Summer at the Cornish Cafe

by Phillipa Ashley

  Mitch scampers off across the field, driven mad by the scents left by yesterday’s doggy intruders. He hardly knows what trails to sniff first. The sun is out, though the sky’s a washed-out blue compared to yesterday’s deep colour, but Kilhallon is just as beautiful to me. In fact, the peace and silence are more intense and wonderful than ever.

  I wonder if Cal fancies taking a picnic down to the cove? It’ll be busy as it’s Sunday but we know a few secret spots you can reach through the gorse. I could rustle up something from the leftovers in the fridge. We could open a bottle of fizz.

  In the yurt field, the tents are still zipped up tight and the campfire is a pit of grey ash, stirred into a cloud by the wind. The sea sparkles like a tiara as families carry their buckets and spades and body boards along the coast path to the beach. Some of them linger by the stone barn that will become ‘my’ cafe, wondering what it will be, and I want to scream for joy.

  My cafe. OK, Cal’s cafe, but I’ll be running it and responsible for it being a success. It’s actually going to happen. I wish my mum could be here to see this. I want to tell her, and my Nana Jones. I want to remember them even if it makes me cry but Cal would understand. That’s why I love him, because he understands me without me saying anything, without him saying anything back. We don’t have to speak, we just know.

  An unknown number flashes up on my phone. I’m in two minds whether to answer it but it could be Cal, I suppose. He might have broken down and had to use a public box.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Demi! Good Morning!’ I hold the phone an inch from my ear.

  ‘Hello, Eva.’

  ‘Have you recovered from yesterday yet?’

  ‘Just about. I think.’ I hope I’m making sense, I’m so shocked to hear from her this soon.

  ‘Oh, is that Mitch I can hear?’

  ‘Yes, I’m out walking with him on the coast path.’

  ‘How divine! I can picture you both now, strolling through the meadows with the waves crashing against the cliffs. Bliss.’ She heaves a big sigh. ‘How I wish I was there but alas, I’m slaving away. On a Sunday morning! Get me. Now, listen, my lovely, I’ve been speaking to my editor on the Sunday supplement and she practically drooled down the phone at the idea of featuring you in their lifestyle section.’

  ‘A Sunday supplement?’

  ‘Yes, darling. Those magazines with all the leaflets that come out with the big papers.’

  ‘I know what one is, but …’

  ‘That’s not all. I’ve got another editor who wants to have you in her Day in the Life feature in her upmarket coastal magazine and I might – don’t get your hopes up – get you onto Country Days. My son-in-law is a friend of the producer and when he heard me raving about you last night, he said he might send a film crew down there.’

  ‘Me on the TV?’

  ‘Possibly on the TV. You and Cal, and Mitch, of course.’

  My mind reels. ‘I – don’t know what to say.’

  ‘You don’t have to because I’ve already said “yes” to everything, I thought you wouldn’t mind. Now, we’ll have to get cracking if we’re going to hit the deadlines for the Sunday supplement and the mag so I’ve arranged to send a photographer and stylist down this week. I’ve checked out the forecast and it looks good for Tuesday afternoon so they’ll be there at two. OK?’

  ‘I ought to ask Cal first.’

  ‘Oh, he won’t mind, I’m sure.’ Eva breezes on. ‘I’ll cc him in on the email but I’m sure he’s got enough on his rugged hands as it is, with the build. He won’t have to worry about a thing because we’ll take care of everything. We’ll bring the clothes and the props.’

  ‘Clothes and props?’ I realise I’m starting to sound like a parrot but Eva is sweeping me along like a tornado.

  ‘Of course, sweetheart. My editor friend thought we’d combine the shoot with a fashion feature. The mag has a big advertiser who rocks the coastal/country vibe so I thought: why not kill two birds with one stone? You’ll get to dress up in some gorgeous things, darling, and I know with your figure and that amazing hair, you’ll look stunning. Not to mention Cal – do you think he’ll mind us styling him a little? He’s magnificent raw material, of course, but with a little more tweaking, we’ll have the yummy mummies of the Home Counties fighting each other to have him light their campfires for them.’

  I blank out the part about Cal being tweaked and styled. It’s the pace that’s scaring me. ‘But we’re not ready for glamping until September and the first few cottages won’t be ready until later in September either.’

  ‘Heavens! September will be here before you can blink. Viola and Sean will see you on Tuesday. I’ll email you their numbers. I’m not sure Viola has ever been beyond the M25 so do be gentle with her, won’t you?’ Sharp yaps almost deafen me.

  ‘Betty! Betty, take that out of your mouth at once, you little horror! Sorry, I have to go, Demi, Betty’s trying to eat a frog. Woofs to Mitch! Toodleoo.’

  Mitch flops down at my feet. I think even he’s exhausted after that conversation and he didn’t hear it. Now all I have to do is let Cal know he’s got to be styled and groomed. I hope he’s in a good mood after his early morning trip.

  My mood sinks when I see Cal’s expression as I walk into the farmyard. He slams the door of the Land Rover and I decide that now isn’t the time to tell him about the fashion shoot. Mitch gives him a friendly nudge in the crotch and he manages a smile which fades as I grow nearer.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d be up yet,’ he says.

  ‘It’s almost eleven and Mitch needed walking. You must have gone out early?’

  ‘Yeah, you were asleep and I thought you needed a rest after yesterday.’

  ‘That’s very thoughtful of you. Where did you go?’

  ‘I had some stuff to do in St Trenyan.’

  ‘In St Trenyan? On a Sunday morning?’

  ‘Yeah. I went to the tip with some rubbish from yesterday.’ He sounds a bit down although he’s probably just knackered.

  ‘OK,’ I say as Mitch sniffs around the barn. ‘Are you all right?’ I ask.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘You don’t seem yourself.’

  He laughs. ‘What? Arsey? Insulting? I can be, if you like.’

  ‘You look like you have something on your mind. You’re not regretting last night, are you?’

  ‘No. Why would I do that?’

  ‘Because … I don’t know.’ He pulls me into his arms and kisses me again. My body fizzes with a mix of delight and misery that makes me want to throw up. I’ve longed for him to do the things that boyfriends and girlfriends do. Longed for him to hold me like it’s a normal thing between us. But it’s not normal and I’m reminded again that Cal can probably never be my ‘boyfriend’. The word makes me cringe. I could never tie Cal Penwith down with a name. The thing is I don’t know what will happen to us, which is exciting and terrifying.

  When he stops kissing me, I decide to take my chance.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I do have something to tell you,’ I say, seizing the moment. ‘While you were out, Eva Spero phoned. She wants to send a photographer and his um … assistant down on Tuesday to do a feature on Kilhallon for one of the big Sunday magazines. Apparently they have a deadline.’

  ‘That sounds high powered. Well, we’re too busy, of course, but we can’t pass up a chance like that.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. They want to put us in another women’s mag too and there might even be a chance of getting on the TV. I hope it was OK to accept?’

  He blows out a breath. ‘Sure. Wow. You really did make an impression on Eva. I heard she’s a tough customer under all the fluffy charm.’

  ‘She can be a bit overwhelming but she seems OK to me.’ We walk back to the farmhouse and it occurs to me that sooner or later, Polly will know something has changed between us. Should I tell Robyn? Will Cal tell Isla?

  ‘So you’ll be around on Tuesday for the shoot then?’

/>   ‘I’m doing some lime plastering on the cottages but I’ll be here if you need me. I’m sure you can handle it all on your own.’

  ‘Well, I think they were hoping you’d be in the photos too. You are the owner of Kilhallon, after all.’

  He bursts out laughing. ‘Me? No way. No one will want me breaking the camera, I can promise you that.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ‘You want me to wear what?’ Cal’s jaw drops as Viola, the stylist, holds out a dark black waistcoat and a pair of maroon jeans in front of his body.

  She arrived this morning on the overnight train from Paddington together with Sean, the photographer. I picked them and their gear up in the Land Rover so I’ve had some time to get used to them. Cal, however, is shell-shocked that he’s expected to star in the shoot.

  ‘We’re going for the retro artisan look. Like a fusion of coastal hobo and horny handed son of toil?’ Viola trills, a little hysterically. I think she’s a little afraid of Cal, though I can’t think why.

  Cal looks completely blank.

  Sean, the photographer, grins. ‘She means she wants you to look like a workman, only a Shoreditch version of a workman.’

  His jaw tightens and he wipes his dusty hands on his work overalls.

  Viola unfurls a roll of brushes and make-up. ‘And of course, you wouldn’t mind if I did a teeny bit of work on you, just for the camera? I promise you won’t be able to tell on the pictures. Just a trim of the stubble, a little tinted moisturiser, some styling wax on the ends of your curls. We can Photoshop anything else but we want max natural if poss.’

  Viola quivers like a sea lily as Cal glowers at her. ‘Tinted moisturiser?’

  ‘Of course, you’re very handsome, but in the pictures, every little flaw shows up. It would, like, only be an enhancement of your natural good looks?’

  ‘It’s for Kilhallon,’ I say, desperate to laugh but worried he might bolt.

  ‘Jesus,’ he mutters. ‘I should be plastering a wall.’

  ‘It will all be worth it when you see the pictures, I promise,’ trills Viola.

  ‘I’ve managed to give Mitch a bath,’ I say. ‘And I thought he’d look good in his cafe scarf.’

  Frowning, Viola fiddles experimentally with Cal’s hair while Mitch lays his head on his paws with a sigh.

  ‘At least someone agrees with me. Now we both look bloody ridiculous,’ says Cal.

  Viola stares at him as if an amazing idea has struck her. ‘Cal, has anyone ever told you that you look like Aidan Turner?’ she says, in awe.

  Cal frowns. ‘Never heard of the bloke. Now can we please get on with this?’

  Two hours later, Cal is showered, styled and ready to explode. My jaw aches from smiling and Mitch has peed up Sean’s tripod and been banished from the shoot. Viola has changed our outfits four times.

  ‘Right. I think that’s enough. I have to get back to the walls,’ Cal pleads.

  ‘I know. Almost done. I promise … What is that?’ Viola points to the chimney of the ruined engine house.

  ‘It’s the old engine house that belonged to the tin mine.’

  ‘And you like, actually, own it?’

  ‘It’s part of Kilhallon land, yes,’ says Cal, unable to avoid a smile.

  ‘It’s incredible. So rugged, ruined, decadent and so tragic. We have to shoot some pics there. Sean, come on.’

  Sometime later, I’m draped over the granite engine platform in a floaty dress, while Cal stands a few feet away – fuming but also sexy as hell in a pair of dark tweed trousers and a leather waistcoat.

  ‘OK. Look out to sea, Demi, like you’re waiting for your lover to return. Anxious but hopeful. Cal, you stand apart, as if you are secretly in love with her but you know she’s been taken by someone else. We’re going for pensive, forlorn yet manly and resigned.’

  I hear a hiss from Cal but maintain my innocent hopeful gaze.

  Viola purrs encouragement while Sean takes different shots. ‘Yes, that’s great. You look gorgeous. Like a real child of nature.’

  ‘He’s right, you could model. You’ve got the height and figure and those looks. Like a brunette Lily Cole.’

  ‘Me? Lily Cole?’

  Sean smiles. ‘Sure. Can you cross one leg over the other, please, and flick your hair back.’ He walks up to me and arranges my hair over my bare shoulder. ‘Like this.’

  ‘She’s stunning, isn’t she, Cal? I keep trying to convince her to let me do a portfolio for her.’

  ‘Why not?’ Cal says, sounding bored. ‘Look, is this going to take much longer?’

  ‘I’m not interested in modelling. I’ve got enough to do here,’ I say firmly. Could Cal be jealous? The thought makes me want to break into a grin but I’m supposed to be longing.

  Sean glances up from the camera. ‘OK, I think we’re almost done but we need a couple more to be sure. I’ll move the tripod.’

  Viola scampers over, waving a comb and aerosol can. ‘Cal, can I touch up your hair a teensy bit, please? A quick spritz of lacquer?’

  While Cal coughs and splutters in a cloud of noxious spray, I spot Robyn riding towards us along the coast path. She turns her horse through the gate in the field and trots over.

  ‘Great. Now Robyn can see me,’ Cal mutters.

  ‘OK. Ready!’ Sean shouts.

  Viola skips back to Sean who looks into the camera and frowns. ‘Cal. Could you manage to look a bit more engaged, please. Imagine that Demi has spotted her lover sailing into the harbour, safe and sound, and you know now all is lost.’

  ‘I think he means he’d like you to look brooding,’ says Viola.

  ‘Like a hen, you mean?’ Cal cuts in.

  ‘Not quite. Mean and moody. You lost out on the hottest babe for miles to a rugged fisherman,’ says Sean, obviously enjoying himself. Robyn waits by the gate on her horse, shaking with laughter.

  Viola calls to Cal. ‘You know, Cal, I think a little touch of eyeliner would really help the look.’

  Cal folds his arms and scowls at Sean and Viola. ‘Over my dead body,’ he growls.

  ‘Hell yes! Hold that look!’ Sean shouts, and the motor drive whirrs. ‘Yes, that’s a wrap. Brilliant. Eva is going to love this.’

  ‘Right. That’s it. I have work to do.’

  Cal stomps off over the field.

  Robyn, who has spent the past ten minutes, trying not to wet herself laughing, finally leads her horse over to us and bursts into giggles again.

  ‘Oh dear. Have we pushed him too far?’ Viola asks, packing up her make-up kit.

  ‘I think the eyeliner tipped him over the edge.’

  ‘Cal has eyeliner on?’ Robyn asks, astonished..

  ‘Sadly he said that was going too far,’ Viola says with a sigh. ‘It’s a shame but the photo editor can probably add it. He’ll look amazing in the pictures. You too, Demi.’

  It’s all getting too much for me now. ‘Um, thanks. I’m going to get changed at the house.’

  ‘OK. I’ll finish up here with Sean.’ Viola scampers off, happy with her day’s work.

  Robyn leads her horse back to the house with me. ‘You look fantastic,’ she says.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And Cal was so funny. He hated having to pose.’

  ‘I suppose he’d better get used to it. I don’t think he’d thought about the marketing of Kilhallon at all. I think he thought he could do all the building work and people would just turn up. Thanks for the graphics you did. They’re awesome.’

  ‘Glad to help. Andi loved designing them.’

  ‘How are things going for you?’

  ‘Mawgan hasn’t caused any trouble but she still isn’t speaking to us. She let us have the flat but she won’t come round and avoids us. Andi’s upset, of course, but hopes she’ll get over it. Their dad is speaking to her again so I guess that’s a good start.’

  ‘Does she know that you and Andi designed the logos for Kilhallon and helped us at the launch?’

  Robyn shrugs. ‘I don
’t know. Possibly. Mawgan finds out everything somehow.’

  ‘How’s it going with your families?’

  ‘Andi’s dad and Mawgan seem to have accepted us living together though they’re hardly putting out the bunting when we visit. My dad seems OK with us being together, and he asked me and Andi round for Sunday lunch the day after the launch. Shame Cal couldn’t stay, of course; he was too busy here.’

  ‘Cal visited Bosinney on Sunday morning?’ I ask, puzzled.

  ‘Yes but he’d left before Andi and I got there. Dad told me that he was surprised to see Cal after how manic things had been on Saturday at the launch. Cal brought over some old photos and personal items that belonged to his dad that he’d found when he was clearing out his wardrobe. He thought my dad might like to have some of them as mementos. Then Dad went to play golf but Cal stayed to chat to Isla, apparently.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I did notice he’d finally sorted out his dad’s stuff,’ I say then kick myself, hoping Robyn doesn’t realise how intimately acquainted I am with Cal’s bedroom.

  ‘Isla got back from London late last night and she stayed over to keep my dad company. He misses me, which is kind of nice.’

  I smile. ‘I bet he does.’

  ‘Luke was meant to stay too but I heard he didn’t come back until it was light.’ Robyn grimaces. ‘He was drinking at the country club, though he’d promised Isla he was only popping out to have a half with a friend who was getting married but in the end, he’d had too much to drink to drive or walk home. Poor Isla, she was furious.’

  ‘I’ll bet …’ My voice trails off because my mind is working overtime.

  ‘Didn’t Cal tell you he’d been over to Bosinney?’ Robyn adds after a pause.

  ‘No, I mean, yes, he said he’d been out on Sunday morning. I had a lie-in …’ My face flushes, but Robyn watches me keenly. I’m no good at hiding my feelings and my confusion must show on my face.

  ‘Are you and Cal, you know … dating now?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Some people think you are. After the party and the launch, you sort of look as if you could be a couple. Come on, Demi, you can tell me. Has Cal said anything?’