The Icing on the Cake

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘Let me check everything is OK with this house first, then once I’m in of course you and Dad can come and see it. I feel bad not telling Juliette right away, but I’m sure once she knows she’ll be happy to have this place back: just her, Lawrence and the cats.’

  ‘And when does this event end?’

  ‘Tonight,’ Charlie said, blinking at her mum’s change of subject. ‘Look, you probably think this is all a bit sudden, a bit rushed, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Now I’ve made up my mind, I just want it to happen straight away.’

  ‘Of course you do. Grab life by the throat! Let me know as soon as you’ve seen this darling little cottage, won’t you? I’m sure your dad and I could come and help with the decorating, if it needs any once you’re in.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. I’d better go. I’ve got loads to do.’ She rang off and poured steaming coffee into her cup. When she turned around she noticed that, despite being sure she had closed it, the kitchen door was ajar.

  The sky that morning was peppered with thick, puffy clouds. They were mostly white, but a few towards the horizon were darker, threatening bad weather. Their shadows drifted across the sea and the sand, racing each other, and Charlie felt such a strong rush of love for the view that a lump lodged in her throat.

  The bus had only been open for ten minutes when a young couple came on board, holding hands. They chose one of the tables downstairs and the woman shrugged off a suede coat and laid it along the bench beside her.

  ‘Hello, welcome aboard The Cornish Cream Tea Bus,’ Charlie said. ‘Have a look at the menu and I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.’

  ‘We already know what we want,’ said the man. ‘Cornish cream tea for two, please.’

  ‘But could I have a cheese scone instead of fruit?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Of course; I can do a sweet and savoury selection.’

  ‘Thank you! Cream and jam seems wrong straight after the breakfast we’ve just had.’

  ‘Are you on holiday here?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Yes, we’re staying up at Crystal Waters.’ The woman took her partner’s hand. ‘It’s our anniversary, so Adam’s treating me. It’s spectacular up there.’

  ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Charlie said. ‘So well designed, everything perfectly in its place. Daniel Harper’s worked hard to get it exactly as he wants it.’

  ‘We’ve not met him, I don’t think,’ the woman said. ‘Only the receptionist and a couple of waiters in the restaurant. We’re booked into the hot tub tonight – have you been? It’s right on the edge of the cliff. I’m worried it might be a bit scary!’

  Charlie smiled at the memory. ‘I have been, as it happens. It’s one of the best spots in the whole of Cornwall. And don’t worry; it’s not as terrifying as you think it’s going to be. I’m sure you’ll love it once you’re in there. Let me go and sort out your cream teas.’

  She went back to the kitchen, holding the menu over her chest, as if they might be able to see how quickly her heart was pounding beneath her breastbone. She just had today to get through, and then she would see Daniel again. She was already planning their next visit to the hot tub together.

  The clouds thickened, darkened and finally dumped their rain on Porthgolow at two o’clock that afternoon. Charlie had known that the day wasn’t going to stay calm, but she hadn’t predicted the force of the downpour. People scattered, rushing inside the various undercover areas, and her bus went from cheerfully happy to ‘no standing room’ in a minute. ‘Bloody hell,’ Juliette said, peering out at the deluge. ‘This wasn’t forecast.’

  ‘It doesn’t look like it’ll last, though.’ Charlie pointed to the horizon, where blue shone out between gaps in the clouds. ‘Not enough to send everyone away, just enough to steam up the windows.’ She glanced around her but, despite the crush, the windows stayed condensation-free. Pete really was a wizard. Not many vintage Routemasters had state-of-the-art air-temperature control, a fully functioning kitchen and a winch on the front. Maybe Gertie was irreplaceable, after all.

  ‘Listen,’ Juliette said, keeping her voice to a whisper. ‘I know this probably isn’t the time to be having this conversation, but I can’t let you do this, Char.’

  Charlie frowned. ‘Do what? Load up that plate with raspberry scones? Is there something wrong with them? Too much salt?’

  ‘No,’ Juliette huffed. ‘Of course not! I overheard …’ She stopped. ‘What on earth?’

  ‘What is it?’ Charlie looked out of the window, where the rain was still falling but with a gentler patter, and peered at the jetty. The view was partly obscured by food trucks, but not enough to hide what was happening.

  ‘Is he …?’ Juliette squealed. ‘Oh my God!’

  A second later they were pushing through the people on the bus, shouting apologies, not caring that they were leaving it unmanned. Because when the rain had started, the queue for SeaKing Safari tours had dissipated, the customers perhaps hoping they would resume when the sun came back out. But what Charlie and Juliette had both seen from the bus was a very confident twelve-year-old boy climbing inside the remaining RIB and pulling his little sister on board with him.

  ‘Jonah!’ Charlie called as she ran across the sand. ‘Jonah WAIT!’ Juliette was shouting too. The sodden sand was heavy, grabbing at her feet with every step, and soon her chest was aching with the effort of running. She could see the RIB hovering at the jetty while Jonah untied the ropes, making a concerted effort, she thought, not to hear their cries.

  ‘Shit,’ Juliette said breathlessly, ‘he can’t go. Not just him and Flora.’

  ‘He’s so smart,’ Charlie gasped, ‘why is he doing this? Jonah!’ she shouted again. ‘Jonah!’

  Soon Paul had joined the pursuit, several steps behind. He was red-cheeked as he called out. ‘Jonah, son – wait!’

  The sound of the engine cut through the air and, even though she wasn’t sure she had anything left, Charlie picked up her pace. Her foot hit the hard, slick stone of the jetty and she almost went flying, but she regained her balance and raced to the end, threw herself down and grabbed hold of the side of the boat, trying to grasp its inflated side as Jonah pushed the throttle.

  ‘Jonah, stop,’ she panted. ‘Stop, please!’

  His lips were pressed together, his brows lowered. He hesitated, the engine still turning over, and Charlie knew that if he steered away she wouldn’t be able to hold on. She reached out to try and grab the rope, and Flora laughed.

  ‘We’re going to find mermaids!’ she said delightedly.

  ‘Jonah, please,’ Charlie tried again. ‘Don’t go.’

  He gave her a cool glance – and then his face crumpled and he screwed his eyes shut. He turned off the engine.

  ‘Oh God, Jonah.’ She slid into the boat and, ignoring how soaked she was, pulled him into a hug. ‘What were you doing?’

  ‘Jonah, bloody hell!’ Paul reached the boat, Juliette just behind him. ‘Why on earth did you do that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to go out on your own? Especially when the sea is like this! Did you ask me to go and get fudge just so you could take the boat out?’

  ‘Da-a-d!’ Jonah wailed, his bottom lip trembling.

  Paul and Juliette climbed into the boat, and Juliette wrapped her arms around Flora.

  ‘Shit,’ Paul muttered, squeezing his son’s shoulder. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry, Jonah, but …’ He shook his head.

  Jonah was openly crying now. Charlie couldn’t bear it.

  ‘Th–they made fun of me,’ he said, through his sobs. ‘They said I was all high and mighty, high-fiving everyone like an Apple employee, but that I was only in charge of the queue.’

  ‘Who said this?’ Charlie asked.

  She felt Jonah shrug. ‘Some boys.’

  Paul met her gaze, his expression a mixture of relief and despair. ‘You don’t need to worry about them,’ he said. ‘People can say hurtful things, but most of the time they’re just jealous. And they were jealous because
you’re part of our team – the SeaKing’s team. You know more about it than them; you can come on the boats with us whenever you want, and one day, you’ll be piloting them. Don’t let their jealousy get to you. You are a brilliant, funny, caring young man, and your mum and I couldn’t be more proud of you.’

  Jonah looked at his dad with pooling eyes and sniffed loudly. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ Paul said. ‘You kill it, every single day. You are already living your life, making the most of it. Don’t ever change.’

  ‘Are we going to find mermaids now?’ Flora asked.

  Jonah ruffled her hair. ‘Not today, Flora. Maybe Dad will take us out next week, and we can have a look?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Paul said. ‘Next week. You two, me, Jem and your mum. We can take a picnic, stop somewhere round the coast and have a proper hunt for these mythical beings. You mustn’t be disappointed, though, if we don’t find any.’ He smiled at his son and Jonah gave him a knowing grin in return.

  ‘OK. Sounds good.’

  ‘High-five!’ Flora shouted, raising her arm. Jonah hit her palm, and everyone laughed.

  Once they were back on the sand, Jonah flung his arms first round Juliette, and then Charlie. ‘Thank you for caring,’ he said.

  Charlie hugged him back and closed her eyes. ‘Your dad’s right, you know. You are brilliant – don’t ever forget it. I’m lucky to know you, Jonah.’

  ‘I need to get back to the bus,’ Charlie said, as she watched the other RIB returning, a very soggy Amanda at the helm, while Paul, Jonah and Flora waited for them on the beach.

  ‘You can’t,’ Juliette said. ‘You did a very impressive slide across that jetty, and you’re both soaked and filthy.’

  ‘Can you run home and get us both a change of clothes? The bus is packed and God knows what kind of madness will have descended – there were at least three tables waiting to be served when we left.’

  ‘OK, I’ll be as quick as I can. Are you all right?’ Juliette narrowed her eyes. ‘You know, a moment ago, with Jonah … It seemed like you were saying goodbye, or something.’

  ‘What? Of course not. I was just glad he was OK,’ Charlie rushed. ‘I need to get back. There is something I want to talk to you about, but it’ll have to wait until later. See you in a bit?’ She gave her friend a quick smile and raced back to her bus to see what carnage had been caused in their absence.

  She needn’t have worried. Most of her customers had seen what had happened and, when she walked back on board, she was treated to a round of applause, and more understanding than she felt she deserved. It took her a long time to speak to everyone – they all wanted to hear the full story – and by the time Juliette returned with a pair of faded jeans, a T-shirt and a thin, cornflower-blue cardigan, Charlie was shivering. She climbed into the cab and performed one of the most awkward clothes’ changes of her life, but when she emerged, leaving her slightly damp phone to dry out on the dashboard, she could already feel the warm, dry layers wrapping themselves around her.

  The sun was out again and the crowds had returned, people buying burgers and spicy noodles, packages of Cornish Yarg and boxes of sweets to take home. Hugh was busy at his ale stand and Myrtle was chatting to Bill – and anyone who came to buy a superfood salad, vegan curry or vegetable fajita from his truck. ‘We have fireworks sometimes,’ Charlie heard Myrtle say. ‘Should’ve thought to organize some for tonight, but our master of ceremonies is away this weekend.’

  Not for much longer, Charlie thought, and felt a dizzying rush of anticipation.

  ‘How long are you going to stay open?’ Juliette asked.

  Charlie shrugged. ‘Until custom dwindles. I want to make the most of it.’

  ‘Good. That’s great – really great. What can I do to help?’

  They worked well, a polished machine after time spent together over the summer. Myrtle and Stella popped in with news of a group of dolphins spotted out by the cliffs below Crystal Waters, and to tell them the cocktails at The Cornish Cocktail Co. were much better than Oliver’s had ever been. Unsurprisingly, The Marauding Mojito hadn’t been a part of the markets since her confrontation with Oliver a few weeks before. Charlie would have been happy for him to still be involved – she wasn’t going to let personal differences encroach on the events. But for this weekend she had found a replacement, safe in the knowledge that Oliver would find more fairs and festivals, and more company, away from Porthgolow.

  Myrtle and Stella were in high spirits and Charlie chatted to them in between serving, though she was now on a countdown to when the afternoon was over and Daniel returned. There had been talk of everyone meeting in the pub on the last night. All the vendors were invited and Charlie was looking forward to spending more time with the people who had brought Porthgolow to life over the summer. But she was looking forward to seeing Daniel even more. She wanted to tell him that she was staying; that she and Gertie were going to be a feature of the village for the foreseeable future.

  They were still working as the sun began to set. The tarmac was shiny from the earlier rainfall and the sea glimmered outside the windows. People were drifting towards The Seven Stars, its outdoor light glowing invitingly, the noise and hubbub on the beach beginning to fade. ‘Look at our village,’ Charlie whispered, placing her hand on the glass. ‘What do you think, Marmite? Spectacular, or what?’ Her Yorkipoo looked up at her from his spot in the driver’s seat and she ruffled him behind the ears.

  A couple came down from the top deck and handed Charlie their tray of empty crockery. She wished them goodnight and was about to tell Juliette they could start closing down when her friend rushed up to her and clutched her arms.

  ‘You can’t go, Char. I won’t let you. Not tonight – not at such short notice!’

  ‘What?’ Charlie stepped back. ‘Go where?’

  ‘Home. Back to Ross-on-Wye. I don’t care if you’ve found a place, or if—’

  ‘Wait, Juliette. Stop.’ She squeezed her arm. ‘Why do you think I’m leaving?’

  ‘Because we talked about it. You told me Bea wants you back and I heard you on the phone to your mum this morning, saying Gertie wasn’t irreplaceable and that we’d get another bus, that you’d found a house but you didn’t want to tell me you were going, even though you’re leaving tonight! You belong here, Char, and I know you haven’t sorted things out with Daniel. You absolutely, categorically, cannot go until you’ve spoken to him. Think how devastated he’ll be if you leave without even saying goodbye.’

  As realization dawned on Charlie, of all Juliette had overheard and misinterpreted, she started laughing.

  ‘What?’ Juliette folded her arms. ‘This is not funny. Shit, Charlie.’

  ‘I’m not going,’ she said. ‘I’m not leaving Porthgolow.’

  ‘You’re … you’re not?’

  ‘Nope. I’ve found a house here, to rent, potentially. I’m going to look at it tomorrow, but I didn’t want to tell you until I knew whether I could have it or not. You’ve let me stay for such a long time, and—’

  ‘But the bus. You said Gertie was replaceable.’

  ‘For Bea. She had been talking about using Gertie for The Café on the Hill, so I was telling Mum that if she really wanted to go ahead, then Gertie wasn’t the only vintage Routemaster in the world. Though of course nothing will ever be as good as The Cornish Cream Tea Bus!’ She laughed again, but Juliette didn’t join in.

  ‘You said you were going tonight.’

  ‘I didn’t, I …’ Charlie frowned. ‘Mum was asking me when this market was over, when I could start organizing everything – that must have been what you heard. God, Juliette, I thought I was Porthgolow’s worst eavesdropper.’

  But still her friend didn’t look overjoyed.

  ‘Hey, Jules, I’m sorry if you thought that—’

  ‘I called Daniel,’ she said.

  Charlie froze. ‘What?’

  ‘After our rescue at the jetty. You gave Jonah such a heartfelt hug, I was convinced that
I’d got it right, and that you were definitely going.’

  ‘You told Daniel I was leaving?’ Charlie pressed her hand over her chest to try and stop her heart from galloping. ‘W-what did he say?’

  ‘He seemed shocked, Char. Really shocked. He said he thought he was seeing you tonight.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Charlie checked her pockets, then remembered leaving her phone out to dry when she got back on the bus after Jonah’s act of defiance. She looked at the screen and saw she had six missed calls from him. ‘Shit.’

  ‘Why is that so bad?’ Juliette asked. ‘If you’re staying, then … I mean, he said he was coming back tonight anyway. We can tell him I got it wrong, can’t we? If you had arranged to see him, that is. It’s just a misunderstanding.’

  ‘Sure,’ Charlie said. ‘We’ll explain it, and it’ll be fine.’ She dialled his number, but it went straight to voicemail. ‘He’s probably driving.’

  She glanced at the clock. It was time to close. There had been no new customers and some of the other food stalls had already packed up.

  ‘So,’ Juliette said, finally smiling, ‘do you want to tell me why you’re so keen that Daniel knows you’re not leaving Porthgolow? I’m sensing there’s something you haven’t told me.’

  Charlie grinned. Her friend had already wheedled one secret out of her and Charlie had been determined to keep her and Daniel under wraps, at least until after tonight. But it seemed Juliette’s eavesdropping had inadvertently put paid to that, too.

  In the quiet that followed, while she worked out how much to tell her friend, she could hear the seagulls cawing outside, and the rhythmic churn of the waves creeping up the beach as the tide came in.

  And then a loud squeal reverberated through the air, followed by a sickening thud. It seemed to echo for ever, ripples of sound filling Charlie’s head.

  Her breath stalled in her throat. She tried to give the noise a definition: something logical and unthreatening, something perfectly normal.

  Juliette’s eyes were wide. ‘Charlie, what was that?’

  Charlie stared at her and shook her head.