The next day back in Downton...
Chris sat in the shop lazily leaning back in a chair behind the counter during mid-morning. He reckoned today would be a quiet day. It had been raining all morning and that tended to put people off from venturing out if they didn't have too. He had collected the post from the doormat earlier and left it on the counter top while he saw to several tasks that were necessary for the day to day running of the shop. He hoped that the rain would stop by the afternoon though as he had plans. He reached across from where he was sitting and flicked through the small pile of envelopes. Most concerned the business of the book shop, he put them aside to see to later, but the last was addressed to him. Thomas, he thought as he recognised the handwriting. He hadn't thought that Thomas would get around to writing while he and Richard were away. He honestly didn't blame them if he forgot all about it as they were on holiday and thoughts of Downton, and possibly him would be pushed to the back of both their minds naturally. However, he really was hoping that Thomas wouldn't forget him. And he hadn't:
Dear Chris,
Firstly, I hope you don't mind that I sent this letter to the shop instead of to your cottage. I know your address of course, but I thought you would like to receive it sooner rather than later and the postman would be most likely to find you at the shop during the day.
Secondly, I hope you don't mind me using our full names in this letter. I asked Richard and he's fine with it since we have nothing to hide from you. All the same, you can never be too careful so please hide this away somewhere no one will think to look for it? Or you could burn it, but I don't think you would want to do that.
Thirdly, I am rambling now. I'm sorry. You didn't take time out of your day to read a load of waffle. Chris laughed out loud at this. "Thomas you can say whatever you like and I will listen," he said to himself and to Thomas. I will get to the point now, promise.
I will forever be in your debt Chris. Your support for this trip for us both has been priceless. I talk about the book and compass you gave me (I will get to that later) but also of agreeing to look after things while we're away. Because of things we both know, about our relationship, I am especially grateful for that. Chris didn't need the words to be written to know what Thomas meant. He let out a shaky breath before reading on.
The cottage is lovely. It is huge as well, bigger on the inside I swear. People of our class think of a cottage as a small little place, cosy and homely. It is certainly that, but it has three bedrooms, a bathroom that is bigger than mine and Richard's living room, pantry (fully stocked), dining room with enough places for eight (Larry must have spent time entertaining here I am sure), and a kitchen with appliances that will make the kitchen staff at Downton green with envy. Our room overlooks the lake, the beach in the far distance. We visited the beach in the evening when we arrived last Saturday, took a bottle of wine and watched the sun set. The beach is unusual as it has water on both sides of it instead of a cliff. It literally forms a bar between the lake and the open sea. I could have very happily spent every day there, however you encouraged us to explore with the book you gave me. Not that Richard needs much encouragement.
He, I think, is in love. Not just with me but with the Aston Martin Larry arranged for us to have for the week. Richard is probably the best one to tell you all about that. I am sure that when we come back you will hear of nothing else other than the Aston for several days, maybe weeks. Don't say I didn't warn you. I just asked him what the full name of the car is and he was horrified I had forgotten! We are driving around in a dark green Aston Martin International Sports Tourer. Maybe I feel a bit out of place in something so fine but Richard doesn't. He has been out this morning and yesterday morning washing the thing, sorry I mean 'her' (don't tell Richard I called the car a 'thing'!), and I reckon this will be a daily routine for him. I even had to cook him breakfast because he got himself so distracted. It was a delightful surprise that I actually didn't do too badly on the cooking front, apart from the toast but Richard distracted me so that was his fault.
Now, I said I would get back to the book and the compass. On the train Richard was making detailed notes of places he would like to visit over the coming week from your book. He made so many, I doubt we will get to them all, but we visited a place called 'Kennack' yesterday and had a picnic. Lovely open beach with a river and a grassy headland. Not another soul in sight, just how we like it. Richard discovered a ruin of what once was, I suppose, a little cottage. Just a shell left now, no windows or roof, but the flowers in the garden were still there. We have been under the impression that Cornwall is abandoned as we have seen very few fellow humans here so far. I suspect that will change today as we plan a walk in and around 'Penrose woodland and estate' and then later we will go into town to post this letter and Richard's letter to Larry, which he is writing now.
Back to the book though- it is so detailed, I feel like if we didn't have it we would be wandering around this wonderful place blind. It is our guide to put it simply, so thank you for digging it out. The compass, I was admiring it on the train on the way down. I honestly think that it must be worth a great deal. I do wonder why you kept it when you needed money desperately? Maybe the sentimental value it has is greater than the financial value? I keep thinking about what you said about your grandfather being kind to you when no one else was. Maybe he was your ally? Don't feel like you have to grace these questions with an answer though. It is your business, not mine and I should really mind my own. Just my thoughts coming out onto paper. It has sat on the table next to me, when I have been studying the maps, and making plans of where to go for the next few days. I think I will take it with us when we explore places that are a bit more remote. You never know, we might get lost and we will need your compass to guide us. Chris stopped reading and thought for a while. He wasn't really sure of the answers to Thomas's questions himself. He never had many reasons to be sentimental about anything in his life before, but the compass had that type of value that can't be counted in coins. Thomas putting those questions down on paper made it dawn on him why he never sold it. He also knew what Thomas was trying to ask without asking. "Did my grandfather know about me and still love me? That is what you mean isn't it Thomas?" he said to himself and to Thomas. "I never knew, but maybe he did. Perhaps that is why I have it and not my older brother. I gave it to you though, because it is priceless."
Chris continued reading, pushing those thoughts aside. I don't know what we will do tomorrow, or the next day. We're just taking each day as it comes, I rather like that. Usually each day is so predictable. I hope that everything is going well at the shop, I am sure it is, you seem to have a good knowledge of running it well. And if I have just put my foot in it and things aren't going well, I am confident you will sort it all out.
I'll come and see you when we return, and give your compass back to you, and tell you some more of what we get up to if that's okay?
Your friend,
Thomas
Chris wondered if he would be jealous at hearing of Richard and Thomas having their holiday together, but he just felt happy for him. Maybe a bit jealous, but not of the holiday. Jealous of Richard maybe? Or just jealous that he has someone? He sighed and looked at the end of the letter. 'Your friend' was written as if Thomas had hesitated, perhaps wondering how to end it. I should be grateful, he thought. People like me are lucky to just have someone fighting in their corner so to speak. But he wanted to be loved. Nothing wrong with wanting that is there? Trouble is, even if someone came along, which he reckons is unlikely, how would he let go of him?
Chris was vaguely aware of the shop door bell ringing as someone entered. He was still deep in thought, looking at the letter, the flow of Thomas's hand. "Am I interrupting?"
Chris looked up. "Michael? I wasn't expecting you until later."
"Yep. I know I'm early. I have the whole day off and some of tomorrow. I could have sat twiddling my thumbs for several hours but I'd thought I'd come by and see you here." Michael observed his friend. He was clearly rather distracted. "From someone special?" he asked, referring to the letter in Chris's hand.
"Oh um, I suppose. But not in the way you are thinking," Chris said, folding Thomas's letter back into its envelope and putting it in his shirt pocket. "Been a while hasn't it?"
"Valentines day." Michael said, leaning back against the counter. "I remember it well." Chris had abruptly changed the subject away from the letter, Michael therefore decided to abandon the subject that Chris clearly wanted to leave alone. "So, your boss and his partner are away. You invite me here. What's the plan?"
"Well the plan was that we could go for a walk, come back to my place. Cook dinner- you told me you can cook," Chris said.
"I can, I get by at least. But I guess my unexpected arrival has put a spanner in the works?" Michael asked.
"A bit. I can't exactly just shut up shop and leave," Chris said. "But if you don't mind hanging around for the rest of the day then I could maybe close at four instead of five."
"I could help out I suppose. I don't do books, just delicate pieces of jewelry, but I know my way around a shop," Michael offered.
"That would be good," Chris said. "I'll buy you lunch as payment."
"Well I don't need paying for spending time in your pleasant company Mr Webster, but I'll be a fool to turn down the offer," Michael said with a grin.
"You would," Chris smiled back.
...
Meanwhile, in Cornwall...
Richard shifted the car into gear as they climbed a steep single track road up along the top of the cliff overlooking a beach called 'Poldhu'. The sea was right below them as they climbed above the beach up to the top where the road flattened out. On the way up the road gave them an impressive view of the beach below, long and narrow with golden sand and a river parting it in half, but also a grand looking Victorian hotel up on the opposite headland. What was more eye catching was the four huge masts and wires that were situated on the land behind the hotel. They dominated that part of the skyline, Thomas reckoning that they must be about 200ft high. Richard glanced in his direction as he drove. "They are part of the Marconi Poldhu Wireless Station," Richard informed Thomas. "They sent a message all the way across the Atlantic using those. Reckon that will be part of the future." On top of the headland the road stayed flat before dropping again down towards another beach called 'Gunwalloe, church cove.' From the map Thomas knew that Gunwalloe had two beaches, 'church cove' which he assumed was the one they were looking at since there was a small church nestled into a cliff just above the beach, and another known as 'dollar cove'. "We could park up here," Richard said. "I don't fancy driving down there onto the sand. Besides look at the view!"
Richard was right. They were parked high on top of the cliff and straight ahead of them was nothing but the open sea. There was the occasional flash of a lighthouse somewhere far in the distance, only visible in the daylight due to the grey clouds that were also dominating the skyline. After the cloud had come over yesterday, they hadn't seen the sun since. "We should probably leave the roof up," Thomas said, grabbing his overcoat from the backseat. Although it was May, they were still in England and so rain was always possible.
"I agree, I don't want to get the leather wet," Richard said.
"No course not," Thomas said, grinning whilst not being jealous at all.
...
They reached the beach a short while later after walking down the road that led right down onto the beach itself. Across the other side of the beach in amongst some dunes, they could see that the road continued after crossing the beach and a small river, though it was not the sort of terrain that Richard felt happy about driving across in the Aston with its narrow tires. The sky was covered in a whitish grey blanket of cloud and the wind picking up coming off the sea indicated that the darker clouds out to sea were coming their way soon. Nevertheless, they were not willing to just abandon their trip for the sake of a little bad weather, not when the whole beach was helpfully deserted. Like the other beach they had visited on their second day on holiday, there were no houses in sight, except for a farm in the distance, up the road inland from the coast by about half a mile. The valley, that stretched back for miles into the sloping fields beyond, was wide and flat. It was the river's floodplain and so was entirely covered in marsh and reeds for as far as the eye could see. The only building close to them was the church on the opposite end of the beach to which they arrived. The church was so close to the beach, it may as well have been built on the beach itself. The only thing separating it from the beach was a tall stone wall that was the barrier between high tides and the churchyard. The church was set about eight or nine feet above the beach, the wall being a similar height. The church was also shielded partially from view by several small but tough trees that ran parallel to the wall. If the rain came, the church would be their only shelter.
"We could go up there," Richard suggested, pointing up to the steep sided grassy headland right above the church. "Although, I have an idea first. Something I'd like to try." He bent down and picked up a smooth flat stone from the beach. Most of the stones on the beach seemed to be flat and smooth. They were pieces of dark grey slate, probably from the surrounding cliffs, that had been smoothed and rounded by the sea. Richard studied the stone and, seeming satisfied, picked up a few similarly smooth and flat stones, handing a few to Thomas. "How good are you at skimming stones?"
Thomas smiled at Richard's eagerness to play a child's game. "On a river, not bad, but you need a calm surface. I doubt you'd get much success with the sea. We could try the river upstream a bit?"
"You can skim stones on the sea. I've done it before, you have to get them to bounce on the calmer water between breaking waves. Then they sometimes jump the waves coming in behind them," Richard explained. Thomas followed Richard down to the shoreline, as Richard seemed very keen and quite determined. Richard was competitive, but so was he. The waves were not the most forgiving, the wind was whipping them up so that they broke unpredictably and unevenly, although Richard did not seem put off. He bent down a little so that he could be more eye level with the waves. Holding one of the stones flat in his hand, secured in a grip between his thumb and index finger, he tossed it out to sea just after a wave broke and before the next one had time to arrive. It bounced once, twice, then three times before being taken by the next breaking wave. "There we are. Absolutely possible," he said triumphantly.
"Not bad," Thomas said.
Richard smiled, "You think you can do better?"
"Probably," Thomas said confidently.
"Be my guest," Richard said.
Thomas held the stone in his hand, waited for a minute, eyeing up the waves, waiting for the perfect moment, before throwing his stone out into the waves also. It bounced four times before jumping over a small wave and disappearing. Thomas turned to face Richard, a smug look on his face. "I think I win?"
"I admit defeat," Richard said. He looked up and down the beach, then up onto the cliff above them and behind them. "Your reward," he said before planting a sweet kiss on Thomas's lips.
Victory is sweet, Thomas thought after Richard kissed him. A drop of rain fell heavily onto his head at that moment though, followed quickly by another, and then another. The clouds that had been far out to sea when they arrived were now almost overhead, tumbling, grey and menacing, not characteristic of typical summer weather. The wind was picking up even more. "We should go, I think we are about to get very wet," Thomas said looking up to the sky.
As if Thomas tempted fate, the rain then increased from just a few drops to regular splashes on their face and clothes, little dots appearing on dry sand below them as they hit the beach. Richard took Thomas's hand as they ran up the beach in the direction of the church, which they were hoping was empty. There way was blocked by the river that cut the beach in half but as neither of them fancied standing in the rain right out in the open, they half stumbled half ran across the widest but shallowest part of the river, not wanting to waste time by using the bridge up at the top of the beach. The rain was going to be the victor this time in this race it seemed.
...
Meanwhile, in Mayfair, London...
Larry kicked off his shoes and collapsed into the comfort of the large Italian leather sofa that he had against the wall of his study in his town house in London. He poured himself a drink and placed it on the small table at one end of the sofa before lying down along the full length of it. It was not the behaviour that would be expected of a gentleman, but he hadn't always been a gentleman of the upper classes and since he was alone and had no one to impress, he would do what he liked. He had been out making tedious social calls to people whom it was good to maintain a friendly relationship with. London society was one where if you were in the good books of a select few, then you would be with everyone else. Strange world, but that is how it is. He was in need of some quality time to himself. Socialising and making small talk was actually rather tiring. A few letters had been left by his butler, who was not anywhere as near as handsome as Richard's Mr Barrow, he thought momentarily, before picking them up with a lazily outstretched arm and shuffling through them. Oh great, another invitation, he thought as he recognised the writing of an American businessman that he had become acquainted with a few years back whilst looking into railway investments in central America. Can't turn him down though, he thought, since he had some of his money tied up in a few projects. When those projects were complete though, then he would cut ties. The man was rich and snobbish to go with it and did not look well upon men like him at all. He had made that clear with comments in the past, though he knew nothing of his own nature, and never will, Larry thought. He flicked through the rest of the letters before he came across the last one, and one that grabbed his attention instantly. "My, my, hello Richard dear," he said to himself as he recognised Richard's hand:
Dear Larry,
I reckon you have been eagerly anticipating my letter. Remember, I know you, so I thought it best to write this early in our holiday instead of later, so that it would reach you at the earliest opportunity. The only downside of this of course, is that I have only a few days to tell you about. The other adventures that I am sure Thomas and I will encounter, are a mystery to us both for now.
I have to say Larry, you're choice in the car for us both was spot on. I really couldn't believe my luck! If you are feeling proud of yourself at my immense joy over the Aston then you are well deserving of that. She is beautiful Larry, and I don't think those are words I have ever uttered or written in my whole life (for reasons you know well). She runs like a dream, the colour, the sound, the feel of the leather, everything is perfect. Thomas is teasing me that I am in love. He will tease me more if he ever reads these words! I will be very sorry indeed to part with her, and I hope (but don't expect or ask) that you could arrange for us to be reunited one day. I have been taking very good care of her, as you would expect. Despite the fact that we visited a beach where we could have driven her across a river and along the sand, I refrained and parked her on the road. It was not a huge sacrifice on my part though as it allowed Thomas and I to have some fun running across the abandoned beach. On that note, you never mentioned that Cornwall's beaches were completely void of people! Or maybe we have only encountered those that are and avoided those that aren't, by happy coincidence.
Thomas was given a very handy guidebook to the area by a certain Mr W, whom you met on your visit last. Larry chuckled as he thought of Mr Webster's face when he winked in his direction on leaving Richard's shop. "There is a man who should not stay single for long," he said to himself as he read. The book really does contain every little hidden detail about the area and quite frankly, we'd be lost without it. I spent a great deal of time whilst travelling down on the train studying it and making notes of particular places of interest for Thomas and I. I have a large list of places I hope we can visit. We will not realistically have time for all, but we will pick our favourite each day. On the evening we arrived at the cottage, we took a bottle of wine down to Loe Bar beach and watched the sun go down. It was the perfect way to celebrate an anniversary and I would have been content if that was all we did. However, we have several more days ahead of us. Yesterday, we visited the beach I mentioned above, called Kennack. Had a lovely time in the marram grass in the dunes (I will leave that up to your own imagination!) and a picnic up on the cliffs overlooking the sea, where we spotted several ships out to sea. I had to have a little explore of our surroundings later on, and came across a little ruin of a cottage. After Thomas had dried his feet off paddling in the river and getting nibbled by hundreds of tadpoles, he joined me as we sat on one of the old window sills in the peaceful surroundings of the woods behind the beach.
Today we plan on exploring a few places more local to the cottage. We will drive to part of the Penrose estate and walk around there and find a few spots to eat lunch before posting this letter, and Thomas's letter to Mr W. I should also say that the cottage you have is wonderful. I reckon you had a hand in the decoration? Whilst the themed bedrooms would not look in place with our place back home, I do think they suit your cottage well. It is a lot bigger than what either of us ever imagined a cottage to be like. Thomas was rather fascinated by the refrigerator, which I assume you had bought over from America as they are not yet as popular over here. Thomas actually cooked me breakfast yesterday. He is not the best in the kitchen but he impressed me and himself. The only thing that was burnt was the toast and that was my fault as I distracted him. I was supposed to cook, but I was too distracted by the Aston to remember to cook anything. I reckon Thomas got fed up with waiting!
I will wrap this up now and I really should say that both Thomas and I owe you a great debt now. If you ever need our help with anything then you can count on us I promise you. Perhaps you could come back to visit us again sometime? Though if you do, if you could let me know in advance this time so I am not caught so unaware! The only other condition I ask is that you remember to knock this time. (Now that the situation between us three is more friendly, I will continue to tease you about that!)
Your friend always,
Richard
p.s. I am sure I don't need to ask you this but since I did not remove our names from the letter, and because of what my words give away, please keep the letter in a place that is away from unwelcome eyes? I know you have a large house, but think of somewhere none of your servants can accidentally discover it.
The last words in the postscript were of utmost importance. It would be a mistake to leave a letter lying on his desk or in the draw so Larry finished his drink and tucked the letter into his pocket. This house was an interesting one. It had a few secret passageways, the purpose of which remains unknown, but Larry knew of their location. He felt along the wooden paneling of his study until he reached a corner. If the wood was pushed in a very particular way, a small door would open. He took a torch and slipped inside. The passageway was in between the walls of his study and the drawing room. The floor was stone and so he lifted up a stone that he knew was loose and felt underneath in the small hole that was underneath the stones for a box. The box contained things too secret to be seen, but too precious to destroy. The box was locked with a code, instead of a key for good measure. He placed the box back in the hole and the stone on top so that it would not wobble if trodden on. If anyone found the passageway then a loose stone would give a hiding place away. "Your secrets are safe with mine, Richard," he whispered before returning to his study.
...
Back at the beach...
Thomas and Richard ran along through the open iron gate, into the small churchyard, and up a narrow path through the graves to the little porch at the entrance. They laughed as they caught their breath and shook their coats dry as best they could. The rain was now lashing down outside and the wind, which was unhelpfully blowing straight towards the church entrance, was blowing gusts of rain in their direction. So despite their attempts to shelter, they were still getting rather wet. Richard tried the thick wooden door of the church and was relieved to find it was unlocked. "Come on," he said to Thomas. "Better than standing here anyway."
Richard shut the door behind them. The rain and wind kept out of the church by a thick wooden door that looked very old, but sturdy enough to withstand whatever the southwesterly winds could throw at it. It was a small door in terms of height though and they both had to bend down a little to not bump their heads on the granite frame above. The church, in comparison to the wind and rain outside, was still and quiet. The familiar musty smell that went with all churches hit them immediately. "Suspect it's only a shower," Thomas said, referring to the rain.
They stood there by the door, looking around and listening for the sounds of anyone else, should they be present also. All that they could hear was the faint sounds of the rain on the stained glass windows and the wind whistling through the large lock in the door. Satisfied it was just them, they sat down in one of the pews. Thomas hated church pews. They made his back ache and he wondered if they were designed to make any church service more unpleasant that it already was. He remembered complaining to his mother about it when he was younger, when he was dragged along to church every Sunday morning. Especially as he got older, he never wanted to be there. He and his friend David would occasionally try to skip church by running off in the early morning, but that only worked once or twice and usually had painful consequences for him. His mother had said that they were uncomfortable so that God's congregation would be totally focused on him rather than their own comforts. Thomas thought, and still does think, that was a stupid reason. If he was uncomfortable all he could think about was being uncomfortable. As if he sensed Thomas's mind being disturbed by memories, Richard placed a gentle hand on his face and kissed him. All thoughts of past memories faded as Thomas tasted Richard's lips, whilst he kissed him back, his arm around Richard's back resting on the top of the pew behind him. Richard smoothed a couple of rain drops from Thomas's forehead whilst not breaking eye contact. "Listen," he said. "Think its stopped."
There was a brightness coming from outside the windows now. Thomas could see it being reflected in the little raindrops decorating Richard's windswept hair. "It has. Shall we go?" Thomas said getting up and offering Richard his hand. Richard nodded and took Thomas's hand as they left the pew, only parting when they had to open the door.
...
They climbed over a wall in the churchyard and down some small steps cut into the outside of the wall to reach a tiny path in the side of the cliff. The side of the headland was covered in grass and the path wound its way up the side of the headland at an angle that was more vertical than horizontal. Richard, who was climbing up this steep path ahead of Thomas, slipped. Thomas instinctively reached forward and stopped Richard from falling back into him. "Thank you Mr Barrow," Richard said, grinning to himself as he felt both of Thomas's hands firmly on his backside.
"You're welcome," Thomas said, matching Richard's expression.
They reached the top of the headland which was a flat plateau covered in thick clumps of interestingly bouncy grass, the beach they had been skimming stones on earlier behind them on one side, and the other beach they were walking towards on the other side of the headland down a slope. Straight ahead was nothing but open water, the clouds looked less furious now that the shower had passed and the sky a little brighter, despite the blanket of white cloud. The air smelt fresh; a mixture of salt and rain. As they walked, Richard not being able to resist jumping on the largest clumps of grass to see which ones would be the most bouncy, a few rabbits darted out in front of them, disturbed by their presence. They walked to the furthest most end of the headland where they slowed their pace as ahead of them was a sheer drop hundred or so feet onto the rocks below. The wind was in their faces when they walked along the edge of the cliffs where they suddenly came across a discovery. If they stood back several feet they wouldn't have seen it. There was a narrow path cut into the top of the headland that seemed to lead down over the edge of the cliff and down to the sea. Definitely not natural, Richard thought, cautiously walking over to investigate. He walked only a few steps along the path that had the cliff edge to one side but nothing to stop one from slipping and falling into the sea below, on the other. The rock was slippery so he didn't venture any further and he could sense Thomas's worry, who had remained back on the top of the cliff. From what he could tell the path led eventually to a natural rock platform below the headland, and perhaps a cave. Another mystery. Smugglers? he thought. If it had been a fine day, the rock not wet underfoot, and the sea a lot calmer he might have ventured down there, but it wasn't so he turned back. "Old smuggling route I reckon," Richard said, as he reached Thomas again who now looked a lot happier that his partner was back with him and away from danger. "Can't think why else someone would make all that effort to cut a path into a very dangerous part of the cliff. Probably reckoned that the authorities would think that no one would dare to land a boat here in such a hazardous spot."
"Bet the church was in on it," Thomas said. "Well, think about it. If you are going to hide some illegal cargo anywhere, what better place than a church? The authorities would have no problem with ripping up people's floorboards in their homes to look for such things, but they would probably fear for their souls or something if they damaged a church. Plus, you could have a fake grave, bury it all there. No one would ever know."
Richard looked at Thomas, impressed. "That's a good theory. Quite an imagination you have."
...
"Dollar cove then," Thomas said, standing on a rock jutting out from the middle of the beach with his hands on his hips, later on when they were on the other beach of Gunwalloe. It was the opposite to the first beach they were on. This one was covered in rocks and stones of various shapes and sizes, instead of mainly sand, making it hard to walk at any reasonable pace across. Over to their left was the sheer cliffs of the headland, the church now hidden from view. Behind them wasn't much of a cliff. There was no real cliff in places. Where there was it was only about twenty feet high and instead of being made of rock, it was made of fragile clay and sand, with layers of slate forming twists and turns at sharp angles in the cliff; a result of when they were formed millions of years ago.
"Yep, so called because apparently there are thousands of silver coins to be found around here after a Spanish ship was wrecked off the coast on the rocks over a hundred years ago, seven thousand of them," Richard said.
"Could do with a few silver coins," Thomas said, climbing down from the rock he had been standing on. The tide was going out and out to sea he could see why a ship would sink here. The beach gave way quickly to an expanse of rock, smooth and too far inland for a ship, but further out were jagged outcrops of rocks only just visible above the waves. In a storm or bad weather, they could easily be missed.
"Yeah, I could make Larry and offer for the car," Richard joked.
"I could quit my job and we could move here permanently," Thomas said.
"I thought you liked your job?" Richard asked as they began to walk along the beach.
"I do. But I'd much rather spend my days with you here wandering around cliffs and beaches searching for treasure and smugglers caves and shipwrecks, and laying in sand dunes with you on top of me," Thomas said.
"Wouldn't you get bored of that?" Richard asked.
"Don't know. But I would never get bored of you on top of me!" Thomas said. Richard bit his lip and looked down at the ground as they walked. Thomas noticed the red tinge to Richard's cheeks. He's blushing, Thomas thought. Five years and I can still make him do that.
...
Later back in Downton...
"Tastes good," Michael said.
"Don't sound so surprised, I'm not too bad a cook," Chris said. They had been out for a walk for most of the afternoon. Chris had taken Michael around some of the more quieter parts of the Downton estate. He couldn't go with him too close to the house in case anyone recognised him and wondered who he was walking with, but they had managed to find some wild berries whilst walking along some of the lanes. The fruit made a good addition to the apples that they had cooked up and prepared together in Chris's kitchen, and when Michael had found the right ingredients to make some pastry, they decided to turn it into an apple and berry pie.
"I'm more surprised I remembered how to make pastry," Michael said.
"It's not that complicated," Chris said, putting down his bowl.
"It is if you haven't made it for several years." They sat on the same chair in Chris's living room. It was getting dark outside and the rain was beginning to patter against the window. Chris had grown used to Michael's company this afternoon, that now when it was coming to an end he didn't want him to go. It was love he craved, and Michael couldn't give him that, but he could give him companionship, as he has done for years and as he himself has given in return.
"You could stay," Chris said suddenly. "That is if you don't want to get back tonight. It's raining and dark now anyway, and it might be best if you do stay."
"I was hoping you'd say that. Didn't fancy going back yet," Michael said. Chris smiled, as Michael leant against him ever so slightly. Human contact, the touch or a hug of someone who cares about you, that is what he craves. "Can I ask you something?" Michael says suddenly.
"Yeah course," Chris answers, trying not to sound too bothered.
"When you meet someone-"
"-If I meet someone," Chris interrupted. Or if I am able to get over him, he added in his mind.
"When you do, because you will, I am sure of it, will you still want me around or should I back out of your life?" Michael asked.
"You're more optimistic than me," Chris said. Michael was looking at him, clearly waiting for an answer. "I wouldn't want you to be pushed away, not when you've been there for me when no one else could be bothered. We can stay friends right?"
"Yeah," Michael said, feeling better because he hated the thought of being alone.
Notes:
-Poldhu hotel was opened in 1899. It was one of several grand hotels built in scenic locations along the coast in the late 19th century. The railway that terminated at Helston was originally going to be extended south, bringing tourists to the area, hence the need for the hotels. Poldhu is currently a care home.
-The Marconi Poldhu Wireless Station was where Italian inventor Guglielmo Marconi managed to send the first radio signal across the Atlantic from Poldhu to Newfoundland in 1901. The foundations of the four huge 215ft high masts are still visible.
-The smugglers path that Richard discovered exists. I have not been down there myself as it is very dangerous on a good day. Churches were involved in smuggling several hundred years ago, along with anyone else who could benefit from it. There is another church in Cornwall which is supposed to have tunnels underneath it that lead to a large cave on a hidden spot on the coast.
-Dollar Cove is named after the silver coins that are supposed to be from a ship that wrecked off the coast a couple of hundred years ago. It is not known for sure which ship the coins have come from as many ships have been wrecked on the rocks over the years. The most likely candidate is a small vessel that was sailing from Malaga in Spain called the Rio Nova which was carrying 19000 silver dollars. 12000 were recovered but 7000 were not.