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

by Karen Clarke

Felicity seemed about to speak when Digby flew at her, growling deep in his throat and we watched, transfixed, as she stared him down until he retreated to the door with a whimper.

  ‘Please can I play with Digby in the living room, Dad?’ Jack was already down from the table.

  Seth nodded and ruffled his hair. ‘Of course you can.’

  ‘You’re too soft with him,’ said Felicity, when Jack had fled with Digby hot on his heels. Still wearing her coat, she peered into the hall then shut the kitchen door.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Seth had half-risen, but sat back down again.

  ‘I need to talk to this young lady in private,’ she said, as if I wasn’t there, and when she fixed me with a penetrating gaze, I wished I wasn’t. ‘Why are you wearing my son’s cardigan?’

  Was that all? ‘I was a bit chilly,’ I said, fingering the zip. It was cosy in the kitchen, as Seth had got the fire going in the grate, and I’d unfastened the cardigan while we were eating.

  ‘Rather dressed up for a nanny,’ she said, eyeing my outfit underneath as though I’d rocked up in a cocktail dress. ‘Wouldn’t you say?’ This last bit she directed at Seth.

  ‘Please don’t be rude to Tilly.’ He was tight-lipped as he gathered our plates and stood up. ‘Why does it matter what she’s wearing?’

  ‘It matters because this woman is an imposter.’

  I wondered whether she’d been reading some Agatha Christie, because surely no one spoke like that in real life.

  ‘Imposter?’ Seth’s voice was drenched with disbelief. ‘This isn’t Murder on the Orient Express.’

  It was as if he’d caught my train of thought, and I threw him a little smile, which Felicity caught.

  ‘Why are you smiling at my son like that?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Mum,’ Seth began, but Felicity was jabbing the air in front of my face.

  ‘I know you’re not a nanny.’ Her eyes had narrowed to slits. ‘I looked you up.’

  ‘Mother, if you keep talking to Tilly like that—’

  ‘Don’t you care?’ Lifting her chin, she glared at him, her face tight with annoyance. ‘This woman has wormed her way into your life under false pretences.’

  Seth put the plates down and rubbed the crease between his eyebrows. ‘She hasn’t,’ he said, with weary forbearance.

  ‘What did you find online?’ I was genuinely curious. I wasn’t active on social media, I didn’t have a website, and I hadn’t done anything interesting enough to warrant my name coming up in a Google search.

  ‘You don’t have a website and you’re not on social media, which rang alarm bells for a start,’ she said, finally thrusting her coat off and draping it over the back of a chair. ‘Although I did come across a photo of you in a so-called design magazine with some friends, one of whom was smoking weed.’ I knew the picture she was referring to. It had been taken the night I was out with the group of designers I’d studied with, one of whom had just won an award. ‘It wasn’t weed, she was vaping,’ I said.

  ‘That’s just as bad as smoking.’

  ‘Technically, it isn’t.’

  Felicity was wearing a crimson turtleneck, and pushed the sleeves up as if preparing for a fight. ‘And you’re not registered anywhere as a childminder, or a nanny.’ There was a lot of emphasising going on.

  ‘That’s because—’

  To stop Seth saying ‘she’s not’ I said, ‘Why do you think I’m here, then?’

  That seemed to throw her. ‘That’s not the point,’ she blustered, brushing a loose strand of hair off her forehead.

  ‘You said I was here under false pretences.’

  She opened and closed her mouth then said, ‘You obviously know my son is famous in some circles and have insinuated your way into his life to either take advantage of him, or his son.’ We’d moved into bad movie territory now.

  ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

  ‘You might be planning to kidnap Jack and hold him to ransom, or work some magic on my son to get him to marry you.’ OK, we’d moved into the realms of very bad television drama.

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ I said.

  She fingered her pearls and darted a look at Seth, who’d tipped his head to look at the ceiling as if hoping he could shoot right through it. ‘Look at him!’ The words blasted out like bullets. ‘He’s a catch for any woman, but he’s been badly hurt once before and I don’t want that to happen to him again.’

  Seth’s head came down, and as his eyes grazed mine before meeting hers, I registered his surprise. ‘Mum, it’s not like that.’ He spoke more gently than I felt she deserved. ‘Tilly’s here for Jack and, no, she’s not a trained nanny, and I’m sorry I let you believe that she was, but Jack likes her, and so do I, and that’s all that really matters.’

  ‘Of course it isn’t,’ she snapped, as if ashamed by her show of vulnerability, and I wondered suddenly, what it must have been like for her, knowing Seth was racing around a track somewhere in the world, perhaps waiting for a call to say he’d been hurt – or worse. Perhaps she hadn’t been able to bring herself to watch. I wasn’t sure I could have, in her position, and felt a small and unexpected swell of sympathy.

  ‘I would never do anything to hurt Jack… or Seth.’ I didn’t look at him as I said it, and wondered whether it would help to mention Bridget. Explain that Seth’s social circle was widening, and might include his future wife and stepdaughter.

  Wow. That would be weird. Seth would be Romy’s stepfather.

  But I didn’t get round to saying anything else as she picked up her bag and strode to the door. ‘Well, now you’ve finished taking me for a fool, I think it’s time I checked on my team,’ she said. ‘Registered workmen, with business cards and a good reputation,’ she added, presumably for my benefit, colour on her cheeks. ‘And then I’ll go and sit with my grandson, if that’s OK with you.’

  ‘Of course it’s OK with me,’ said Seth, scratching the back of his neck. ‘You don’t need to be so dramatic, Mum.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what I need.’ She rounded on him. ‘I’ve given you every opportunity to do the right thing by Jack, and instead you’re…’ she swept an arm between us ‘… sitting around, playing happy families with a woman who doesn’t even have a job, as far as I can tell.’

  Why did people keep saying that?

  As she ran upstairs – no doubt to find fault with her team – I pushed back my chair and stood up. ‘I should go.’

  ‘Please don’t.’ Seth shoved his hands through his hair, his face crumpled with misery and embarrassment. ‘I’m so sorry about that.’

  ‘I don’t want to give her any more reasons to think Jack would be better off with her.’

  He let his mouth twist into a wry smile. ‘She’ll find plenty more, if she puts her mind to it,’ he said. ‘And you can’t go home, you don’t have any transport.’

  ‘I can walk to the café from here.’ Even so, I didn’t move. ‘I’ve work to do, anyway.’ Why did I keep saying that, when there was nothing I could do?

  ‘Dressed like that?’

  ‘Eighties couture is the new overalls.’ It didn’t make much sense. ‘I’ll manage.’

  Seth gripped the worktop behind him. ‘I’m sorry Mum said that. About you not having a proper job.’

  ‘It’s not the first time I’ve heard it today.’ I zipped Seth’s cardigan back up. ‘It was Rufus’s parting shot, too.’

  ‘Mum was just lashing out.’

  ‘They’re both right, though. Apart from doing up the café, I don’t have a proper job.’ I dropped back on the chair and looked at the table. ‘It was one of the things that Bridget had a bee in her bonnet about, and that’s why she thinks I’m giving your cottage a makeover,’ I said. ‘It was part of my business plan …’ I said business plan in a silly, posh voice ‘… to become a bona fide, full-time interior designer.’

  ‘Is that what you want to do?’

  I considered his words. ‘It’s what I think I should do.
Don’t get me wrong,’ I said, looking up as he started to speak. ‘I really enjoy it, but I like doing other things too, like walking tours in the summer, and I was thinking I might take that swimming instructor’s job you told me about at the pool. I’d rather take design jobs by word of mouth, if they appeal to me, than get all websitey and businessy.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Seth sat opposite, and while I knew he was just being polite because… well, because I was Jack’s saviour, I found myself saying, ‘I feel guilty, I suppose.’

  ‘Guilty?’

  ‘Because I had it easy growing up, compared to Bridget. Dad was working all hours – he hadn’t won any awards back then – and money was really tight. The nice holidays didn’t happen until after I was born.’ I paused as Digby came in and gulped water from his bowl. ‘Bridget was always ambitious and driven,’ I said, when he’d gone. ‘She thinks I’m a lazy, over-privileged brat, which I suppose I am.’

  ‘That wasn’t the impression I got.’ Seth’s smile was one of puzzled amusement. ‘I mean, I got the whole “exasperating kid sister” vibe, but she’s obviously fond of you.’

  ‘She was in a good mood because she was having dinner with you.’

  ‘I don’t think it was just that.’ He shook his head. ‘If you don’t want to work full-time, then don’t,’ he said. ‘If we’re in a position to choose what we do with our lives, why shouldn’t we, providing we’re not hurting anyone else?’

  I struggled to find an argument and failed. He made it sound not only possible, but desirable. ‘The guilt though…’ I let the words trail off.

  ‘Guilt can be a good motivator, but it seems to me you don’t need one.’ He prodded the table for emphasis. ‘You have a gift for doing the right thing at the right time… what?’ he said, as I covered my eyes and groaned.

  ‘We’re back to me being on the beach at just the right moment,’ I said, but when I peered through my fingers he was vigorously shaking his head.

  ‘No, it’s not that. You make people happy.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ Even so, his words ignited a warm glow in my stomach that I did my best to ignore. I laced my fingers together and studied my nails. I’d forgotten to paint them for the wedding – not that it mattered now. I wondered how Rufus had explained my absence to his brother, and decided I didn’t care. ‘But thanks for being nice.’

  A look of mild frustration crossed Seth’s face, but before he could speak there was the sound of drilling upstairs and Felicity stuck her head around the kitchen door.

  ‘There’s no need to stay now I’m here,’ she said, with chilly restraint. ‘You probably have things to do.’

  Ignoring Seth’s urgent protest, I pushed my chair back. The toxic atmosphere would ease if I left. ‘I’ll get my bags from the car and be out of your hair,’ I said.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was dark and cold as I approached the café, and no lights were on inside. It closed earlier during the winter months, and Gwen would have locked up in good time to catch her bus to Bigbury-on-Sea where she lived with her cousin.

  The security light came on as I walked through the empty car park to the function room, glad of the parka Seth had lent me.

  ‘You’ll have no clothes left at this rate,’ I’d said, prompting an unexpected image of him bare-chested in a rolled-down wetsuit, which had quickly warmed me up.

  I wasn’t warm now, having been buffeted by a salty wind racing off the sea, working its way through my layers. I couldn’t even feel my knees, which proved how useless ‘natural’ ten denier tights were, unless you were attending a garden party thrown by the Queen.

  I’d rejected Seth’s offer of a lift, aware that Felicity was watching from the window as I retrieved my bags from his car, and told him I’d enjoy the walk.

  ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ he’d said, hands bunched in his jeans pockets, hair tossed by the breeze, and I’d sensed again his reluctance to let me go. No wonder, as I’d been a buffer between him and his mother, I reflected, striding away as if I didn’t have a care in the world, in spite of what felt like a gale-force wind in my head, tossing my thoughts about.

  I hadn’t even said goodbye to Jack.

  Reaching the door, I rummaged in my pocket for my keys, before remembering it wasn’t my coat and they were in the handbag I’d brought for the wedding. Putting down the bags of Christmas gifts, I unclasped the handbag and felt around inside. Nothing, apart from my phone, my leather wallet, and a pen that must belong to Mum.

  The lipstick wasn’t there either, and I suddenly remembered it rolling out in Seth’s car when I’d dropped the bag. Perhaps the keys had fallen out too.

  ‘Crap,’ I muttered, switching on my phone torch and checking all the bags, but I knew the keys had been in the handbag – I remembered putting them there, and I hadn’t used them all day.

  I leaned my forehead against the cold, glass panel of the door and peered inside, but there was nothing but empty space. It was becoming impossible to imagine it with a proper floor and lights and a Christmas tree, and filled with people holding drinks, singing carols, and generally having a good time. Or, in Jerry’s case, trying to escape Gwen’s clutches. Remembering my promises, I quickly tried Gwen’s mobile on the off-chance she might have missed her bus and could let me in through the café. Guessing she’d want to know how I’d managed to secure an electrician after hours on a Saturday, at this time of year, I mentally rehearsed some answers.

  He’s the friend of a friend, and desperately needs some the cash to buy Christmas presents for his children. No. She wouldn’t want some ‘desperado or conman’ on the premises, bound to ‘make a balls-up’.

  The original electrician has said he can do the floor one-handed… too ridiculous.

  I felt a blast of relief when she didn’t pick up, and remembered her saying the mobile reception at her cousin’s house was terrible. She must be there already.

  I just about had time to walk back to the cottage but couldn’t face Felicity again, and really didn’t want to call Seth and ask him to check his car. Then again, I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to get into the function room. I rang his number.

  ‘Hello?’

  I almost dropped the phone. ‘Bridget?

  ‘Tilly!’

  ‘Why are you answering Seth’s phone?’

  ‘Why are you calling him?’ She lowered her voice before I could respond. ‘My god, his mother’s a nightmare,’ she whispered. ‘Talk about suspicious. She’s already accused me of using my daughter to try and trap Seth – did you know his actual name is Ainsley? – and warned me I won’t win. I’ve only been here ten minutes.’

  ‘What are you doing there?’

  ‘Romy kept saying Jack’s name and, to be honest, I was bored, so I thought I’d give him a ring and suggest we take the kids bowling in Kingsbridge.’

  ‘Isn’t Romy a bit young for bowling?’ I’d gone Mary Poppins again. ‘And what about her bedtime routine?’

  ‘She had a long nap this afternoon,’ said Bridget. ‘She’s bouncing off the walls right now. I needed to get out.’

  Not the most romantic of reasons, but a good excuse to see Seth again.

  ‘Where is Seth?’

  ‘He had to nip upstairs and investigate some rewiring that’s being done,’ she said. ‘I suppose your team need some supervision while you’re not here, though I imagine his mother will enjoy wielding the whip while we’re out.’

  I imagined them packed in Seth’s car, driving to the leisure centre in Kingsbridge, where I’d bumped into Seth and Jack at the swimming pool. ‘Does she mind you all going out?’

  ‘I don’t think she’s got much choice,’ said Bridget. ‘Seth looked pretty hacked off when I got here. I got the sense they’d had words.’

  I had a feeling my name might have come up. ‘Will he mind you answering his phone?’

  ‘He asked me to, on his way upstairs,’ she said. ‘How was the wedding?’

  It took a moment to make the m
ental shift. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I didn’t go.’

  ‘WHAT?’ Digby gave two loud barks, as if startled by her shout. ‘What do you mean you didn’t go?’ she said. ‘Where have you been all day?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’ I was suddenly desperate to get off the phone. My teeth were chattering and my feet had gone numb. My boots definitely weren’t made for walking, and hadn’t been designed for warmth. ‘I’m fine,’ I said, trying to sound jolly. ‘Have a nice evening, and I’ll see you later.’

  ‘But you haven’t got your car.’ If I didn’t know better, I’d have said my sister was worried about me.

  ‘When I’m done here, I’m off to meet Cassie and Meg at the Smugglers Inn,’ I said, making a snap decision. If necessary, I’d ask every person there if they knew how to lay a floor, and offer to buy them drinks for life if they’d do the job for me. ‘I’ll get a taxi home.’

  I hadn’t looked at my phone since leaving that morning, and saw that Cassie and Meg had messaged to ask how the wedding was going.

  So, is he the One? That was Meg.

  Cassie’s had asked Have you found your ‘forever man’?

  I replied in our WhatsApp group. Rufus IS the One – most likely to bury a body under his patio one day. Not so much forever man, as ‘never man’. There was another message I’d missed, from a number I didn’t recognise. It was the electrician, and as I read it, my heart dropped like a stone. Sorry, can’t do the job tonight after all, wife sick, got to take my kids to a Christmas party in Truro.

  I closed my eyes; thought about screaming, or having a quiet sob, but instead went back to the WhatsApp group. Either of you free for an emergency drink at the Smugglers? XX

  ‘I knew there was something off about Rufus, when you told us he didn’t like dogs,’ said Cassie, flipping a peanut in the air and catching it in her mouth.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that, you might choke,’ said Meg.

  ‘I mean, who doesn’t like dogs?’

  ‘People who like cats,’ I said miserably. ‘Although, he doesn’t like cats either.’

  ‘I can’t believe he tried to lock you in his car.’ Cassie pushed the bag of peanuts across the table. ‘And you reckon he’s gone all stalkery before?’