her, and she takes her hand away from mine.

      ‘Are you sure you’re OK? You look so thin. Did something terrible happen to you out there?’

      I pause, weighing up how much I can tell her and how much of that can be the truth. ‘I’m fine. I was just wrapped up in helping people.’

      ‘Oh Cal, I can’t even imagine how awful it was.’

      ‘Then don’t. Thousands of people have died or lost their families and homes in the wars. I’m here in one piece and I have all this.’ I scrape up a smile and wave in the direction of the tumbledown cottages. ‘Now, for God’s sake, tell me how you are and what you’ve been doing. I’ve a lot of catching up to do.’

      While we walked the horses along the cliffs, she fills me in on her latest escapades. It’s comforting listening to her chatter about her jewellery design course and the fact she’s working part time in the Tinner’s to annoy Uncle Rory and earn some money of her own. She’s twenty-two now, and she ought to have her independence but she’s drifted from one thing to another since she left uni and I think it suits my uncle to keep her at home. She deserves a break: stability, love, excitement and happiness – whatever it is she’s looking for.

      We urge the horses over the stream and onto the sand of Kilhallon Cove. At high tide, the beach is a sliver of pebbles but at low tide, like now, it’s a long strip of flat sand. The tang of seaweed and salt hangs in the air, reminding me of the times I rode here and made love to Isla.

      Clouds gather over the sea but the weather front is on its way north of us. It’s going to be a bright day and the longer hours of sunlight have brought out the primroses in the hedgerows around the park. I’d forgotten how seductive this place could be, even in the state it is now. ‘It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it?’ Robyn says.

      ‘Yes. I was going to ride over to Bosinney.’

      ‘To see me?’ Robyn says, mischievously.

      ‘Of course, and my uncle.’

      ‘He and Luke are back in the office in Truro today. Were you coming to see Isla too? She’s visiting Bosinney; she’s thinking of using it in her new series.’

      ‘Is she?’

      Robyn isn’t stupid; the opposite, in fact, and I feel ashamed.

      ‘Dad can do with the money even though he doesn’t want the disruption. Isla’s asked her director of photography to come down and take a look. She’s meant to be on holiday but I think she’ll spend most of the time scouting locations.’

      ‘I read about her success in the paper on my way here.’ I don’t add that I’ve since wasted way too much time googling Isla on the new laptop.

      ‘She’s amazing. Did you know one of her productions was nominated for a BAFTA? She’s a joint director of her own production company now.’

      ‘I bet her mother and Luke love that.’

      ‘Isla’s mother can’t talk of anything else but Luke’s more interested in making money these days since he became a director of Dad’s company. They’re playing the stock market, and making some high-risk investments – you see, they offer business and financial planning to the clients now, as well as doing the books.’

      ‘Luke didn’t used to be so money-oriented. Are things OK with the business?’

      Robyn pulls a face. ‘I don’t know but I worry about them both. Luke’s young and I suppose he can take a few hits but Dad isn’t getting any younger. He had treatment for an ulcer last year and stress isn’t good for him, even though he’s on the mend. I’m not sure he really knows what Luke gets up to, but they’ve become like father and son since Luke’s dad died last year. I think my dad feels he owes it to Luke’s father’s memory to support him.’

      ‘I’m sorry Uncle Rory’s been ill. Do you mind Luke getting so close to him?’

      Robyn reins in the horse and shrugs. ‘It wouldn’t make any difference if I did. I’ve grown up with Luke, just like you have, and I suppose he was already like a brother to me, just like you are, Cal.’

      Her comment makes me feel emotional. Did I say I had no capacity for feeling left? I must be going soft again. ‘How does Isla feel about all this?’ I ask.

      ‘I’m not sure how much time she has to get involved. Her work normally takes her away from Luke and Cornwall a lot.’

      ‘Funny. She used to hate it when I went away.’

      ‘I guess she had to get used to it when she started running her own company and you were off the scene.’ Robyn sighs and stares out to sea. ‘That was harsh. I’m so sorry, Cal. I wish I could turn back the clock.’

      ‘Not harsh. True and no one can turn back time.’

      We ride up the path and walk the horses past an old engine house back towards Kilhallon. Crows caw and wheel around the broken chimney stack. There’s probably a bird of prey around somewhere, judging by the noise they’re making.

      ‘Polly told me you’ve taken on some new staff,’ she says