A Perfect Cornish Christmas

by Phillipa Ashley

  She helped Jude pack up the books, banners and paraphernalia from the stall, grateful that they were busy and there was little time for conversation as they ferried stuff to and from his car. He went off with a final load of kit, leaving the stall bare, and planning to come back only to take down the canopy.

  Scarlett exhaled and sipped from a flask of water to try to steady herself. Even if the postcard confirmed that her mum and Hayden had had an affair, it didn’t mean that he was her father. Although she was probably grasping at straws, because it was barely credible her mother had had flings with two different men.

  She was glad of a few minutes to herself to try to tame her rampaging thoughts. Jude was away longer than she’d expected so she took the bag of empty bottles over to one of the large recycling bins a few yards behind the stall. She was about to post the first bottle through the slot when she heard the voices of her mother and Hayden coming from behind the recycling skip.

  ‘That offer of the drink still stands even if Roger can’t make it – or doesn’t want to.’ Hayden was as bullish as ever, and making no attempt to lower his voice. ‘We could talk about the bad old days. Cheer you up a bit. I know something’s not right between you and him or he’d be down here with you. You know what happened that time you were let loose on your own in Porthmellow.’

  ‘And what would Fiona think about you asking me out for a drink?’ Anna’s tone was icy.

  Hayden laughed. ‘Fiona? She won’t care. We’re not joined at the hip, you know. She never minds me seeing an old friend, and anyway–’ he lowered his voice but not by much ‘–what she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her. Silence is golden, eh?’

  Scarlett’s stomach clenched.

  ‘Not always,’ her mum muttered.

  A car horn tooted and Scarlett missed Hayden’s reply. She strained her ears to hear.

  ‘You don’t look a day older than you did at the beach party, Anna. You’re still a very attractive woman.’

  ‘Even if that were true, and I doubt it very much, I certainly feel much older,’ her mum said sharply. Scarlett listened harder, the bottle still in her hand. ‘We both are.’

  ‘I often think of what might have been, between us, that is.’

  ‘You’d be better off thanking your lucky stars for what you have.’

  Hayden sighed dramatically. ‘Oh, Anna, sometimes I think we ended up with the wrong people. You can’t deny there was a spark between us. It’s a shame we never had the chance to kindle it beyond that one time.’

  ‘Once was more than enough!’ her mother said.

  Scarlett dropped the bottle on the cobbles. ‘Oh shit!’

  No one could fail to hear the crash and in seconds her mother was by her side.

  ‘Scarlett! Are you OK, darling?’

  Hayden sauntered up, a smirk on his face. ‘Oh dear. Butterfingers.’

  ‘She could have been hurt. Has the glass cut you?’

  ‘No. I’m fine.’ Scarlett tried to make light of the accident.

  ‘Want me to take a look? I’m a trained first aider,’ Hayden said.

  ‘No! I’m absolutely fine,’ Scarlett blurted. ‘I’m more worried about the smashed glass on the cobbles.’

  Jude jogged over. ‘I heard the noise. What’s happened? Scarlett? Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes! Will people please stop asking me that?’

  ‘We’re only concerned about you, darling,’ her mother said.

  ‘I’m OK. My hands are cold in these silly gloves.’ She held up her fingers. ‘All I need to do is clear up the glass before someone is hurt.’

  She crouched down, wanting to hide away from everyone and the reality of the conversation she’d overheard.

  Jude knelt down next to her. ‘Don’t use your hands. I’ll get some newspaper.’

  ‘I’ll find a brush from one of the stalls,’ her mother said.

  Hayden stood there. ‘Anything I can do?’

  ‘You can take the canopy down on the stall,’ Jude said, glancing up at him, sensing his father’s presence wasn’t wanted. ‘If you don’t mind, Dad,’ he added, a little less frostily.

  Hayden shrugged and grinned. ‘Anything to help my son.’

  He strolled off. Scarlett straightened up, finally meeting Jude’s eyes. ‘Sorry, the bottle slipped out of my hands.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.’ He was so soothing and eager to make her feel better; Scarlett could have wept. He was lovely in every way, so in tune with her, and she’d fancied him so much. Now, the very idea made her shudder. Perhaps the reason they’d had such a bond was precisely because they were related. Hadn’t she read somewhere that half-siblings who had never known each other could fall in love when they met? Or was that total bollocks?

  Her head swam and she thought she might throw up.

  Her mum arrived with a yard brush and a brisk smile. ‘Here we go. Just stand aside, Scarlett, and take a few deep breaths. You look awful.’

  Scarlett was in no state to protest, so she watched as her mother swept the broken glass into the newspaper that Jude gathered up and disposed of in a bin. Hayden had taken the canopy off the stall and finally gone to meet Fiona, and soon after Anna went to meet her art class friend for a lift home.

  Scarlett was finally alone with Jude and it was all she could do not to cry. She wanted to blurt out that she’d found the card and what she’d overheard between Hayden and her mother, but the implications of it were too horrible to give voice to.

  Jude gave the vicinity of the stall a quick scan before joining her on the almost-empty quayside. ‘Well, I think that’s it. It’s been an eventful night, much busier than I expected and a lot more fun. That’s mostly down to you …’ he added, and the light shone in his eyes. ‘Thanks for your help.’

  Now, hyper alert to his slightest change in body language, Scarlett had a sickening sense that he might be about to kiss her so she stepped back. ‘No problem,’ she muttered.

  His eyes clouded with confusion, then he peered hard at her.

  ‘Sorry. People are around,’ she muttered and tried to soften her comment with a smile.

  Jude glanced over her shoulder. ‘And? Why would they care about watching us? We’re only talking, and it’s none of their business anyway.’

  ‘I’m probably being silly,’ she said, telling herself she was being paranoid about Jude being about to kiss her. If he had been, he certainly wasn’t now, judging by the edge to his voice and confusion on his face, and there might still be an explanation for the card and Hayden’s remarks about the night he and Anna had slept together. She mustn’t overreact, but nonetheless, she shuddered at the very possibility.

  ‘Cold?’ His brow furrowed in concern again. ‘Do you want my coat around you?’ He’d already started to take it off.

  ‘No. No, I’m fine.’ She stiffened, fighting the urge to get away from him, and the whole situation, as fast as possible.

  He shrugged, obviously nettled by her terse response. ‘OK. So I’ll see you soon?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve got a client meeting in Exeter tomorrow so I’ll be out most of the day.’

  She saw his body tense as he realised how desperate she was to get away from him.

  ‘OK. I’ll call you tomorrow after you get back from your meeting,’ he said, hesitantly.

  ‘It could run on. I might be late home. Probably be knackered when I get home too after the drive.’

  His eyes bored into her. She wanted to melt through the cobblestones. ‘Then I’ll wait for you to call me,’ he said, his tone dropping about twenty degrees.

  ‘Good plan.’ She flashed him what she hoped was a friendly smile. Every moment in his presence was excruciating. Surely this couldn’t be happening to either of them?

  Once again, the urge to ask him about the postcard loomed in her mind … She wanted to admit her suspicions, but there was absolutely no way she could think of to broach the subject.

  It seemed as if the unthinkable might be true. What if Ha
yden Penberth was her father and Jude her half-brother? And if her mother didn’t want to say who her father was because she’d been high or pissed or both and really couldn’t remember who she’d slept with, how would she ever know for sure?

  ‘Scarlett. Are you sure you’re only tired? Nothing else is wrong?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course, just tired. I’ve had a lovely time, but it’s been a long day.’ She gave a pantomime yawn. ‘I take my hat off to you, these festivals are exhausting.’

  His mouth lifted in a brief smile. ‘And it’s a very nice hat.’ He nodded at the brim. ‘The mistletoe is a nice touch.’

  ‘Mistletoe?’ She groaned inwardly. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’

  ‘Really?’ He waggled his eyebrows above the mask, obviously taking her comment about only being tired at face value. ‘Are you sure?’

  Her body ought to have responded in that fluttery, deliciously painful way. Instead, she simply felt sick.

  ‘Yes. Really. Look, sorry to be a party pooper but I need to get my beauty sleep.’

  ‘I’m sure you don’t. This is probably the worst time ever to say this. I can see you’re knackered and stressed about tomorrow but I have to say this or I might lose my nerve. I had a great time tonight. All of that was down to you.’

  Scarlett stifled a squeak of horror as Jude went on.

  ‘These past few weeks I’ve felt happier than I have for a very long time. I don’t need to spell out why that is. It’s been hard to open up to the possibility of … of caring for someone else so deeply again. Now I know I’ve shut people out for far too long.’

  He smiled again. She could not bring herself to speak, just stared at him, her lips parted in absolute guilt and horror. He took it as licence to carry on and took her hands.

  ‘You’ve changed all that. I’d hate it if we missed our chance.’ His eyes flashed sexily behind his mask, but Scarlett stood there as if she’d been turned to stone. She knew in her head that she fancied him and he was a kind, gorgeous, lovely man. She knew that in any other circumstances, she’d have said all those things, but these were the circumstances and – just for a moment – she thought he sounded exactly like his father.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la …’ Ellie sang along to the carols playing in the Harbour Café the morning after the festival.

  She’d come straight to work from Cove Cottage and had been helping serve up the breakfasts before laying out festive goodies under the counter, ready for coffee time. She carefully arranged stollen slices and mulled wine bread from the local bakery, along with a homemade strudel, alongside seasonal savouries. The aromas alone would make anyone’s mouth water; piled on platters and cake stands right in front of the customers’ eyes, they’d be sure to fly off the shelves.

  Her boss joined her behind the counter, a fresh tray of mince pies in her hands.

  ‘Wow, Ellie, you seem very lively this morning considering it was festival night last night. Whatever it is you’re on, I’ll have some.’

  Ellie tried and failed to suppress a cheeky smile. ‘I’m knackered, to be honest.’

  Tina raised an eyebrow. ‘Sleepless night?’

  Ellie felt her cheeks heat up and took the tray from Tina. ‘Do you think we’ve got enough mince pies?’ she asked, popping the pies under the counter display.

  ‘You can never have too many,’ said Tina. ‘And though it’s none of my business, I think he’s very good for you.’

  Ellie thought so too and while she finished the pie display, Aaron was all she could think about. She hadn’t had a lot of sleep, it was true, but most of that was down to good reasons, even if Julian Mallory had crept into her thoughts when she’d woken.

  Tina went back into the kitchen to prep the sandwich fillings for lunch, leaving Ellie on counter duty. A group of ladies from the knit and knatter arrived and settled in the corner with cappuccinos and their latest project. They were the only customers and the slight lull gave Ellie a moment to think about Aaron’s Christmas gift, which she’d had her eye on for a while in one of the harbour shops. She’d agonised over what to get him – if anything – and eventually settled on a very nice pen as she’d noticed he took an old biro to his business meetings. It seemed to be the right blend of thoughtful, personal and practical. She’d no idea if he would get her anything but she decided to buy it after her shift.

  After the previous evening, she’d allowed herself to think of the longer-term future for the first time in a long while. Her roots really did seem to lie in Porthmellow now and the invitation to the Carmans’ Boxing Day party was symbolic of their relationship moving on.

  She was acutely aware that it would be her first family occasion with Aaron, and that his extended family would be there. It felt ‘serious’, and despite knowing and liking the Carmans, she was a little nervous. She knew she’d be under scrutiny, even in the friendliest way, but was also honoured they wanted to welcome her into the family. Aaron’s face had almost cracked when she’d happily accepted, his grin was so wide. His pleasure made Ellie happy too, but reminded her that her own family wouldn’t be together.

  Ellie served a couple with mincemeat scones and gingerbread lattes, and a family arrived for hot chocolates and mince pies topped with clotted cream. Gradually the café was filling up, and she’d just decided to fetch Tina from the kitchen and collect a fresh bottle of gingerbread coffee syrup when the door opened.

  A woman lingered on the threshold as if she wanted to size the place up, leaving the door open behind her. A blast of wind, straight off the sea, rattled the window and lowered the temperature. She was striking and willowy, ensconced in a post-box red maxi coat and wearing black high-heeled boots. Her long, platinum-blonde hair had been left loose and was striking against the brightness of her coat.

  Ellie wished the blonde would make up her mind and the knitting ladies were also darting disapproving looks in the stranger’s direction.

  The customer decided, closing the door behind her and approaching the counter. She glanced up at the menu boards and wrinkled her nose, the tip of which was magenta from the cold, making Ellie think of an exotic bird. Actually … that hair was familiar. Several strands of it had fallen onto the pasties at the festival … It was the woman who’d loudly demanded gluten-free pasties.

  ‘Morning. What can I get you?’ Ellie asked cheerfully, hoping that the café menu would meet the blonde’s requirements.

  The blonde glanced at the name badge on Ellie’s uniform. ‘You must be Ellie?’ she said.

  It was an unusual response to ‘what can I get you?’, but Ellie was used to all sorts. ‘Yes. I am,’ she said, still smiling.

  ‘Eleanor Joan Latham?’ the blonde repeated.

  Ellie’s skin prickled. ‘May I ask why you need to know?’ she said politely, noting that Tina had come back from the kitchen with a tub of salad. She guessed Tina’s ears were waggling furiously as she arranged the stollen slices on the display.

  ‘So you are Ellie,’ said the blonde with a satisfaction that made Ellie’s hackles rise.

  However, she was a customer and Ellie was determined to be polite. ‘Yes. Have we met? Is this anything to do with the festival?’ she asked, trying to ignore the urge to ask what business it was of hers.

  The blonde pursed her lips. ‘Hmm. I thought Aaron might have mentioned me – but on the other hand, I’m not too surprised he hasn’t.’ She offered a leather-gloved hand across the counter. ‘I saw you last night. I’m Liza. Liza Carman. I’m Aaron’s wife.’

  Ellie felt as if a lightning bolt had struck her. She managed to squeeze out two syllables. ‘His wife?’

  ‘Yes. And I thought I ought to inform you that I intend to name you in our divorce petition.’ Liza lowered her hand when it became obvious that Ellie was in no fit state to take it, even if she’d wanted to. ‘I assume you’re sleeping with Aaron.’

  It was a statement, not a question. Ellie’s throat seized up. The ladies from
the knitting circle were no longer interested in their tree decorations, but had all homed in on the counter scene like meerkats. Their necks must be stiff from straining to hear, although Liza wasn’t keeping her voice down.

  ‘I can see I’ve shocked you. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so blunt. Aaron wants a divorce on the grounds of five years’ separation and I was going to agree, but then I saw you with him at the festival and I thought to myself, why don’t I make things far more interesting by divorcing him for adultery.’ Her voice was infused with bitterness and hurt, but Ellie was in no mood to be charitable after being confronted in public.

  ‘Hold on a minute!’ Ellie found her voice. ‘You can’t come into my place of work accusing me of – of – things.’

  ‘So, you’re denying it?’ Liza asked, her eyebrows rising rapidly.

  ‘No. Yes. Look, there’s no way I’m discussing any of this here. You’ll have to wait until I’ve finished work. In fact, I don’t have to talk to you about my personal life at all.’

  ‘Ellie. Can I help?’ Tina directed a laser stare at Liza. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave, madam. I can’t have anyone upsetting or harassing my staff.’

  Liza laughed. ‘Upsetting? I’ve only told the truth. I wouldn’t dream of eating in a shitty little hole like this, anyway.’

  Tina puffed up. ‘Right, that’s it. Please leave my premises immediately or I’ll call the police.’

  ‘It’s OK, Tina. This is my fault. I’ll deal with it.’

  ‘Not until this customer has left the premises.’ Tina really was magnificent, but Ellie wanted to curl up and die of shame. She was surprised the knitting ladies’ jaws hadn’t unhinged and clattered onto the floor. The other customers were all staring at the sideshow in horror and fascination.