Summer at the Cornish Cafe

by Phillipa Ashley

  I’ve just reached the car park at Kilhallon again when my phone beeps with a text. Shortly after, the Land Rover pulls onto the gravel, stopping with a crunch.

  When Cal climbs out of the car, he finds me grinning like an idiot at my phone.

  ‘What are you so happy about?’ he asks.

  I hold up the screen to him. ‘Good news. Robyn just texted to tell me that they’ve told your uncle they want to move in together.’

  ‘Wow. That’s brave but I’m glad for them. How did it go?’

  ‘Robyn says he didn’t turn cartwheels but he didn’t hit the roof or throw her out. She said he didn’t even seem that shocked.’

  ‘To be honest it doesn’t surprise me, but I am relieved. He’s not perfect by a long shot, but Uncle Rory’s a decent bloke at heart and he loves Robyn to bits.’

  ‘Robyn said he went very quiet, and didn’t try to interfere. He might even have been relieved that the truth had come out. I’m so happy for her and Andi. I can’t believe it. Can you?’

  ‘It happens, Demi.’ His smile lights up his eyes. He looks years younger and my stomach does a little flip. No matter how much I try, I can’t help the way I feel about him.

  ‘There’s more. Mawgan has agreed to let Andi and Robyn have one of the Cade’s vacant flats near to the college.’

  ‘She must have had a change of heart. Or a complete change of personality! I guessed someone really does have something over the Cades for them to back off from hassling us, but with Andi and Robyn, well, she must have some shred of humanity and sense in her after all.’

  ‘Maybe a shred.’ I move the subject on. ‘You know, I’m as happy for the girls’ good luck as I am for us.’

  ‘I’ll call Robyn later and find out more,’ he says. ‘But first, can you guess where I’ve been?’

  ‘No idea.’

  By his grin, Cal looks as if he’s about to go pop with pride. ‘I went to the DIY shed in Penzance and then to the salvage yard at Helston again. I got some fantastic old settles for your cafe. They’re in the Land Rover. You can help me unload the stuff from the yard. Why are you standing there like you’ve been struck dumb? Aren’t you even a tiny bit excited that you’re going to need them?’

  Realisation dawns. ‘What? I mean, you mean the cafe’s definitely going ahead after all?’

  ‘Dave Patterson called me while I was in Helston, and he’s on board financially again, which changes everything. When we get planning permission, and I’m sure we will now that Mawgan’s withdrawn her objections, you’d better start to plan a launch event. We need to get word out fast that Kilhallon Park is alive and well, and back on track.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The council passed Cal’s new planning application at their next meeting and the building work on the park has started again. With Dave Patterson’s investment in the park and the planning appeal resolved, everything seemed possible.

  It’s not all roses. Robyn’s still refusing to speak to Luke and Cal has hinted to me that there are sure to be other, possibly bigger, battles with the Cades.

  ‘Which makes it even more important for us to make Kilhallon a success,’ he told me. ‘We need to start the cash flowing as soon as possible.’

  I can’t believe August is already almost three weeks old, but time flies by when you’re as busy as we are. Cal and the builders are pulling out all the stops to get at least some of the site finished and I’ve thrown myself headlong into organising a promotional event to let the world know what we have to offer. It’s time for us all to move on to the next stage in our lives, if we can.

  I’ve been up at dawn and in bed not long before, on some nights, researching prospects, sending out invites, cold calling potential guests – I never thought I’d dare – and persuading them that Kilhallon is worth a visit. I’ve barely had time to see my friends or go out with them although they’ve offered to help out at the launch day.

  Now there’s less than forty-eight hours to go to the launch, and I’m racing around St Trenyan picking up extra bunting, plastic plates and cleaning stuff. While passing the alley behind the surf cafe, I spot Sheila taking rubbish to the bins and realise I haven’t spoken to her for ages. Her hair is shorter and highlighted. It suits her.

  The cafe itself is packed despite the cloudy skies and choppy sea. A young guy with blond dreadlocks and an older woman, both of whom I don’t recognise, are serving on the terrace. Business must be going OK if Sheila can take on extra staff for the summer season. We’re going to need more help at Kilhallon when we open too, I’ve realised that in the past few weeks. I’ll be in charge of them, which is scary.

  Sheila walks in through the rear door of the cafe and I follow her. She scrubs her hands with antibac soap. I notice her niece, Kayla, adding tiny pots of clotted cream and jam to plates of scones, arranging them so they look perfect.

  ‘Hello, Sheila.’

  She glances up, frowns momentarily then breaks into a huge grin. ‘Demi! What a surprise!’

  She wipes her hands on some paper towels.

  ‘I don’t want to stop you from working.’

  She hugs me until I can barely breathe. ‘You’re not. It’s the post-lunch lull so I can spare a few minutes. I need a break too.’

  Kayla says a quick hello and calls the cream-teas order to the young waiter.

  Sheila ushers me into the tiny staffroom off the kitchen.

  ‘So, how are things at Kilhallon? I heard on the grapevine that it’s all systems go up there.’

  ‘It is now.’

  ‘I heard you were doing well now. It’s the talk of the town.’

  I hug her. ‘If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Cal and got the job.’

  ‘Glad to help. I’m very happy for you, love, and working for him can’t be all bad. I’ve seen him around town a couple of times and I remember him from before he went away.’ She winks. ‘Hot stuff.’

  I shake my head and hope my blush doesn’t betray me. ‘Are the Cades still giving you trouble?’

  ‘Funnily enough, they’ve backed off a bit recently. I was expecting a rent rise last month but it hasn’t come yet.’ She smiles grimly. ‘I don’t doubt it will, though, but until then, I’m making the most of the good weather. I’ve been able to take on some extra help and as long as the rent doesn’t get hiked, I should be able to keep the new staff on.’

  ‘That’s great. Maybe the Cades have other things on their minds than squeezing their tenants?’

  ‘Hmm. Pigs might fly, but rumour has it that the Cades got their fingers burned over a new development recently. A few of their tenants in town have told me that they haven’t heard from them for a while either, which is a good thing, believe me. Let’s hope they’ve had a wake-up call.’

  ‘Mmm. I hope so too.’

  ‘Do you want a drink? There’s some quiche left over from lunch too.’

  ‘Love to but I can’t stay. We’re holding a promo event the day after tomorrow to try and drum up some publicity for the new resort. We’re planning to have a cafe on the site.’

  ‘Good luck with that.’ She smiles wryly but then adds, ‘Ignore me. It’s a brilliant idea and a great location. I’m sure it’ll do very well and anything that brings more people into the area to spend their money has to be good.’

  ‘Yes … I don’t think we’ll be competing, and actually I might need some extra help with sourcing the baked goods if it takes off. I wondered if you might like to be a supplier for the pasties and scones because we can’t always make our own?’

  ‘Me? Of course, I would!’ She grins.

  ‘Well, it’s early days yet but I’ll be in touch when we’re up and running.’

  ‘My, my, you have come on. I’m proud of you.’ She looks like she’s about to cry for a different reason and I feel like welling up too. She reminds me a little of my mum, who would have been about the same age. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hug her.

  ‘If you can get away, will you come to the launch?’ />
  ‘I’d love to, but it’s a busy time … I promise I’ll do my very best and thanks for the opportunity to supply your business.’

  ‘It’s Cal’s business, really, but thanks.’

  After leaving Sheila, I feel ten feet tall and really happy to have seen her again. I would have loved to have stayed with Sheila but I have a hundred things to do and buy. I wonder how Polly is getting on with baking the scones and the pasties. Most of it is in the freezer but we need more. I hope the barn won’t leak if it rains. In fact, hope it won’t rain at all. I want Kilhallon to look amazing. What if Mitch attacks another dog? He isn’t aggressive but it is his territory and …

  Just as I walk out of the alley into Fore Street, I spot Tamsin, carrying two large cardboard boxes, one on top of the other. She can’t see above them and weaving in and out of the tourists is almost impossible at this time of year. She almost goes over on her ankle in the cobbled gutter and the boxes wobble, but I manage to grab one before it falls onto the street.

  ‘Hi. Do you need a hand?’ I say, taking the box.

  Tamsin sighs in relief. ‘Thanks. I thought I was going to end up on my bum in front of the emmets for a minute! I was just on my way from my car to the spa with a new delivery of products.’

  ‘Lucky I was here.’

  ‘Thanks!’

  Tamsin smiles. She’s super pretty with English-rose skin and bouncy, jet-black hair. Bouncy everything, in fact. Her make-up is perfect, even in the middle of the day, but very subtly done. I guess it’s her job to look great, but I’m still very aware of my broken nails, tatty jeans and unwashed hair that hasn’t seen a brush for days.

  ‘I’m glad I bumped into you. I was really glad to hear that the park’s going ahead.’

  ‘Me too. Sorry, I haven’t taken you up on the trial treatment offer but we’ve been so tied up in work … do you want a hand to carry this lot back to the spa?’

  ‘Good idea, thanks.’

  We start to thread our way through the throng of shoppers and tourists. There are families with children everywhere now that it’s high season and it’s a nerve-wracking game for any of the delivery vans trying to make their way down the narrow street to reach the shops.

  ‘How’s Cal?’ Tamsin asks me as we squeeze past the queue outside one of the ice-cream parlours.

  ‘Um. He’s OK. It’s a busy time. I’ve got tons to do for the Kilhallon Park launch event.’

  ‘Sounds like a great idea. I heard a bit about it from Robyn Penwith. I saw her in the canteen at the college. I give lectures in beauty therapy at the college as well as running the spa.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Keeps me out of trouble.’ She laughs, and I realise how much I like her. ‘My salon’s just up this side street.’

  We turn off the main drag into a lane, between rows of fisherman’s cottages, that’s so narrow you could almost touch the sides. There’s instant calm after the bustling shopping area and you can even hear the surf breaking on the beach. Tamsin leads me into a tiny but very pretty courtyard. A smart, pale-blue door is set in the whitewashed stone walls of her building and flanked by pewter tubs filled with hot-pink geraniums the same colour as her perfect nails. She puts the box down and takes mine, then finds her door key.

  ‘Here’s the spa. Do you want to come in?’

  ‘I shouldn’t, really. I’m so busy.’

  ‘Hmm.’ She eyes me up and down. ‘So the launch is on Friday?’

  ‘Yes …’

  ‘So there’ll be lots of important people there? Potential clients? The press?’

  ‘Oh, God, yes, plus travel bloggers, someone from the government and a celebrity food writer. There’s so much to do to get ready and to be honest, I’ve no idea what I’m going to say to them.’

  Tamsin looks at me intently. ‘What are you going to wear?’

  ‘I’ve got a new denim mini and a branded polo shirt … other than that, I haven’t had time to even think about it.’

  She tuts. ‘You should. Tell you what, why don’t you spend the next fifteen minutes having that trial treatment? I’ll do your nails for you and give you some make-up tips and free samples.’

  Glancing at my nails again, I realise she’s right and that it might do me good to chill out for a short while. ‘OK, thanks.’ I smile. ‘I’ll call it an investment in myself but I don’t think I should wear polish because I’ll have food to prepare.’

  ‘No problem. I can still do a shape, file and moisturise. If you’re meeting VIPs, you’ll be shaking hands and you’ll want yours to look good. I promise you, you’ll feel a lot more confident, especially if your hands are going to be in the photographs.’

  Five minutes later, I’m sitting in a tasteful grey leatherette chair in one of the spa treatment rooms, while Tamsin massages orange-scented cream into my hands and arms. Delicious smelling candles burn and soft music plays.

  ‘So, how is Cal, really?’ Tamsin asks, pushing back my cuticles with a wooden stick. I wonder if this is partly why she’s got me in here: to have a gossip about Cal.

  ‘He’s busy but doing OK, I think. Better than when he first came home.’

  ‘I saw him in town the other day and he looked well fit. Mind you, he looked good even when he was a teenager and the other lads still had spots and bum fluff on their chins. He just isn’t my type but we’ve always been on friendly terms.’

  ‘Were you at school with him, then?’

  ‘We go back, like forever. Him, Luke, Mawgan, Isla and me, all went to the same school. Cal and I were even in the same year.’

  She cleans and files my nails. I cringe at the ragged edges and manky cuticles and the grazed knuckles from shifting junk in the barn. But she magics the dry skin away with the cream and some cuticle oil and starts to work a miracle.

  ‘I’m going to buff your nails now, so they shine without you needing any polish.’

  She switches on an electronic buffer and works more miracles on my nails. ‘I’m glad things are going well for Cal,’ she says. ‘After losing his mum and dad and working in such a dangerous place for the charity, he deserves some good luck. I’m not sure what happened to him out there. Robyn told me he was in a remote place and couldn’t contact her or Isla for a while but there’s something he’s not telling us. Any of us.’

  ‘I have been wondering myself, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it. I think he saw some horrific and painful things,’ I say, wary of discussing too much personal information about Cal but also intrigued to hear someone else’s perspective.

  ‘Or can’t talk about it.’ Tamsin is intent on my last nail; I think she deliberately isn’t looking at my face. ‘So, that’s why he seemed pretty screwed up when he got back, and then there’s the Isla thing. Who can blame him? Isla Channing is so nice and classically beautiful and clever and successful …’

  Go on, torture me some more, I think.

  ‘She is,’ I say, through gritted teeth, not feeling quite so chilled out any more.

  ‘Yeah, but I always thought she was a bit of an ice maiden, to be honest. I never reckoned she was right for Cal. Too buttoned-up. Too perfect. He needs someone who’ll stand up to him, someone to be a spark to his flame.’

  ‘I thought she was the love of his life,’ I say, wondering who the spark refers to.

  ‘Maybe, they were into each other at school and afterwards but things were always pretty ropey between them when he went to uni, and when he quit. Then she was away from Cornwall a lot with her TV job and of course his work took him abroad. They say he should have married her before he left, though I’m not sure it would have lasted. If you ask me, Cal put Isla on a pedestal while he was away and made her into some kind of goddess. It must have been a hell of shock to find out she was human.’

  ‘You really think that?’

  She smiles. ‘Well, I can’t imagine her helping to run a caravan site.’

  ‘Caravan site?’ I feign horror. ‘It’s an eco-friendly boutique holi
day destination.’

  She laughs. ‘That sounds more like Isla but I can’t actually imagine her unblocking the loos.’

  ‘I hope I won’t be either, though I suspect we’ll all have to muck in when it opens.’

  ‘Isla is a genuinely nice person and I like Cal but I don’t think he’s a long-term prospect for any woman. Not that you’re looking for that, or me. Way too much fun to be had first.’

  ‘Obviously.’ I laugh, guessing Tamsin’s warning me off Cal, not that I need any warnings and she’s so right: there is way too much fun to be had first. I’m far too young to be even thinking about getting involved with anyone and Cal’s quite a bit older than me. She’s not really cheering me up, though.

  She applies a drop of oil to each nail as a finishing touch and peers at them with a critical frown then smiles. ‘There. You’re almost done. Try to avoid any more hard labour before the launch event’s over and make sure you keep using that hand cream I’ll give you.’

  Knowing the first part might be tricky, I promise anyway. ‘I will. Thanks, Tamsin.’

  ‘Pleasure. And if any of your guests want a treatment, you know where to send them. I’ll try to make the launch. It sounds like fun and maybe we could go out for a drink sometime? My brother-in-law runs a great cocktail bar by the old lifeboat station. We could give his new bar menu a trial.’

  ‘Sounds great. I’ll see you at the launch, then.’

  Tamsin sends me away with some samples and says she’ll bring a stack of her leaflets and business cards to the promo event. I manage to get everything I wanted in one go from the party store on Fore Street so I’m not so late after all, despite my manicure. Cal won’t notice my nails, of course, and I did it for me not him – but Tamsin was right: I could use every possible boost to my confidence.

  On my way back to the harbour car park, I try to take in all she said, wondering what of it is accurate and what just gossip. That’s when I see them: walking along the harbour past the cafe where Cal first took me. He’s tall and serious and hot, and she’s wearing a floaty white dress and has her hair piled up on her head like a goddess.