The Cornish Cream Tea Bus

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘You don’t need to mansplain progress to me, Daniel, I get it.’ She hadn’t meant to snap, but he was as relaxed as ever and, on this occasion, probably right – which made it worse. She had been daydreaming about being the saviour of the village with her brilliant festival plan, but it was only logical that some people were sceptical. Daniel had simply been trying to bring her back down to earth.

  He grinned and leant towards her. For a moment, Charlie thought he was going to kiss her cheek, but he reached over the back of the seat and pinched one of the few remaining lemon tarts. ‘These are great, by the way,’ he said, hopping down onto the sand. ‘I can see them being part of the taster menu at Crystal Waters. We should discuss that sometime. Catch you later, Charlie.’ He disappeared in a waft of aftershave and confidence.

  Charlie turned to find Juliette watching her, a disapproving look on her face.

  Within half an hour of being at the St Agnes Head Festival, Charlie was rushed off her feet. It was her first large event since the disastrous Fair on the Field, but any fears she’d had about sinking were allayed when a smart young woman with a clipboard greeted her on arrival and directed her to the refreshments area, where various food trucks, ice-cream vans and hot-dog stands were laid out in a large semi-circle. Charlie’s was the only double-decker bus, but she felt a lot more confident than she had in Ross-on-Wye.

  Gertie wasn’t pretending to be a café any more – she was the real deal. Her journey had also been less hair-raising than it might have been. Pete had tinkered with the engine and the ride was smoother, not to mention that the lanes she’d driven down were on the large side for Cornwall, and she hadn’t got stuck in any hedges.

  While she’d been setting up, laying out her cakes and scones and uploading photos to Instagram, she’d heard a few appreciative exclamations outside, people praising Gertie’s glossiness or intrigued by her café on a double-decker bus. She even heard one person say, ‘I saw that on Facebook last week, we’ll have to check it out.’ The Cornish Cream Tea Bus, it seemed, was already getting a reputation.

  As a family arrived and she directed them upstairs, telling them she’d be up in a moment to take their order, she glanced at her watch. Juliette was joining her at lunchtime so Charlie could have a break. She could have done with her friend’s help all day, but Lawrence had surprised her that morning with two tickets to an exhibition at The Eden Project, and there was no way Charlie was going to get in the way of that. Besides, she’d single-handedly managed The Café on the Hill on more than one occasion when it was full of summer tourists. She could do this. And she would do it well if Marmite stayed asleep in his crate like a good little Yorkipoo.

  ‘That was wonderful,’ said a woman wearing a ladybird scarf, as she paid for her and her son’s cream teas. ‘You don’t often get café food at these places, and he’s getting a bit of a burger habit.’

  ‘Like cream and jam’s any healthier than burgers,’ mumbled the boy, who was excelling at being a grumpy teenager.

  ‘Having a cream tea with your mum is much more civilized than wolfing down a burger while we walk round,’ the woman countered. ‘Don’t mind him,’ she turned back to Charlie, ‘he loved it, but he can’t show a single ounce of happiness. It’s in the game plan.’ She winked, and Charlie laughed.

  ‘Understood.’ They said goodbye, and Charlie was left wondering if Jonah would ever be a sullen teenager.

  She was doing a stock-take of the items in her fridge when the bell sounded. She stood up quickly, just missing hitting her head on the counter.

  ‘Sorry,’ said a voice. ‘I didn’t know how else to get your attention.’

  ‘Is everything OK?’ Her words drifted away as she saw who the voice belonged to.

  ‘Small world, huh?’ Oliver’s smile was broad. ‘And the bus is looking much better than the last time I saw it. Very shiny and red.’

  Charlie shook his proffered hand. He was wearing a sand-coloured jacket over a black T-shirt emblazoned with The Marauding Mojito logo in mint green. ‘Oliver! I never got a chance to thank you properly, after the field.’

  Oliver laughed. ‘You say that like it was an ominous field.’

  ‘It was ominous,’ Charlie said. ‘How are you and The Marauding Mojito anyway?’

  ‘You remembered.’

  ‘Of course I did. You rescued me. But it is also on your T-shirt. What are you doing in Cornwall?’

  He shrugged. ‘I go where the work is. This festival has always been busy, cocktails are popular, and it’s not hard to spend time in this part of the world. How come you’re all the way down here? And what happened to the bus? It looks like a fairy godmother waved her wand.’

  ‘That’s fairly accurate,’ Charlie said. ‘Only the fairy godmother is called Pete, and he didn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart, but was persuaded by quite a lot of cold, hard cash.’

  ‘Aren’t they all. Got some time off? Want to come and see the rest of the fair?’

  ‘Give me half an hour? My friend should be here then and I can sneak away.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ He gave her a wide grin and sauntered off the bus.

  Forty-five minutes later, with Juliette and Lawrence in charge of The Cornish Cream Tea Bus, Charlie and Marmite went to find Oliver. He handed his apron to a man with ginger hair, and hopped down from the cocktail stand.

  ‘So,’ he said, crouching to greet a still-sleepy Marmite, ‘tell me everything. The bus, Cornwall, what happened after that fateful day. Were you banished from the Cotswolds by that woman, what was her name, Bea?’

  Charlie laughed as they fell in step. ‘No, she was kind, actually. She forced me to take a few months away from the café, and at first I was furious, but she was just looking out for me, I think. And then – for various reasons – coming to Cornwall seemed like a good idea. It was supposed to be a holiday, but God, I’ve been here nearly two months, staying with Juliette and Lawrence.’ She chewed her lip. There had been no indication that she’d outstayed her welcome, but it was much longer than they’d first anticipated. She would have to talk to them.

  ‘What various reasons?’ Oliver asked. ‘You seem to be doing a lot better than you were back then.’

  His smile was so warm, his attention so touching, that Charlie found herself telling him everything. About Hal and Stuart, about her dad’s grief and Gertie’s resurrection. They walked round the festival, which was huge and busily cheerful, with traders selling all sorts of products from organic local honey to ride-on lawnmowers to massage chairs, and the day, while not as warm as it could have been for the end of May, was crisp and sunny, the sea breeze wafting over Charlie every now and then, so that she longed to be back on Porthgolow beach, soothing her aching feet in the cool water.

  ‘So you’re a bit of a nomad, are you?’ Charlie asked once she’d got to the end of her story.

  Oliver shrugged, his hands deep in his pockets. ‘Not really. I live in Bristol, which is a great base. There are lots of places I can get to easily, and Cornwall, Devon and Somerset have enough going on to keep me busy. Are you planning to travel with your bus, or stay in this area?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ Charlie admitted. ‘But I’m organizing a festival in Porthgolow. It’s a beautiful village, but it could – oh!’ Her eye snagged on a smart logo, pale purple writing on a slate-grey background. ‘Oh,’ she said again, and came to a halt.

  Ahead of her, next to a vendor selling Jacuzzis, was a sign that read The Crystal Waters Spa Hotel. Beyond it were three large pods made out of glass and wood, with cushioned benches running round the inside and circular tables in the middle, arranged with place settings for a beautiful alfresco dinner. She had seen something similar in her mum’s John Lewis catalogue. A few thousand pounds on a mini conservatory that you could place anywhere in your garden. She hadn’t noticed any at Crystal Waters, but she could see how they would fit perfectly with the surroundings.

  ‘You OK?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘Yes, fine.’ A man
and woman were standing in front of the pods, wearing navy suits and crisp white shirts. She didn’t recognize either of them. After her initial surprise, her next emotion was disappointment.

  ‘Should we be heading back?’ Oliver pressed, touching her lightly on the arm.

  ‘Of course. Sorry, it’s just that Crystal Waters is in Porthgolow.’ She smiled at Oliver in an attempt to cover her strange reaction.

  She was about to turn away when Daniel appeared, shaking hands with the dark-suited man and woman. He was dressed casually, in a grey T-shirt, jeans and a battered leather jacket. Charlie had time to notice this before Marmite, perhaps encouraged by the familiar face, launched himself at the closest pod and the beautifully laid-out table within. Charlie froze, unable to think or move as her dog, his extendable lead whirring, set gleefully about his task, taking a matter of seconds to demolish the luxurious, and no doubt expensive, display.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Oh my God!’

  ‘What the hell?’

  ‘Whose dog is that?’

  The last exclamation, from the man in the navy suit, was surely unnecessary, Charlie thought as she raced forward and scooped Marmite into her arms, trying not to look at the pod’s now less-than-elegant display. Marmite licked her face, his tail wagging, as if he’d just achieved something magnificent. Navy Suit Woman stared at what was left of the dinner table, while the man, having found the answer to his question, strode towards her.

  Charlie shrank back, covering Marmite with her arms, but before the man could reach her, Daniel placed a hand on his chest and spoke to him in a low voice that didn’t carry. She scuttled back to Oliver’s side and saw that he was laughing silently, his hands over his mouth, his head bowed.

  ‘Not helping,’ she whispered, and had to bite down on her bottom lip so as not to be infected by his laughter.

  Navy Suit Man retreated, and Daniel approached her. His fingers were flexing at his sides and she wondered if that was some kind of calming technique, the same way Juliette had taught her how to take deep, even breaths that expanded her entire torso before reacting to a situation. She could do with a few deep breaths right now.

  ‘Daniel, I am so sorry,’ she said instead. ‘I’ll pay for any damages, of course.’ She prayed that they amounted to tablecloths and a couple of plates, and that Marmite hadn’t smashed any of the cut-glass crystal or the glass of the pod itself.

  Daniel looked from her to Marmite, then Oliver. He frowned. ‘I know you’re determined, but I hadn’t expected sabotage. I can see I’m going to have to be on my guard from now on.’

  ‘Daniel, I honestly didn’t mean for that to happen.’

  His serious expression cracked into a grin.

  ‘Wait, you’re not—?’

  ‘We’re covered for accidents at these shows,’ he said. ‘It’s probably a good idea to have one pod empty anyway, so customers can imagine something that’s more to their style. Not everyone goes in for silver cutlery and Royal Doulton.’

  ‘Royal Doulton?’ Charlie murmured. ‘Shit.’

  ‘I know. Didn’t take that into consideration when you were planning to set your dog on me, did you? You should always budget properly for attacks of vandalism. You’re lucky I’m such a generous guy.’ He glanced at Oliver, his smile slipping, and held out his hand. ‘I’m Daniel Harper, owner of The Crystal Waters Spa Hotel.’

  ‘Ollie, The Marauding Mojito.’ Oliver shook his hand. ‘This all looks pretty swanky.’

  ‘It did, until Charlie came along.’ Daniel ruffled Marmite’s ears. ‘Are you and your dog always this accident prone?’

  ‘No,’ Charlie said quickly. ‘And just because my dog’s a tearaway, doesn’t mean I’m clumsy.’

  ‘The first time I met her, the bus had had a bit of an accident,’ Oliver said. ‘It was actually pretty spectacular, the way—’

  ‘We don’t need to get into that,’ Charlie said, grabbing his arm. ‘I’m sure Daniel doesn’t have time to stand here gossiping.’

  ‘I just came to see how Mark and Ali were doing. I left Jasper in the car because I thought he might cause trouble.’ He glanced behind him, where Ali was crouched inside the pod, retrieving bits of broken crockery. ‘Clearly a precaution I needn’t have taken.’

  ‘Maybe our dogs should get together for a doggy date.’ She didn’t know why she’d said it – maybe to distract him from what Oliver had said about Gertie’s accident. She couldn’t cope with the two of them ganging up on her.

  ‘Doggy date?’ Daniel laughed, and Charlie felt her cheeks burn.

  ‘God, is that the time?’ she said. ‘I’ve left Juliette and Lawrence for far too long. Nice to see you, Daniel, sorry again about Marmite. Your pods are beautiful, by the way. I didn’t see them in the garden that time.’

  ‘They’re new,’ Daniel said. ‘Been installed a week.’

  ‘Great. Lovely. I’ll have to … drop in.’ She started to pull Oliver away.

  ‘I’m looking forward to your festival even more now,’ Daniel called, giving her a wave when she glanced behind her. She was unable to stop herself from waving back.

  ‘He’s in the village where you’re staying?’ Oliver asked, when they were out of sight of the Crystal Waters stand.

  ‘Yes, he is,’ Charlie said. ‘And he’s infuriating. He’s clearly only looking forward to my event because he thinks it’s going to be a disaster and he can watch me make a fool of myself.’

  Oliver’s brows knitted together. ‘Or because he wants to pay you back for destroying his beautifully laid-out display?’

  ‘Oh God, I hadn’t thought of that. Do you really think he’d act out some kind of retribution? He said he was insured!’

  Oliver shook his head. ‘I have no idea, but I’m glad that I’m going to be there.’

  ‘You are?’

  He gave her a warm smile. ‘If you’re having a festival in this idyllic seaside village, The Marauding Mojito needs to be a part of it. And you need to watch your back around that Daniel guy. There was something about him I didn’t trust.’

  ‘Are you really coming to my festival?’ Charlie asked.

  He nodded.

  She had her first official booking. It might actually happen: instead of her and her bus and an empty marquee that she’d forced Lawrence to promise to put up to make it look busy, she might actually have other food stalls there. One down, only about twenty more to go. ‘Thank you, Oliver,’ she said. ‘You won’t regret it, I promise.’

  She waved cheerily at Juliette as they approached the bus, and wondered what Oliver had seen in Daniel that made him wary. He was undoubtedly annoying, and he spoke his mind regardless of who it might offend. But untrustworthy? She didn’t know him well enough to determine that, so how could Oliver pass judgement? And she couldn’t ignore the skip of happiness she’d felt when Daniel had said he was looking forward to her festival. He was coming, so she needed to try even harder to make it a success. She couldn’t look like an idiot in front of Daniel Harper twice.

  Charlie poured a generous measure of wine into her and Juliette’s glasses. ‘Here’s to a first successful fair for The Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Thank you so much for helping me today, you and Lawrence. I wouldn’t have managed a whole day by myself. Or, I would have, but—’

  ‘But you wouldn’t have been able to skive off with that delicious Oliver bloke.’ Juliette clinked her glass against Charlie’s.

  ‘Delicious?’ Charlie frowned. ‘He’s not unattractive, but …’

  ‘But?’

  ‘He seems too chirpy, somehow. As if he’s a cartoon character rather than a real person.’

  ‘Says Charlie Quilter, queen of Glass Half-Full. You don’t have the right to say that anyone’s too chirpy.’

  ‘Hey! I can be miserable. I was a mess after I found out about Stuart. And then, with Hal …’ She glanced out of the pub window, watching the waves, distorted by the warped glass.

  ‘But you make the best out of everything,’ Juliette said. ‘You
’ve had some horrible stuff happen recently, but you’re not in your pyjamas watching Friends reruns, you’ve started up your own business. If you and Oliver got together you’d be a positive force to be reckoned with. If he asks you out for a drink, will you say yes?’

  Charlie nodded, absent-mindedly stroking Marmite, who was snuffling happily on the seat next to her. Oliver was good-looking, and kind – he’d sought her out twice, first to help and then to say hello. But maybe that was his nature, being friendly with other traders; one of those people who managed to build a community despite doing something transient. But she would like to see him again. He was good company – and now they had travelling food businesses in common.

  ‘I saw Daniel today,’ she said, deftly changing the subject, although her feelings about him were even less straightforward and, by the look on Juliette’s face, she wasn’t the only one. ‘He was promoting Crystal Waters, though I don’t think he was supposed to be there, he just popped in and … what is it about him, Jules? I get that he’s smug and overconfident, but that wouldn’t normally be enough for you to be so utterly opposed to someone.’

  ‘He’s selfish, and he’s shitty about everything.’

  ‘But is he really like that? What has he done, other than run a luxury hotel on the cliff and not spend a huge amount of time in the village? Marmite rushed in and destroyed a very expensive display, and he would have been well within his rights to be furious with me, or at the very least get me to pay for the damages, but he just teased me. That doesn’t fall under the banner of “shitty about everything”, so what has he done to you?’

  ‘It’s what he hasn’t done that’s the crime.’

  ‘What hasn’t he done, then? God, Jules, don’t be so exasperating!’

  ‘He didn’t use me for his marketing, OK?’ Juliette made a low growl in the back of her throat, shook her head and offered Charlie a weak smile. ‘Sorry, but it makes me so mad. Still. It was just after we’d moved here. I heard that he was going to rebrand everything, so I put myself forward. It was a huge contract, very well paid, and it was stuff I could really do well. I was excited about it. Coming up with a new logo, revamping their website. Daniel wanted a complete overhaul and we had this meeting, and I basically thought it was a done deal. And then, a week later, I got this terse, professional email saying that he’d gone with someone else, that he was very sorry but he wouldn’t be using me.’