Magic in the Mist: A Polwenna Bay short story Read online

  Her sister was seriously suggesting she hung out in the graveyard like some kind of Goth weirdo freak?

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Chloe said.

  “No, I’m trying to help! It’s not just you who’s had your half term wrecked,” Tess’s exploded. “I had plans too, you know, but I promised the olds I’d help you catch up your coursework - which I’m doing my very best to do incidentally – but you won’t even meet me half way! Do you know what, Chloe? It’s up to you. Fail again if you want. It’s your choice and your future.” She leapt up from her seat, exercise books avalanching to the floor, and snatched her coat from the peg.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the pub,” said Tess. “I’ve worked solidly all morning grading Key Stage Two assessments and I can’t bear to hear another minute of your moaning. I need a drink.”

  Her sister slammed out of the cottage leaving Chloe stunned. Great. Now even Tess had given up on her. This trip to Polwenna Bay was ruining her life. She had to get out of the tiny cottage and clear her head before she went mad.

  The rain had finally stopped so Chloe pulled on her spotty wellies and raincoat, borrowed Tess’s red cashmere scarf and escaped into the soggy afternoon. For a while she traipsed through the village, peering into dusty shop windows before diving into Magic Moon, Polwenna Bay’s psychic shop which was filled with the cloying scent of patchouli oil and the hypnotic strains of New Age music. Chloe wasn’t convinced she believed in any of the nonsense that the owner, Silver Starr, peddled but rooting through the crystals and angel cards in the shop was something to kill ten minutes.

  “Can I help you?”

  Silver Starr, dressed in a flowing purple robe and with her long white hair scooped up with a daisy chain head band, smiled at Chloe over the essential oils.

  “Nobody can help me,” Chloe said before she could stop herself. Opps. Whatever made her come out with that to a virtual stranger? Maybe it was something in the incense?

  Silver Starr looked very sad to hear this. “I don’t think that’s true. I like to think that we are all souls travelling together on life’s journey and linked by the Universe. We are all one and we are here to help each other.”

  Chloe stared at her. She what?

  “After all, you’ve come in here today and that’s not an accident,” Silver continued. “Something drew you in.”

  Yes, crap weather and no Top Shop, thought Chloe, but the shopkeeper was so earnest that she didn’t have the heart to disillusion her.

  “Maybe,” she shrugged.

  “So what’s troubling you? Perhaps I can help? Amethyst is a soothing crystal and I have some wonderful Ylang Ylang bath oil? Or perhaps a tarot reading would help? My guides are very good at solving all kinds of problems.”

  Unless Silver Starr’s guides were any good at writing essays or there was enough Ylang Ylang oil to drown herself in, Chloe didn’t hold out much hope. Not wanting to risk any foretellings of a future she could imagine only too well – her predicted grades already being quite enough of an insight, thanks very much – Chloe decided honesty was the best policy.

  “I’m stuck on my English A Level course work,” she said. “I have to write a piece about lost love haunting a present day narrator and I’ve never been in love and I haven’t a clue where to start, especially here. There’s no love or magic or mystery in Polwenna Bay - just rain and empty streets!”

  Silver nodded understandingly. “Ah, you need some inspiration. I know! How about some Clary Sage oil? It’s wonderful for writer’s block. I sell loads to Caspar Owen, our local author.”

  Chloe had met Caspar Owen in the local pub. He’d been rolling drunk so she imagined he probably drank the oil rather than inhaled it. Chloe smiled politely anyway and allowed Silver to sell her a small bottle.

  “Love, however, is something harder far to find,” the psychic said slowly, “but as for magic and mystery? I believe Polwenna Bay is full of those things. All you need to do is believe in them. Throw this Rhodocrosite into the sea for the goddess and make a wish. You might be surprised at what happens next because it’s a very special crystal and brings all kinds of blessings.”

  What a nutter, thought Chloe. But not wanting to offend Silver, who clearly meant well, she popped the small pink rock into her pocket anyway. Then, Clary Sage oil paid for and also tucked away, she trudged along Fore Street, over Norman Bridge and down onto the deserted beach.

  Cornwall in the winter was bleak and cold, not magical and mysterious at all. Seagulls screeched high above in the steel coloured sky and waves hissed up the sand, sucking at the line of seaweed thrown there by the angry tide. Chloe beach combed for a while and tried her best to dredge up a storyline for her assignment but inspiration still failed to strike. She glanced across at the pub, the windows bright and warm with light while plumes of smoke drifted from the chimney, and contemplated going in to find Tess before deciding this wasn’t a good idea. Judging by the way her sister had stomped out of the house, Tess needed a break.

  Chloe glanced at her watch. She’d only passed half an hour hour. Now what? If only there was a mall nearby or a cinema. How on earth did anyone bear living here? Maybe she’d do what her sister had suggested and look at the scenery for inspiration? The cliffs could be a good starting point. Poldark featured a lot of cliff top scenes and everybody loved that show, although Chloe suspected this had more to do with Aiden Turner’s naked chest rather than the Cornish seaside. Maybe she could set her piece up here and write Aiden in? Or was that plagiarism?

  First of all she ought to chuck the pretty pink stone into the sea and make a wish. It was all nonsense of course but Silver Starr had given it to her in good faith so Chloe felt honour bound to do as she’d been bidden. She raised her hand high in the air and threw it with all her might into the churning waves.

  “Help me write my essay!” Chloe shouted above the pounding surf and shrieking gulls. “Help me understand how to capture all those feelings! Help me to write an essay that will pass!”

  Feeling very self conscious, Chloe glanced around hoping nobody had seen her. She felt a bit stupid believing in magic, even if it had only been for a split second. Maria would wet herself if she knew and as for Alex Rowe… well, he’d think Chloe Hamilton was a lunatic and never talk to her again. It was just as well she was only in Polwenna Bay for a week, Chloe decided, otherwise she was in danger of ending up as loopy as Silver flipping Starr. It certainly explained why Tess was so odd these days.

  Deep in thought, she climbed the winding steps which led away from the beach and up onto the cliff path. Her boots squelched through the puddles and her breath came in short sharp pants because this path was steep. For a moment Chloe considered heading back to the warmth of Tess’s cottage but there was something weirdly enjoyable about physical exercise after being cooped up indoors so she carried on. This made her grin because her PE teacher wouldn’t have believed it. Chloe Hamilton was actually choosing to exercise rather than skulking in the cloakroom pleading a stomach ache!

  After about a mile the lower path petered out, forking in several different directions, and Chloe plumped for the highest one. After fifteen more minutes she stopped for a breather. I really need to get fit, she thought, her hands resting on her knees as she doubled over and waited for a stitch to pass. Maybe she should just forget this walk and go back to Tess’s via Patsy’s Pasties? Just the thought of crumbly golden pastry, hot potato and tender cubes of steak was enough to make her mouth water.

  Not everything about Polwenna Bay was bad.

  While she waited for her stitch to go Chloe sat on a rock, crumbling powdery yellow lichen between her fingers and catching her breath. The climb up had been steeper than she’d realised and, deep in thought of pasties, she must have walked a lot further than she’d realised. She’d been so intent on not slipping on the wet path that she hadn’t noticed a sly sea mist begin to blow in, the swathes of mizzling damp drifting silently across the waves and folding softly over
the crumpled rooftops of the village.

  Although it was only mid afternoon the scent of evening was in the air and lamps in cottage windows already shining through the gathering gloom. The pub’s fairy lights spilled their dancing patterns into the grey water, their reflection and the swirling mist the only movement because everything else was motionless. Within seconds the mist wrapped itself around the cliff top like a thick white scarf and all was blinded and muffled. Polwenna Bay was erased and it was as though the village no longer existed. Chloe could be anywhere and she had the oddest sensation that she’d slipped through the mists into another time altogether. Tess’s words about myths and legends suddenly seemed very real and Chloe wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see Black Jack Jago and his wrecking henchmen walking by, wrapped in cloaks and carrying the lantern that would lure sailors to their watery doom.

  Hey! That wasn’t at all bad. Maybe that could be the start of her story? The hero could be a wrecker and the heroine could be a passenger on a doomed ship. Or something. Feeling cheered Chloe decided she’d better make her way back into the village and start writing before the Muse slipped away and she was left staring at a blank Word document until she went cross-eyed. She’d also better get her skates on in case the mist became any heavier. With every second that passed it was swirling in from the sea with greater intensity and Chloe blinked. She’d never seen anything like it in her life.

  She shivered. It was great to have an idea for her assignment at last but negotiating the cliff path home to write it was going to be a challenge. Her heart skipped a beat. Who’d rubbed out the world? The beach had long since vanished and the houses perched high above the sea were smothered too. Chloe knew that only meters away there was a sheer drop down to boiling waves and razor toothed rocks while the path home was somewhere to the left of her, or was it the to the right?

  She leapt to her feet, heart bumping against her ribs, all thoughts of coursework forgotten. She could hardly see her hand in front of her face! Was it left she wanted to go? Or was it right? Terrified, Chloe began to retrace her footsteps, a frightened sob catching in her throat because the path was so steep and in the thick mist she could see little. Her pretty city wellies were useless on wet granite and several times she slithered only just managing to stay upright.

  Starting to panic, Chloe stumbled along the slippery path and cried out loud when she missed her footing and pitched forward. Her hands clutched wildly at the air, fingers of gorse clawed her face and boulders slammed into her knees. Scree slipped past her cheeks, plunging into thin air and down into the churning sea, and as the small bottle shattered in her coat pocket the air filled with the woody scent of Clary Sage.

  Great. Just great.

  Chloe felt close to tears. She’d bumped her head hard as she fell and for a moment she sat winded in the mud while her vision rolled. By the time she was able to even think about moving the mist had grown even heavier and, totally disorientated, she was unable to tell where the path ended and the cliff edge began. Chloe didn’t dare move. The mist swirled and danced around her, eerie and silent and from the corner of her eye she thought she saw figures moving and leering at her. The old stories of wreckers and drowned sailors were no longer exciting and deliciously spooky but absolutely terrifying. Chloe’s horror of plunging over a cliff was nothing compared to her new found fear of ghosts and as a grey figure loomed closer she cried out in fear.

  “Don’t be afraid, miss. It’s going to be all right!”

  A young man, probably no more than twenty, stepped forward from the midst of the swirling sea fret and held his hands out to her.

  “I won’t hurt you, I promise. Let me help you back down to the village.”

  Chloe stared up at him, so taken aback she couldn’t speak. Why on earth would a young man be up on the cliffs in the mist? It didn’t make any sense until he took a step closer and she saw he was wearing a blue smock and yellow waterproofs. Chloe exhaled with relief because this must be one of the village’s young fishermen. He wasn’t one she recognised but being a local lad he would know the cliff paths like the back of his hand and instinctively she trusted him to guide her home. It also helped that this local lad was so handsome Alex Rowe and Harry Styles instantly paled away in comparison.

  Was inspiration finally starting to strike?

  “I’m Sam Pendeen,” he said, cornflower blue eyes crinkling merrily at her. “I saw you wandering along the path and this is no place for you to be in such weather. It’s dangerous up here. Come on, let’s get you back safely.”

  “I was out walking when the mist came down and I got lost,” she explained, feeling foolish.

  “That’s easily done up here,” Sam Pendeen said kindly. “You’re not the first lost person I’ve come across in these parts and I don’t suppose you’ll be the last. Take my hand and I’ll guide you back. You’re going to be just fine, miss.”

  “You don’t need to call me miss. I’m not a teacher, you know! My name’s, Chloe.”

  “Chloe.” He rolled the syllables over his tongue as though they tasted delicious. “That’s a lovely name but it’s too dangerous for you to be up here alone, Chloe. Let me guide you home.”

  Putting her hand into his large cold one, Chloe allowed Sam to pull her to her feet. With a sure and steady tread he guided her along the treacherous pathways and back to safety. He didn’t say much but his fingers knitted with hers in a way that make Chloe feel the oddest mixture of safe and lost, as though she were falling through space and time. She glanced at him several times, amazed by the purity of his strong profile and the golden glint of stubble on his high cheekbones. It was odd but he had the strongest look of Nick Tremaine about him. Maybe they were related? Lots of people were in Polwenna Bay and many of the oldest families had intermarried for centuries. He was younger than Nick, Chloe decided, but he felt older too and in a way that she couldn’t quite explain. There was a seriousness about Sam that was lacking in the fisher lads she knew, with all their bragging about girls and excessive beer drinking. The only way she could describe it was that he felt…old fashioned.

  What a strange thing to think!

  Maybe it was the way he held her hand or clasped her waist to lift her over the muddiest spots or even how he carried her down the final twists of the treacherous stone steps, but Sam made Chloe feel as though she were made of spun glass. Alex Rowe for all his swagger could never make her feel like this. In fact, the more she sneaked glances at her handsome rescuer the more Chloe wondered what she’d ever seen in Alex.

  She was suddenly very glad she’d come to Polwenna Bay for half term.

  Even once the danger was past, and she was safely back at the bottom of the steep cliff steps, Sam still held her hand and Chloe was more than happy to leave her fingers in his. He didn’t speak much but there was something about him that didn’t need any words and which made her heart sing. Was it the thick mane of honey coloured hair or the sexy mouth? His blue eyes maybe with the laughter stars around them? Or was it that he’d rescued her and was her absolute hero?

  Oh! Who cared? He was gorgeous and suddenly Chloe understood exactly what her English teacher had been on about. Wuthering Heights and lightning fast attraction made absolute sense. It was real and she totally got it. Every cell in her body felt as though it had been drinking Red Bull!

  “You’re safe now.”

  Sam’s words were so softly spoken that Chloe wondered if she even heard them. Maybe they were just echoes in her heart?

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s what I’m here for.”

  She smiled up at him. Those freckles dusting his nose like cinnamon sprinkles were just adorable and Chloe simply couldn’t help herself; she rose onto her tip toes and brushed her lips against his chilly mouth. For a split second time seemed to stand still. Sam stared down at her as though he was looking into her soul before taking her face in his cold hands and kissing her long and deeply.


  For a first kiss it was everything a girl could ever hope for. Sam’s mouth was gentle and his lips glacier cool but when they claimed hers Chloe turned to flame. She was so glad to be safe, through danger and in this beautiful man’s arms that any worries about her inexperience melted away. As the mist continued to roll in she gave herself up to Sam’s sweet and tender kiss. Nothing else mattered.

  “It’s time for you to go home, Chloe,” Sam said softly when they finally drew apart. “I’ve stayed too long and I have to go.”

  “Come back to my sister’s with me,” Chloe suggested, reluctant to let him leave. That kiss was addictive and she couldn’t bear to let him go so soon. “I’ll make us tea, it’s the least I can do, and you’re frozen.”

  He shook his head and gently pushed her away. “This is as far as I can go. I have to get back now.”

  She touched his icy jaw. “But you’re so cold!”

  He smiled and there was a sadness in those eyes that made her heart twist. “Am I? I hardly notice any more.”

  “Yes, you’re freezing!” Rising onto her tip- toes Chloe took off Tess’s red scarf and wound it round his chilly neck. “I can’t have you catching cold because of me. This will keep you warm, Sam Pendeen, and you can return it tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” Sam echoed, his gaze sliding from hers and out towards the mist swathed sea. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek and Chloe gasped as his mouth burned icy against her skin. She’d never known lips could be so cold.

  “I’ll return it tomorrow,” he said quietly. “That’s a promise.”

  Then he was slipping back into the mist, melting with the swirling grey just as suddenly as he’d stepped out of it.

  “But where will you be?” Chloe called after him.

  Sam’s voice drifted faintly through the mist. “Here. I’m always here.

  Then he was gone, into the mist and the gathering dusk, and Chloe gazed after him for a minute feeling a little unnerved. Where on earth was Sam going? Surely the way he was headed only led to the far end of the quay? Mystified, she turned and headed back to her sister’s cottage.