Vivi Misti - Book 5, The Porth Kerensa Series

Flat Seven, Vivi Misti

Cam Fields

Most people presumed there was nothing interesting about Cam’s life. She came from a long line of people who had led interesting lives. They were surgeons, judges, professors and barristers; all brilliant gifted people. Cam, with her unspectacular life, was somewhat of a disappointment; a laughing stock at family functions. She took it good-naturedly, with a gentle smile and no word of defence when they teased her about her many cleaning jobs and the small attic flat she lived in. She didn’t mind them calling her a country bumpkin, or the terrible Cornish accent they used when they ribbed her.

She knew they thought she was stupid. The Cornish lilt to her voice only enforced their prejudice and they looked down their noses at her. Their posh accents made them sound privileged, but she knew that money and power had only invited more heartbreak into their lives than she’d ever experienced. Despite all their academic achievements, big houses and fancy cars, she didn’t believe any of them were truly happy.

Being the quiet wallflower of the family and easily forgotten in a crowd had made her privy to many of the whispered secrets that they tried so hard to hide. She knew which nephew was a drug dealer. She knew of her sister, Rose’s affairs. She knew of impending divorces before the spouses did. She knew which cousin was funnelling money into an offshore account and she knew that her magistrate sister, Lily, had managed to get her daughter’s DUI accidentally dropped down the back of a filing cabinet and forgotten. Nothing any of them muttered behind their hands shocked her and she never repeated any of what she had learned.

She left those family functions with easy smiles and she carried their secrets, safely inside her, back home to Vivi Misti. She knew that when she left they talked about her boring life living alone, earning a pittance cleaning up after strangers and working as a caretaker in the block of flats she lived in. They would scratch their heads and say they didn’t understand how she could prefer that kind of life, before one of them enquired where exactly mousey shy Cam would fit in amongst the intelligent respectable Fields family? The others would nod their heads sagely and agree it was just as well odd little Cam had not expected any of them to make room in their lives for her. Imagine the embarrassment of introducing her to colleagues and friends, they would say to each other before hiding their laughs behind their hands.

Cam didn’t care. None of them would understand, even if she tried to explain to them. They couldn’t comprehend the satisfaction that flooded through her when she unlocked the oak front door of Vivi Misti and stepped into the clean lobby, knowing she was finally back where she belonged.

She liked seeing Faith out in the beautiful garden Harry Sparkes had created. She loved joining Harry and Philippa out there for cream tea on an occasional afternoon. She enjoyed stopping for a quick chat with Sadie, who seemed so content and bubbling with happiness since she’d met Adam King. She was pleased Francesca Armstrong had returned home and found the courage to make a go of things with that man she’d loved for years. She was especially happy to see Michelle Barry on her balcony, tending her roses again and no longer drifting through life like a ghost of the woman she had been.

Cam knew all the residents of Vivi Misti and she loved them. She felt like the richest woman in the world when she walked through the building and was greeted with hellos and smiles. She couldn’t bear the thought of living somewhere full of strangers, surrounded by neighbours she didn’t know. She had known more love and good will from these people than she ever had from the family she’d been born into.

Only a fool would leave that kind of treasure behind.

Cam stood on her balcony and stared out across the rooftops at the ocean, rippling and shimmering in the distance. She had spent a long weekend in London, staying with her sister, Dahlia, for their nephew’s wedding. Three days in Kensington, attending the various posh get-togethers had tired her out. She had been even more aware of the differences between their lives and her own. Life in London seemed so hectic and she was exhausted from the false smiles and fake bonhomie. Even with her sisters she couldn’t relax and be herself. She had left so long ago and parried so many questions about her life that she didn’t know how to let the wall of reserve down with them.