The Christmas Cafe at Seashell Cove: The perfect laugh-out-loud Christmas romance

by Karen Clarke

  ‘Pillock,’ Bridget murmured. I caught a glimmer of amusement in her face and had to stem another flow of laughter. ‘My English teacher was called Miss Bullwinkle, which was funny enough on its own.’

  ‘She was still there when I started school,’ I said. ‘Everyone called her Miss Winky, because… well, I don’t know, really. I suppose it was easier to say.’

  ‘It’s bullying really.’ Rufus folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. ‘Imagine someone shouting Pillock! every time you walk past, or in class, and pretending they were coughing when you ask them what they said.’

  ‘It can be affectionate, though.’ Bridget sounded conciliatory. ‘Or a harmless way of getting back at the establishment.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ he said, shooting her a grateful look.

  ‘I already told you,’ I couldn’t resist pointing out. ‘You shouldn’t respond.’

  ‘So, what are you wearing for this wedding on Saturday?’ said Bridget.

  I looked at Rufus, then realised she was talking to me.

  ‘Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it.’ I mentally ran through the items in my wardrobe and tossed them all on the floor. ‘I might have to buy something.’

  ‘A dress.’ Rufus instantly revived. When he smiled, he really was very cute. I had a minor flashback to him kissing my neck in his bedroom, and remembered that things were nice in that department. The earth might not have moved, but who wanted earthquakes?

  ‘I don’t really do dresses,’ I said, through another mouthful of clementine, handing a segment to Romy, who placed it gently in her box of crayons. ‘I’m not the right shape.’

  ‘You’re definitely the right shape.’ Rufus’s eyes travelled over me appreciatively. ‘Something above the knee would suit you.’

  Bridget fastened the top button of her cardigan. ‘She doesn’t like showing her legs, I don’t know why.’ I sensed a compliment in there somewhere and threw her a smile.

  ‘I know, it’s a pity.’ Rufus sounded sorrowful – as if he’d discovered that Santa didn’t exist. ‘I’ve told her they’re stunning, but she just shrugs it off.’

  ‘Hello, I’m right here.’

  Rufus apologised. ‘I’m being a bit of a dinosaur,’ he said. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m not on board with feminism. I fully support your right to wear whatever you like.’ He adjusted his shirt collar. ‘But a dress would really suit you.’

  ‘I’ll find something suitable, but prepare to be disappointed.’

  ‘Never.’ He said it so fervently that Bridget’s eyes widened.

  ‘Have you ever been married?’ she said. ‘I don’t think I’ve asked Tilly that.’

  She hadn’t shown much interest at all, beyond the fact that I was ‘dating’ Rufus, and he had Dad’s seal of approval.

  ‘No.’ He scratched the back of his head. ‘I was in love, once, but then I found out she was seeing my brother.’

  I looked at him in surprise. ‘That must have been awful.’ I remembered Grant, with the luxurious beard and gentle smile. Hard to imagine them liking the same woman, somehow. ‘What happened?’

  ‘They’re getting married on Saturday.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Won’t that be a bit awkward?’ Bridget sounded equally uncomfortable.

  ‘I shouldn’t think so.’ Rufus looked surprised. ‘She never knew I liked her. It was one of those “love from afar” things.’

  ‘Right.’ I was unsure whether what I was feeling was relief or annoyance. Why hadn’t he said that in the first place?

  ‘Silly,’ said Romy, as though she’d absorbed everything and distilled it into a single word. She’d finished colouring her Minion blue, and had surrounded it with big red kisses.

  ‘Looks good.’ I stroked a hand over her hair, and she nodded without looking up. ‘I’ve got to go.’ I made a thing of looking at my watch and grimacing. ‘Work to do, et cetera.’

  Taking the hint, Rufus stood up and removed his coat from the back of the chair; the same coat he’d worn the day we’d talked on the beach – the day I’d saved Jack. ‘I’ll pick you up at ten Saturday morning.’

  ‘Seven, eight, nine, ten,’ recited Romy.

  ‘Oh, good girl!’ Bridget’s smile was so wide and warm as she picked up her daughter and kissed both cheeks, I couldn’t help smiling too, and started when Rufus laid his hands on my shoulders and pressed his mouth to mine.

  ‘Well, that was… interesting,’ said Bridget, when Rufus had driven off and Romy had scampered up to her room to find Teddy.

  Something about her tone made me look at her twice. ‘Interesting, as in…?’

  She picked up a lump of pastry and dropped it in the bin. ‘As in, weird.’

  I’d been about to get up, but stared at her instead. ‘I thought you approved of him.’

  Another clump of pastry vanished into the bin. ‘I’ve only really glimpsed him before but from what Dad said, he seemed nice.’

  ‘And now he doesn’t?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She undid the top button of her cardigan. ‘He was different in my head.’

  She’d been so adamant that Rufus was the sort of man I should be having a ‘grown-up’ relationship with, I’d expected her to sing his praises the second he left the house. ‘Different, how?’

  ‘Nicer.’ She dusted her hands down her jeans and met my gaze. ‘I think he might be a bit of a wanker.’

  ‘A wanker?’ If she’d said she was giving up finance to become a DJ I’d have been less surprised. ‘Why?’

  ‘I got the impression when he arrived that he wanted to check you weren’t having doubts about this wedding, and if you were, whether I might change your mind.’ A shaft of light poured through the window, rinsing her hair red-gold, so it looked like it did in a photo of her on the dresser, cradling me as a baby. ‘I told him, if you’d said you were going, you would.’

  I widened my eyes, as if to more fully absorb the look on her face. ‘He’s worried because I didn’t say yes right away, that’s all,’ I said. ‘I really don’t think he’s a wanker.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Her eyes were avid, as if my answer mattered.

  ‘Well, how would you define wankery?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘If I looked it up in the dictionary, I’d expect Rufus’s face to be there.’ Her impression of his earnest expression was so accurate, I dissolved into laughter.

  ‘That’s mean,’ I said, once I’d recovered. ‘He’s honestly not that bad.’ I told her about the misunderstanding over the paint on the café windows and the humour left her face.

  ‘That’s not romantic, whatever your friend says, it’s wrong,’ she said. ‘It’s actually a criminal act.’

  ‘Don’t be dramatic, Bee, he’d probably had a drink and didn’t think it through.’ I remembered his stricken face when I told him I’d had to clean up the mess. ‘He was definitely being romantic.’

  Bridget’s frown was back in force. ‘Does he drink a lot?’

  ‘No, at least…’ I hesitated. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. He hadn’t drunk that much whenever we’d been out together, but I had no idea whether he drank at home. ‘No more than anyone else.’ I broke away from her gaze. ‘He brought me flowers,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Yes, and those pine cones are giving you a headache.’ Her face loosened into a smile. ‘That’s why I put the bouquet over there.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I was smiling too. She’d moved them because she’d remembered I didn’t like the smell of pine.

  ‘The point is, if he knew you properly, he’d never have brought them in the first place,’ she said.

  ‘But we’re still at the getting-to-know-each-other stage.’ I felt an urge to impress her with how ‘adult’ I was being. ‘Remember, Dad recommended him, so he can’t be a total wanker. Rufus, I mean, not dad.’

  She flopped back in her chair and studied me for a moment. ‘Well, it’s good that you’re giving him a chance.’ She drummed the tabletop with her f
ingertips and pulled a face. ‘And I’m hardly fit to be giving relationship advice.’ She’d never referenced her own track record before – at least not in a self-deprecating way. If this was the result of an evening with Seth Donovan, I had a lot to thank him for. ‘I suppose the wedding will throw you together for a day, and you’ll have a better idea at the end of it whether you’re right for each other.’

  ‘Wow,’ I said, faking amazement to disguise the fact that I was genuinely moved. ‘You’ve just given me some advice that makes sense, and isn’t designed to make me feel crap about myself.’

  To my surprise, her eyes glazed with sorrow. ‘Is that what I do?’

  ‘Oh, Bee, you know it is.’ It felt like the right time to say it, but I kept my voice gentle. ‘It’s the way it’s always been.’

  ‘Oh god.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘I’m a terrible human being.’

  Unsure whether to jokingly agree, or to offer some reassurance, I jumped when she snatched her hands away. ‘Just kidding,’ she said, but there was a telltale wobble in her voice. ‘I suppose a therapist would say I have issues.’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Too late to say sorry and start over, I suppose?’ Her face blurred in a haze of tears.

  ‘Never.’

  She reached for my hand. ‘I’m sorry, Tilly.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘What do you think brought it on?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ I watched Meg pull a tray of gingerbread robins from the oven the following morning and set them down to cool. ‘It must be the Seth Donovan effect.’

  ‘I can see how that would work.’ Meg’s smile was mischievous. ‘Being in love can have a transformative effect.’

  ‘Yuk,’ I said. ‘She’s been in love before and still been a bitch.’ My stomach squeezed with hunger at the sight and smell of the freshly baked bread, cakes and pastries in the Old Bakery kitchen. ‘And she can’t be in love. They’ve only been out together once.’

  ‘Remember, we’re talking about Seth Donovan,’ said Meg, as though he’d won some eligible bachelor of the year title. (Maybe he had.) ‘And they kissed.’ She paused, one hand wedged in an oven glove. ‘A lot can happen during a single kiss.’

  I rolled my eyes, feeling skittish since receiving an email that morning from one of the electricians I’d reached out to, saying the only time he could fit the work in was Saturday evening at seven. I’d gushingly accepted, not caring how much it would cost. ‘I know you and Nathan imploded the second your lips met, and you saw rainbows and fairies, but it’s not like that for everyone.’

  ‘It can happen, though.’ She gave an emphatic nod. ‘For me, for Cassie and Danny… for anyone. Even your scary sister.’

  ‘I suppose.’ I tried to remember my most significant kiss, but could only recall my worst; a tongue, darting in and out of my mouth like a lizard after a fly, from a fellow design student I’d avoided for the rest of the year. Why hadn’t I had a significant kiss?

  ‘Isn’t Rufus a good kisser?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ I indulged a memory of his lips moving on mine. ‘Not earth-shattering, but pleasant.’

  ‘Pleasant?’

  ‘Believe me, pleasant is a step up from someone sneezing in your mouth, getting snagged on your braces, chewing your bottom lip, and telling you that if you moved your mouth a bit more, you’d be a better kisser.’

  ‘Wow.’ Meg shuddered. ‘You’ve had some horrible experiences.’

  ‘All with the same person,’ I deadpanned. ‘He’s doing life for murder now.’

  She giggled. ‘Seriously, though, if Bridget’s being nicer to you and it’s all down to Seth, then maybe it’s his way of repaying you for saving Jack.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, hearing about you from a new perspective might have made Bridget think about you differently.’

  I remembered our brief conversation in the car on the way home, when she’d said something similar. ‘So, you’re saying Seth said nice things on purpose. For me?’ It made a sort of sense, considering how indebted he still felt – but didn’t tally with the way he’d avoided my eyes on his return.

  ‘Who knows?’ Meg shrugged. ‘But you told us you mentioned to him that you don’t get on with your sister and that’s why you weren’t at home much these days, so maybe he thought he was doing you a favour.’

  Her words stayed with me as I left the bakery with a bag of bread rolls and a couple of (undecorated) gingerbread robins, and on impulse I pulled out my phone to call him, but spotted a text from Gwen.

  Floorboards here, where r u??

  Almost there I texted back. At last. I ducked into my car and called Ted, to ask if he could come back to the café.

  ‘Sorry, I’m tied up,’ was the short reply.

  ‘Not literally, I hope.’

  He didn’t laugh. ‘It’ll have to wait until after Christmas now, Tilly, I’m sorry.’

  ‘But, Ted, it can’t.’

  ‘You’ll have to find someone else, then.’ I’d forgiven his dour manner in the past, having heard his wife had left him for a plumber, but suddenly I didn’t blame her. ‘Fine,’ I said, sounding churlish. ‘I will.’ The words good luck with that seemed imminent, but he managed not to say them.

  Ending the call, I was gripped by panic. The Maitlands were going to return to find their lovely new function room no closer to completion than when they’d left, and although I knew they’d be lovely about it – and would probably suggest holding the party in the main café – I’d promised it would be ready and couldn’t face letting them down.

  Maybe I could ask Cassie if Danny knew someone who could help. I’d already gone through Dad’s list of building contacts the previous evening, while Bridget read The Night Before Christmas to Romy, to no avail. Unable to face Gwen right away, I texted her to say I’d be in later on, and finally called Seth.

  He answered right away. ‘That’s odd, I was about to ring you.’

  I remembered Bridget saying he’d seemed distracted. ‘Everything OK?’ I said, relieved I hadn’t blurted out what was in the text you sent my sister yesterday? ‘Is Jack all right?’

  ‘He’s actually pretty good.’ There was a smile in Seth’s voice. ‘He was telling me about the story game you played the other night.’

  ‘It was fun,’ I said. ‘He’s pretty good at I spy, too.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have imagined him playing games like that.’

  ‘Sometimes, you have to just start,’ I said. ‘Not that I’m telling you what to do.’

  ‘Please do.’ His tone was dry. ‘It’s obvious you’re channelling Mary Poppins.’ I started at the mention of my aspirational nanny. ‘Only with better clothes and hair, obviously.’

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Honestly, Tilly, I don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t come into my life.’ His words came out in a low rush, with none of the hesitancy I’d sensed when he’d come home with Bridget. ‘Though obviously I’d have preferred it to have been less dramatic, without any near-drownings.’

  ‘Let’s not go there again.’ I purposely kept my voice light. ‘You’ve made it clear how grateful you are, you don’t need to keep on thanking me.’

  ‘About the other night—’

  ‘Bridget loved it,’ I said. ‘She’s been in a brilliant mood since, and has been very nice to me.’

  ‘She has?’ He sounded pleased. ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘Whatever you said about me, it worked.’

  ‘She couldn’t believe you hadn’t told her about saving Jack,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t believe it either.’

  ‘Well, she knows now.’

  ‘I did go on about you a bit.’ He gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘But I got the impression she didn’t want to talk about family, so I shut up in the end.’

  ‘Family’s a bit of a sore point, I’m afraid.’

  ‘So I gathered.’

  ‘I was expecting her to be hungover after your date, but your te
xt perked her up no end.’ Why had I mentioned the text?

  ‘It did?’

  ‘Whatever you said, I think she needed to hear it.’ Now I was fishing for details.

  ‘That’s good.’ He sounded relieved. ‘She’s a wonderful and interesting woman,’ he said. ‘I’ve never met anyone like her, and—’

  ‘Romy and Jack got on well, too.’ It was rude to butt in, but hearing him sing Bridget’s praises felt a bit weird – though, obviously, I was glad that they’d got on.

  ‘I hope they’ll see more of each other. I think it’ll be good for Jack to see someone apart from me.’

  ‘Have you heard from your mother?’ I wondered idly what he was wearing, and remembered I still had the clothes he’d lent me.

  ‘That’s why I was going to call you.’

  ‘Oh?’

  A sigh wafted down the line. ‘She’s coming back tomorrow, and I know it’s to try and persuade Jack and me to stay at Oaklands over Christmas, which she says is a time for families to be together, and I’d prefer Jack not to be here, in case things get heated.’

  ‘Are they likely to?’

  ‘Do you really need to ask?’

  ‘Fair point,’ I said. ‘Shall I ask Bridget to have him over at our house?’

  ‘I’d rather he was with you.’ His words were instant and heartfelt. ‘What with you being his official “nanny”.’

  In the rear-view mirror, I saw that my eyes were shiny and my cheeks were peony-pink. About to say yes, and that I might need to take him with me to the café, I suddenly remembered. ‘Oh shoot, I can’t, Seth. I’m going to a wedding tomorrow.’ And I need to find a floor fitter.

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Seth. ‘With Rufus. Your sister mentioned it.’ I recalled how he’d seemed a bit off with me back at the cottage, and wondered what else Bridget had said. She’d probably told him that this was my first ‘grown-up’ relationship, and how I’d never gone out with anyone for longer than a month before. Perhaps he disapproved. ‘I promised I’d go,’ I said, wondering at the pang of regret that tugged at my insides.

  ‘Not to worry.’ I had the sense he was holding back from saying something different. ‘I’ll make sure things stay calm here, and do something nice with Jack before she arrives.’