‘You don’t mean that. You love kids.’
‘Some of them. Some of the time. Shit. I’ll leave you to soothe the parents. I’ve had enough of all that. I’ll be in the tepee if you need me.’ He rubs Mitch’s ears. ‘Thanks, boy. There’s an extra-large chew in this for you later and maybe a bit of steak.’
Mitch answers by glancing up momentarily before returning to inspect his privates.
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ I ask Cal.
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ he snaps. ‘Have to go, I was talking to a couple about a party when this kicked off.’
‘Wait, Cal.’ He’s already walking quickly away from me, and away from the yurts into the woods. I could take offence at him snapping at me but he was genuinely rattled.
After taking the parents and little boy into the cafe and seeing them settled with a cup of tea and a squash for Keegan, I try to leave to see where Cal is but I’m needed by half a dozen people wanting to know about holding events here and where the toilets are and do we do outside catering? Finally I notice the clock and Shamia pulling anxious faces at me from behind a pair of sixty-something dog owners who want to know if we can cater for a wedding between a miniature Schnauzer and a Chihuahua.
I’m still slightly worried about Cal but the yurt has given me an idea for entertaining the kids at weddings. I know that we’ll have at least a dozen children under twelve at the wedding and some teenagers. I think we could have two yurts dedicated to them. With DVDs, books and toys for the younger ones and a chill-out tent with games consoles for the older ones. We could even hire a nanny if Lily and Ben agree.
Soon, it’s time to shut up shop but the cafe is half full and there’s no way I can slip away to see what’s wrong with Cal, if there’s anything wrong with him at all. His face was so pale and I swear his hands shook.
He surely didn’t mean what he said about not having kids – he was great with the evacuees we had at the flooding and he never needs an excuse to act like a big kid. Despite throwing himself into the wedding fair and saying his mind is here at Kilhallon, there’s a lot I don’t know about him and may never know.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Maundy Thursday
For a week now, the cafe has been filled with the spicy aromas of hot cross buns, Cornish saffron cake and chocolate cupcakes. Cal reckoned you could smell it from a hundred yards away. Hard to believe that it was last Easter, a year ago, when I first came to Kilhallon. Even harder to believe that Demelza’s has now been open six months and that the cafe and resort are about to enter their first full season. From now until the end of September, we’re going to be open from Tuesday to Sunday and we’ve taken on an extra chef and two more waiting staff to help.
‘Remind me that I never want to see another chocolate egg, bunny or Easter nest,’ I say to Nina and Shamia as we clear up the cafe after a busy ‘Maundy Thursday’, as Polly calls it. She’s tried to explain about it being the day when the Queen gives her small change away to pensioners but all I know is that it’s Good Friday tomorrow and the cafe has been jam-packed with over-excited kids. We invited the children who stayed over at Christmas after the floods as an Easter treat and they’ve had a whale of a time decorating cupcakes, along with some of our younger cottage and yurt guests.
Melted chocolate, Rice Krispies and cornflakes spatter the paper cloths covering the tables at one end of the cafe. I pick a squashed fluffy chick off the floor and get down on my knees to rescue a chocolate bunny that’s rolled under the radiator and is melting onto the tiles.
The kids and their families spent a couple of hours making Easter nests and biscuits as part of a fundraising tea for the Flood Appeal. Lots of locals turned up to support it, along with the usual walkers and guests. Eva donated some of her cookbooks and Tamsin offered a spa voucher for the raffle. It was great to see everyone having a good time but the noise level under the rafters was deafening.
Apart from a few meetings in London, Kit has stayed on at Kilhallon, working on his articles and a new book idea. He arranged for a freelance photographer to take pictures of some of the families affected. They’ve given him the positive side of the story: St Trenyan rebuilding and gearing up for a new season and the downside: some homes and businesses still not habitable because of insurance claims and other problems. He’s also interviewed Cal in his role as vice-chair of the Floods Committee, managing a hardship fund and supporting people as they try to rebuild their lives. While most of the businesses have managed to re-open, some of the residents are still in short-term accommodation and are battling with their insurers.
A celebrity wedding seems trivial in comparison but we need to make Kilhallon a success to be able to employ local people and bring in visitors to the area. The wedding fair was hard work, both to set up and dismantle, but I’m glad we did it. At least we have all got more confidence that we can pull off the real thing now.
On the day itself, we took two deposits for weddings, one for this autumn and one for next spring, plus enquiries for several more. The suppliers were happy. It all seems a lifetime away because Easter is one of the busiest times of year for Kilhallon and Demelza’s. Much to our relief, Lily was delighted with the pictures we sent of the venue and has been talking to Hazel about the flowers and styling for the wedding. So things, for the moment, seem to be progressing in the right direction.
It’s been a long but fun day at the cafe but I’m glad to slide into bed this evening. Cal walks into the bedroom, towelling his hair after a shower, another towel tightly knotted around his waist. I’m already under the duvet, in prime position to enjoy the spectacle. I’ll never take it for granted and my body responds to the sight of his toned arms and stomach with the most delicious feelings.
He drops the towel on a chair and stands by the bed. ‘You know this is a special occasion, don’t you?’
It’s special enough for me with him so close. Tiny droplets of water glisten in the springy hair that dusts his chest. ‘Special? Why?’
He raises his eyebrows as if he’s surprised I don’t know what he means. Of course, I do, but I’m not going to let on that I’ve been thinking about our ‘anniversary’ all day and wondering how I ever got this lucky.
‘It’s been a year to the day since I first saw you at Sheila’s Beach Hut,’ he says.
‘Oh God, has it? That’s exactly a year since I lost my job. Not my finest hour.’
‘And it’s been a year since I set foot in Cornwall after my little holiday in Syria. It wasn’t my finest hour either: I should have stuck up for you with Mawgan but I walked off. I was too wrapped up with my own problems.’
‘You had a lot on your mind. I know that now, but at the time I did think you were another hipster only interested in himself and his surfboard.’
‘I’ve never owned a surfboard. I’ve never been any good at surfing.’ He sits on the edge of the bed, naked. ‘Now look at us.’
‘Look at you.’
‘Hmm. You have that effect on me.’ His kiss is warm, gentle but confident. Fresh from the shower, he smells great and his skin is still damp and glowing under my fingertips. I still haven’t got used to falling asleep and waking up next to that lean and gorgeous body, and the sometimes confusing puzzle that’s Cal, with all his quirks and problems.
He climbs into bed and lies beside me. He pushes my hair off my face. ‘How’s your first year been? Any regrets about accepting the job?’
‘Too many to list, but I’m still here. How are you, Cal?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Are you? Really fine?’
He frowns. ‘Why do you ask?’
His overreaction with the missing boy at the wedding fair is on the tip of my tongue but something in Cal’s tone makes me wary of mentioning it.
‘Nothing.’ I smile.
‘I’m OK. The past, you might say, is all behind me,’ he murmurs, laying his hands on my bottom and pressing me against him. He kisses me and stifles any more dangerous talk. We’re both lost in each
other but later, when he thinks I’m asleep, I hear him get out of bed. I sneak a look at him, staring out of the window at the starry night. I know he’s not here at Kilhallon but thousands of miles away and I can’t do a thing about it. Long after he’s climbed back in beside me and has finally fallen asleep, I make up my mind that I have to try to help, even if Cal wouldn’t approve of the idea. I must try.
On Easter Monday, Kit walks into the cafe as we’re closing after a hectic bank holiday. I make him a coffee myself and sit down with him while the staff clear up wearily around us.
He sips his espresso thoughtfully. ‘Wow. Allowed in after closing time again. That must be a good sign I’ve been accepted.’
‘Don’t bank on it. The last time you were allowed in after closing, Mitch and I fell down a hole,’ I say, reminding him of the night we were hanging Christmas decorations when Mitch ran off into the fog.
He winces. ‘I worried that I’d left the door open when we went to fetch the holly. That it was my fault.’
‘No. I think I left the door open. It doesn’t matter now, everything turned out OK.’
‘No thanks to me.’
I smile. ‘Forget it. Even Cal is getting over it. He uses your first name now and said you were doing a decent job with the article.’
‘Wow. High praise.’
I cradle my mug, wondering if I dare share the idea that’s been swirling around my head for a few weeks now. ‘There’s something else you could help with, though, if you did want to do more, although it’s probably a much harder job than your flooding feature …’ I say, hoping I’m doing the right thing. Then I suddenly worry that Kit will think I’m going to suggest he asks Tamsin out on a date. She still has hopes in that direction.
Kit sips his coffee before asking, warily. ‘What would that be?’
I dive straight in with my request. ‘Help me track down Esme.’
Slowly he lowers his cup and replaces it in the saucer.
‘Hmm. That is a hard job. Impossible even …’ He pauses and I wish the words were still unsaid. ‘However, I could make a few calls and send some emails,’ he goes on. ‘I do know some colleagues who have contacts out there but I can’t see how I can do much more than Cal and his colleagues. Trawling the people-tracing agencies is their best bet.’
‘I know but I wanted to try. I won’t tell Cal I’ve asked you.’
‘Best not. The likelihood is it’ll turn out to be pointless anyway but I’ll do some digging and if I have the slightest lead on Esme or her family, I’ll be in touch with you right away. You realise she’s probably not even alive?’
I feel sick when he says the words out loud but he’s only echoing Cal. ‘Yes, I’m prepared for that, which is why I’d rather not tell him I’ve even asked you to help. He’s had enough disappointment for one year and I don’t think he could take any more right now. He said he just wanted a quiet life from now on.’
‘A quiet life? Cal?’ Kit huffs in disbelief. ‘Things must be dire. When I get back to London, I’ll see what I can do, and I’ll let you know, even if I turn up bad news.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
‘Oooo, it really is as cute and pretty as I remember!’ Lily says, beaming at us from the open door of the BMW. It’s the Monday after the Easter holiday week and the first day that the cafe has been closed for eleven days straight. I’ve worked right through to make the most of the holidays and I’m hoping I don’t keel over with exhaustion. Although judging by the look of Lily, she may flake out first.
Harry helps her down onto the cafe parking area like she’s a grand lady descending from a carriage. Despite her breezy manner and smile, I’m a bit shocked. She’s even thinner than she was and her eyes are puffy and dark as if she hasn’t slept for days.
‘I’m sorry Ben couldn’t make it, He had some ADR work to do for his latest film.’
‘Oh, I see. I think,’ I say, though I’ve no idea what she means.
She laughs. ‘It means he has to re-record some of his lines from the film. Sometimes the dialogue isn’t clear the first time or they make last-minute script changes before the movie comes out. I’ll probably have to do some myself soon.’
‘Hi, Harry. How are you?’
‘Very well, thank you.’
‘Rachel’s on her way. Can I get you both a drink and something to eat?’ I ask.
‘A chamomile tea, please, and do you have any of those rice cakes with the dark chocolate on them? I know I shouldn’t but I feel like pigging out and Ben’s not here to see me.’
‘Surely he doesn’t mind you eating?’ I’m shocked.
‘No, of course not. I’m not under Ben’s thumb.’
‘You need to keep your strength up,’ Harry says before turning to me. ‘Do you have any figgy ’obbin today?’
‘Sorry, no, but I’ve made some sample canapés and there are some triple chocolate brownies and a citrus cake. How does that sound?’
He rubs his hands together. ‘Would it be awfully rude of me to try one of each?’
‘No. I’d love to know what you think of them. Lily says you like baking and cooking?’
‘Gosh, no. It’s Giles who’s the baker. I’m more of a main course man.’
‘We’ll have to swap some recipes. I’ll get your drinks and cakes.’
There’s still no Rachel by the time I’ve served Lily and Harry so I make an excuse about the lack of mobile signal and head outside to phone her. It’s not like her to let me down and we really can’t afford any more disasters after the last two meetings. I let out a huge sigh of relief as her car rolls into the cafe car park and hurry to meet her. Immediately I spot Freya in the passenger seat and she’s screaming fit to burst.
‘Sorry! I had to bring Freya. My mum’s gone down with a bug and there was no one else to have her at this short notice … and guess what happened on the way here even though I only changed her before I set out. Shh. Shh. Darling. I’ll sort you out in a minute.’
‘Do you want me to ask Cal to have her?’ I say as Freya lets the whole of Cornwall know how she feels about being stuck in the car in a dirty nappy.
‘Would he mind? I can’t take her in to meet the celebrity couple in this state.’ Rachel wrinkles her nose.
‘I’ll call him if I can get a signal. Let me take her into the customer loo and clean her up while you go in and talk to Lily. Ben couldn’t come,’ I call loudly, while freeing Freya from the seat belt. ‘Which isn’t a bad thing,’ I whisper to Freya who momentarily stops howling.
Rachel grabs her tablet and Freya’s changing kit.
‘Let’s go round to the staff entrance,’ I say over the sound of Freya’s wails. ‘And I’ll sort her out while you speak to Lily. I’ll message Cal over WhatsApp if I can’t speak to him.’
‘This is beyond the call of duty,’ Rachel says.
‘Well, she is my sister.’
Cal jogs over within a few minutes as I’m walking Freya around the cafe, trying to distract her with a toy.
‘Good timing,’ I say.
He grins. ‘I came as soon as I could.’
‘I bet.’
‘You’re lucky I was working on the campsite wash block. I get all the best jobs. I need to wash my hands and then I’ll take Princess Freya,’ he says, smiling at her.
She lets out an even louder howl.
He winces. ‘I must be losing my touch. I also think I should have brought the ear defenders I was using while I was trimming the bushes behind the toilets.’
After he’s washed his hands in the customer loo, I hand Freya over and take a few deep, calming breaths before I face Lily. As I walk in, I can see that Rachel has everything in hand. Harry sits in the corner, flicking through a food supplement in one of the lifestyle magazines.
‘Right, sorry, I was tied up. What can I get everyone?’
While I gather a plate of the mini scones that I’d like to serve at the wedding celebration tea, I pop my head around the door of the loo. At least Freya calmed down once sh
e was out of her seat and lying on the changing mat. Her eyes are huge, taking in all the new sights and the mobile we hung from the ceiling above the flip-down changing mat.
Cal flips the lid of the nappy bin and drops a heavily scented purple bag inside.
I can’t help but giggle.
‘I ought to get a picture of this for the blog.’
‘Very funny but I’ve seen worse than this, you know.’ He turns back to Freya. ‘But not much.’
She gurgles at him and reaches for the mobile, before treating Cal to a cute smile. ‘How are you, little Miss Grumpy Pants?’ he says, tickling her tummy.
‘Not Miss Grumpy Pants any more by the look of it. Rachel’s mum has a bug so Rachel had to bring her to this meeting. She’s gorgeous but we need to concentrate so would you mind looking after her for an hour?’
‘Me?’ Cal addresses Freya. ‘Would you mind, Freya? Would you?’
He picks her up and she smiles again and blows a bubble of approval. Cal holds her against his shoulder as her mouth widens at having a new view of the world.
‘See, she likes me,’ he says. ‘Don’t you, Freya?’
‘You are so smug sometimes, Cal Penwith.’
He grins. ‘You’re only jealous. I’ll take her up to the farmhouse. Polly will be in ecstasy when she sees her.’
I leave him struggling to get a pair of tiny tights on a pair of wriggling little legs. It’s funny but I’ve never been a baby person, and never imagined Cal as one either, but then I realise how attached he was to Esme and how much he enjoyed working with the children in the camp. I wonder if he ever thought about having a family one day with Isla. I wonder if he still does? I can’t imagine being responsible for a Freya. Not yet anyway. One day?
Wow. That’s way too big and scary to think about. Gathering up my tray, I head into the cafe where Rachel has managed to make Lily smile.
‘Can we announce that your ceremony is being held here?’
‘Yes. Addison and Jade are dealing with all that. We’ve sold the rights exclusively to Grapevine! We’re happy to split the fee fifty-fifty between our charity and yours. Do you have one in mind?’
Confetti at the Cornish Café Page 17
