Sea Glass (WAYHAUGHT)

Sneakers Over Heels

Nicole's Porsche pulled into the car park with six minutes to spare. Several tasks now faced Waverly. To find somewhere to change into her suit. To find Perry.

"You need to hurry," Nicole advised.

Waverly stared at the bag on her lap. "Where do I..?"

"Here." Nicole grabbed the tartan rug from the backseat.

Waverly pulled the suit from the bag. No shirt! Her mother hadn't packed her white shirt. Or her heels. She looked down at comfortable Converse sneakers, her brain slowing. This was a disaster, a complete and utter disaster, and she only had herself to blame.

"I can't do this."

"You can." Nicole was already out of the car, holding up the rug. "But, you need to get a move on."

"No shirt," she squeaked.

Nicole stared at her top then her own. "You can wear mine."

Dropping the rug on the ground, Nicole began scrambling out of her shirt. Inside her suit jacket it didn't look too baggy, Nicole now in her discarded Taylor Swift tee shirt.

A long queue greeted her at the entrance. Frantic finger gesturing at Nels gained her access to the gardens. Now to find Perry. Phone out, three minutes to go, she scrolled through her emails. Where the fudge was the main office? A phone number at the bottom of his email offered a glimmer of hope.

"Perry Crofte," the voice said.

"Perry, I'm here. Where are you?"

"Who's this?"

"Waverly Earp. Ten o'clock."

"I'm in the building behind the Kitchen Café."

Legs carried her in the direction of the café, grateful for sneakers rather than running in a pair of heels. Perry was waiting for her in the lobby, arm outstretched as she entered panting. She could see him studying her attire, eyes falling on her footwear. Unable to explain, she merely shook his hand, following him to an office at the back of the building.

He hovered by the door. "Can I offer you tea, coffee?" motioning for her to take a seat.

"Tea," she replied, still catching her breath. "Peppermint please. Thank you."

Perry smiled. "Be right back."

Alone in the room she tucked part of Nicole's shirt back into her skirt, straightening her hair with her hands. It was no use, nothing about her appearance, or her breathless arrival, suggested professional, resigning herself to the fact the job was meant for someone else.

"Welcome to Heligan's," Perry said, on his return.

She accepted the mug being held out. Sat opposite, a chai latte wafting in her direction, she waited for Perry to speak.

"Let's start with you telling me a little about yourself."

"I'm from Meva. Mevagissey." Her voice faltered. "I...I studied at Exeter. History."

"I have all of that in your resumé," he said, a finger tapping the piece of paper before him. "Tell me about you."

His smile suggested he simply wanted to know the person behind the paperwork. "My family are from a long line of fisherman. My father chose to leave the sea and open the pub." She caught Perry nodding. "He could tell the future of the village wasn't fish."

"Tourism."

"We...people from this region might grumble about outsiders, but it's what keeps places like these going. Without them we'd be forced to move away."