Could Charlie really leave Porthgolow? Leave her food market to carry on into autumn, attracting more vendors and customers, but without The Cornish Cream Tea Bus at the centre? She tried to imagine it, and found that she couldn’t.
While she waited for her trading consent to be reinstated, she had planned to spend her time baking, devising new, delicious cakes and pastries to serve, to take the cream teas for her tours to new culinary heights. And she still would, she decided, spurring herself into action and returning to her bowl of cake batter. She wasn’t gone yet.
‘You can’t run Cornish Cream Tea Tours on your Cornish Cream Tea Bus if you’re not in Cornwall,’ Juliette said half an hour later, once Charlie had updated her on her conversation with Bea.
Charlie gave her third and final cake mix a gentle fold, and then poured it into the tin. ‘So I’ll have a name change. The Cotswold Cream Tea Bus works just as well.’
‘You wouldn’t!’ Juliette was acting as if Charlie had committed treason.
‘I can’t live with you and Lawrence for ever, Jules. This isn’t my home. You have been so, so generous letting me stay here. It’s beyond the bounds of even the closest friendship.’
‘It is not—’
‘And Bea wants me back. She’s excited about what we can do at the café. And on the bus.’
‘And you sound equally thrilled,’ Juliette replied sarcastically.
‘I hadn’t thought about it, that’s all. I’ve been so tied up with everything here.’ She waved her spatula around and a bit of cake mix landed on Ray’s head. He stared at her accusingly.
‘That’s because things here are better.’
‘You and Lawrence need your own space, and I have to think seriously about what I’m doing next.’
She could still hear Bea’s enthusiastic voice in her ear and wondered how her mum and dad were really doing without her. They always seemed happy on the phone, but how would she know for certain unless she saw them? Maybe it was time to go back: maybe her trading consent being revoked and the mess with Oliver and Daniel were signs that she’d outstayed her welcome here. The Porthgolow food market would remain, but it could run perfectly well without her there.
‘I understand that.’ Jules wrapped Charlie in a hug. ‘Just don’t be too rash with your decision. For what it’s worth, I love having you here, and can barely imagine the place without you in it. Also, I don’t think it’s right that you’re taking on this Mary Poppins role! Sweeping in, fixing the village with your food market and sweeping out again. I might have to confiscate all your umbrellas – and your bus keys, for that matter. If Gertie can’t leave, then neither can you. Besides,’ she added, giving Charlie a fierce look, ‘you still need to talk to Daniel.’
Charlie stared at the hob, the drifts of flour where she had been less than careful with her ingredients. She made a pattern with her finger. ‘I know that,’ she muttered. She still had to find out who was responsible for her bus being taken out of action, but the thought of seeing Daniel again, after he’d left her with that kiss burning through her, set her emotions spinning.
‘You’ll get to see him at the meeting tomorrow, anyway,’ Juliette added.
Charlie rolled her eyes. The WhatsApp message had pinged onto her phone that morning, encouraging everyone to attend an urgent meeting and asking whether, as she couldn’t open Gertie to paying customers, Charlie would be happy to host it. ‘Any idea what Myrtle wants?’
‘Nope,’ Juliette said. ‘But it’s bound to be something important.’
‘Bound to be,’ Charlie echoed. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach as she opened the oven door. Not even the delicate waft of a cooked-to-perfection lemon drizzle cake could lift her spirits.
Everyone was there. Juliette and Lawrence, Rose, Frank and Hugh, the entire Kerr family – including Jem in her buggy and Jonah sitting poised with a pen and notepad. Myrtle had bustled on board, all business, and Lauren had sneaked in and sat at the back, her white shirt and dark skirt in stark contrast to all the colourful T-shirts and shorts of the other villagers.
Anton and Stella had been first to arrive, offering Charlie beaming smiles that made her feel slightly unsettled, as if they knew something she didn’t and, just as she was serving pots of tea and laying plates of her lemon drizzle cake on the downstairs tables, Reenie appeared.
‘Reenie Teague, as I live and breathe.’ Hugh stood up to greet her.
‘I’m not the queen,’ she said, though she was smiling as she accepted his peck on the cheek.
Charlie looked at all the expectant faces and wiped her sweaty palms down her skirt. But this wasn’t her gig; today she wouldn’t be the one offering suggestions, trying to change the way things were run in Porthgolow. It didn’t stop her being nervous. Maybe whoever had gone to the council was watching and would try to get her shut down permanently this time. She had got in touch with the licensing department just in case, confirming she was entitled to use Gertie for private, unpaid events once Myrtle had asked her to host the meeting. She wasn’t taking any chances. But was that why Daniel wasn’t here? Was he worried about being seen on board a condemned bus? She took a deep breath and leaned against the kitchen counter.
Myrtle cleared her throat. ‘Thank you, all, for comin’ today,’ she started. She had her hands clasped together in front of her, and Charlie thought that she might not be the only nervous person on board.
‘What’s this about, Myrtle?’ Hugh asked. ‘Are we here to find out what’s happened to Gertie, why someone is threatening the food market?’
‘The market is safe,’ Charlie said. ‘I won’t be able to take part tomorrow, but that doesn’t stop everyone else. It’s only my bus that can’t trade.’ She had pulled the notice off the door the day after it had appeared. Not that that would reinstate her consent – and it certainly hadn’t stopped the Porthgolow rumour mill from getting hold of the news – but she hadn’t wanted to leave it there for everyone to gawp at. Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, she couldn’t help feeling ashamed.
‘I could be a spy,’ Jonah said, raising his hand. ‘Follow the clues, do some digging. You like Bond films, don’t you, Lawrence? Do you want to team up?’ There was a smattering of laughter.
‘Sounds grand, Jonah mate,’ Lawrence said. ‘Let’s talk about it later.’
‘What has happened to Charlie’s bus is a – a travesty.’ Myrtle bristled. ‘When will you be up and running again, d’you know?’
Charlie was momentarily stunned into silence. ‘A few days, I think. I’ve got my inspection on Monday and so as long as that goes well, I should get my consent back straight away.’
‘Good, good. You can’t keep a Porthgolow maid down, that’s what I say. Which means our plan can still go ahead. A three-day food market for the August bank holiday.’
Rose and Frank nodded energetically and Stella gave Charlie a wide, pretty grin.
Charlie gasped, her eyes shooting to Juliette, but her friend looked as surprised as she felt.
‘That’s a grand idea,’ Hugh said. ‘It’s been going so well. Makes sense to end the summer with a bang.’
‘But it’s not the end,’ Amanda piped up. ‘We don’t want it to just be a summer thing. It’ll be harder in the winter, of course, but we were thinking we could hold them once a month in the off-season. There are foodie treats more suited to autumn and then, of course, there’s Christmas. We’ve done some research on other markets. Well, when I say we, it’s all been Jonah.’ She held out a folder and Charlie took it, peering inside at the sheaves of paper covered in photos and information.
‘You want it to continue?’ she asked.
‘I know I’ve not always been the easiest to get on with,’ Myrtle said, ‘but there’s no denying it’s brought life to this place. Bill was singin’ its praises, and I’ve, uh, sampled a few bits, here ’n’ there.’
‘The market is wonderful, Charlie,’ Anton said. ‘There’s no way we could stop it now.’
‘Best t
hing to come to Porthgolow for a long time,’ Rose agreed, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
Charlie felt the sting of tears. She couldn’t quite take it in. She caught Reenie’s eye and the older woman smiled back at her: a knowing, smug little smile that made Charlie want to hug her.
‘You think everyone will be on board for three whole days?’ she asked. ‘It’s a lot of work. A lot of effort.’
‘Don’t be so negative, cheel,’ Myrtle chided gently. ‘We’re all goin’ to help. We’ll promote it where we can, spruce the village up a bit in preparation. I’ve cleaned tables in my time, so you won’t be on your own in the bus if you don’t want to be.’
‘Benji’s going to create a special Porthgolow burger,’ Jonah piped up. ‘We’re already looking at sauces and recipes. Maybe you could come up with some new cakes, Charlie? Just for that weekend. Like a bank holiday special or something?’
She nodded. ‘I could certainly give it a go, Jonah.’
‘And I’ve been brewing my own ale for a while,’ Hugh said. ‘I could see about having a stand out here on a Saturday. Nothing fancy, mind, but I could launch it on the bank holiday, then sell it in the pub, too. I’ve been inspired by all those artisan brewers with beards and no socks.’ He laughed. ‘I want to be a part of it.’
‘You’ve made such a huge difference, Charlie,’ Amanda said. ‘We want you to know that we appreciate it, that what you’re doing here has changed Porthgolow, and we hope it never ends.’ A lower-deck full of heads nodded back at her and Charlie smiled, even though her eyes were swimming.
Could she really leave this – all these wonderful people – behind, and go back to Bea and Ross-on-Wye?
‘It hasn’t just been me,’ she said, finding her voice. ‘It couldn’t have happened without you – without all of your support. That first meeting wasn’t … well, it wasn’t quite as unanimous as this one,’ she added, laughing, ‘but I still felt encouraged to give it a go.’
She realized then that both she and Daniel had been right. She had needed to show everyone that it could work; that she could turn the empty beach into a thriving hub of activity, but she would never have had the courage to try if everyone had been against it from the start.
‘You were brave,’ Reenie said. ‘You put yourself out there, even though you knew it was a risk.’
Charlie nodded. ‘I did, but—’
‘It’s about time I was brave, too. Let everyone in on my little secret. As you’re all here, now seems like the perfect time.’
‘Reenie,’ Charlie started, ‘you don’t have—’
‘The mermaid thing!’ Jonah jumped out of his chair. ‘You’re going to announce that you’re a mermaid, and bring all your mermaid friends up from the sea to say hello.’
‘Holy mother o’ God,’ Myrtle murmured.
Hugh’s usually pale face went red, and Amanda and Paul couldn’t have looked more embarrassed if Jonah had swept their table clear and climbed on top of it to dance the Macarena.
‘Darling boy,’ Reenie said, ‘if you continue to perpetuate this mermaid myth, then your younger sisters are going to grow up to be very confused individuals.’
‘So … you’re not a mermaid, then?’ Jonah looked genuinely confused, and Charlie’s heart went out to him.
‘No, my love. I am not. But I do have something I can contribute to this bank holiday market.’
‘Unicorns are real, though,’ Flora interjected.
‘That, young lady, is a discussion for another day. No, my contribution is twenty thousand Instagram followers, and my willingness to promote this event on my account in any way you so desire.’
‘What on earth?’ Myrtle asked.
‘What did you just say, Reenie?’ Stella took another piece of lemon cake.
‘Twenty thousand Instagram followers,’ Hugh said. ‘That’s no mean feat.’
‘I have one hundred and four,’ Jonah declared proudly.
‘You’re too young to be on Instagram,’ Reenie said, and shook her head at Paul and Amanda, who had begun to look as if hiding under the table might be their only option.
As Reenie explained about the Porthgolow Hideaway account, everyone got their phones out to see for themselves, as if somehow by viewing it with this new knowledge, they would be able to find a previously hidden selfie of Reenie standing in front of her cottage for all the world to see.
Charlie got milk out of the fridge, desperate for a cappuccino even though it was gone seven in the evening. She hadn’t thought to bring wine, though it would have been perfectly acceptable in this private gathering. She barely noticed the chatter stop, and almost missed Juliette’s sharp intake of breath, but then a slender hand clutched her arm, and Charlie turned to her friend and then followed her gaze to the doorway.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Daniel said, glancing at Lauren. ‘I got held up.’
Charlie took in his dark jeans and navy hoodie, the way his hair had clearly fought a battle with the wind. It was the first time she’d seen him since their encounter at the jetty.
‘Oh Daniel,’ Reenie said, rising and holding her arms out. He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Reenie’s face was flushed with pleasure, and Charlie could see how close they were; perhaps Daniel had partly replaced her distant son, whom she saw only via computer screen. ‘Better late than never, though this is a rather important meeting for you to be rocking up so late.’
Charlie hid her smile, inexplicably happy that he didn’t escape Reenie’s gentle chiding.
‘I know, and I’m really sorry. How did our plan go down? What do you think about a bank holiday food market, Charlie?’
Charlie could tell that he wasn’t as relaxed as usual; there was a nervous energy about him she wasn’t used to. ‘I think it’s a great plan,’ she said. ‘A perfect way to end the summer.’
‘Good.’ He leaned against the back of the bench Reenie was sitting on, his arms folded over his chest, and listened to Myrtle – and Hugh, Amanda, Stella and Jonah – recap what he’d missed, even though, from the sound of it, he’d been in on the idea from the beginning. He showed genuine surprise – and amusement – that Reenie was responsible for the Porthgolow Hideaway account.
Charlie allowed her gaze to drift over his arms, taking in the definition of his biceps, visible despite the hoodie, the length of his legs, his blue Converse, the way an unruly wave of his hair had fallen over his forehead and he’d left it there. She felt the churning, low in her stomach, that appeared whenever she thought of Daniel, ten times stronger now that she was in his presence.
‘OK?’ Juliette whispered. ‘Only the milk’s about to overflow.’
‘Oh fuck,’ Charlie shouted, as the boiling milk she’d been absent-mindedly frothing bubbled to the lip of the jug and cascaded over her fingers.
Juliette took the jug away, turned on the cold tap and pulled Charlie’s hand under it.
‘Is our fearless leader OK?’ Reenie asked.
‘I’m fine,’ Charlie called, glad that she could stand next to the sink and hide her flaming cheeks.
‘A minor milk scald, nothing more,’ Juliette confirmed. ‘So everything’s settled, then? We’re all on board for the bank holiday weekend? Three whole days of eventing! Porthgolow won’t know what’s hit it.’
There were murmurs of assent, whoops and cheers and general jubilation. Daniel stood up and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Lauren,’ he said. ‘Could I have a word with you, outside?’
He’d spoken quietly, but it wasn’t the ideal place to have a private conversation. The bus fell silent and everyone’s eyes swivelled in Lauren’s direction.
She sat up straighter, her gaze wary. ‘Shouldn’t we wait until the meeting’s finished?’
‘Just a quick word,’ Daniel said. ‘It won’t take long.’
Lauren relaxed into her seat, but her hands were fidgeting on the table. ‘I think we should finish up here first. If this three-day market is really going to happen, then we need to know all the
facts so we can manage its impact on the hotel. We don’t want to miss anything important.’
‘We won’t,’ Daniel said. ‘But I do need to talk to you, quite urgently.’
Lauren shook her head. Charlie was shocked to see her eyes were glistening. Something cold and hard lodged itself under her ribcage.
Daniel rubbed his jaw. ‘Listen, I—’
‘She did it, didn’t she?’ Myrtle said quietly. ‘That’s why you want to talk to her, and she won’t come. Because she knows what you’re goin’ to say.’
‘Did what?’ Hugh asked, as Lauren stared at the table.
‘Went to the council.’ Myrtle curled her thin fingers into fists. ‘She called the council and got Charlie’s bus shut down.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The silence that followed was thick with shock.
‘She didn’t,’ Amanda murmured. ‘Lauren, you didn’t, did you?’ She looked at Daniel.
He sighed and sank back onto the edge of the bench. ‘Although you know about the bus losing its consent, what you probably don’t know, because someone took the notice down pretty quickly, is that it stated that the proprietor of Crystal Waters had raised the petition against it.’
‘Holy shit,’ Paul muttered. There were murmurs of consternation and confusion around the bus.
‘But I didn’t do this to Charlie,’ Daniel continued. ‘I care about her far too much to have put her business in jeopardy.’ Everyone fell quiet at that and Daniel stared at the floor. When he looked up, his eyes found Charlie’s and his expression softened. ‘I’ve been doing some digging,’ he said. ‘It turns out the council can be very tight-lipped, even when you’re supposedly the person who submitted the form. But I’ve just come back from Truro, where I was shown the full petition, the false evidence used to put the claim in, some made-up bullshit about the bus not following health-and-safety guidelines. And it was all submitted by Lauren Purview, apparently on my behalf.’
The Cornish Cream Tea Bus Page 26
