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Confetti at the Cornish Café: The perfect summer romance for 2018
Phillipa Ashley
‘Warm and funny and feel-good. The best sort of holiday read.’ Katie Fforde‘Filled with warm and likeable characters. Great fun!’ Jill MansellThe heart-warming new novel in Phillipa Ashley's bestselling Cornish Cafe series.Cal and Demi are preparing to launch their beloved Kilhallon Resort in Cornwall as a wedding venue. With the cliff-top setting and coastal views, it's the perfect place for a magical ceremony.But their first clients are no ordinary couple. The bride and groom are internationally famous celebrities Lily Craig and Ben Trevone. As secrets surface and truths are told, can Demi and Cal ensure that Kilhallon's first wedding is a success? One thing’s for sure, this will be a Cornish celebration to remember . . .Recommended for readers who loved Summer at Shell Cottage, The Cornish House, Tremarnock and Poldark.
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2017
Copyright © Phillipa Ashley 2017
Phillipa Ashley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © May 2017 ISBN: 9780008191887
Version 2018-05-02
For John,
Happy 30
wedding anniversary
‘My heart is, and always will be, yours.’
Jane Austen – Sense and Sensibility
Table of Contents
Cover (#u9defb9e1-18c2-502f-8855-244041c74701)
Title Page (#ucf40dc2b-f40d-5b9a-b3c0-9808823f81ec)
Copyright (#u489e5d55-97aa-515d-b92d-b1800dcd4caf)
Dedication (#uf0381671-23c7-53eb-ba9b-8e4cde59c1ca)
Epigraph (#u89172a53-1479-5ba7-a0a9-12ad53ad63ff)
Prologue (#u6da3cec2-a7fd-5a47-9ba3-e028d6cbdb82)
Chapter One (#udeec2396-9a62-54a2-a01f-1020f85e072a)
Chapter Two (#uba7dade3-d7bc-5e38-b1ae-350693a5c0be)
Chapter Three (#uc1b01ce7-916d-5462-9600-d0c2f57ffe86)
Chapter Four (#u3f0fbb78-bb5f-54ec-a79b-f0364af35518)
Chapter Five (#u6e90cbf8-ec98-54a3-aa40-a21e16d5b8d3)
Chapter Six (#u7adb34a9-05c6-58d3-8823-9a59af233689)
Chapter Seven (#u14700081-9d66-5028-afb5-51b527ea8c56)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Recipes (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading… (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
By the Same Author (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ua81b3b30-2ce4-541f-b6f5-9afafde0bc4b)
Kilhallon Park, Cornwall
Late February
‘Good morning and …’
I reach out my hand to turn off the radio alarm and I hit something else. Not the cold metal of the radio, but warm skin … hairy skin … and I know it’s not my dog, Mitch, because the skin next to me has smooth, firm muscle beneath it: human, not canine.
‘Are you awake, Demi?’
At the sound of his voice, I open my eyes and Cal’s face comes into focus in the dim light of this late February morning. Propped up on one elbow, he smiles down at me as I slowly surface from a deep sleep in our bed. Yes, our bed. Mine and Cal’s. It’s been over eight weeks since I moved into the main farmhouse with him but I still have to pinch myself when I think of all that’s happened since I arrived at Kilhallon Park last Easter.
Cal Penwith was – still is – my boss, but he’s also now, my … ‘boyfriend’? That makes him sound like we’re still at school and ‘partner’ sounds as if we’re sharing an office in an accountancy firm. ‘Lover’? Definitely, but also much more than that. I suppose we’re officially ‘a couple’. Christmas marked the turning point in our relationship and we not only share the same bed now but the same home and, perhaps, some of the same hopes and fears.
‘Were you dreaming?’ Cal asks, amusement glinting in his deep brown eyes. That look may seem charming and sexy but I know it hides a world of danger. You might as well bathe in the still waters of Kilhallon Cove on a summer’s day and think they could never rise up and batter you onto the rocks as believe that Cal Penwith isn’t trouble.
‘Um, I thought I was back in the cottage, and that the alarm had gone off.’
He smiles a mischievous smile. ‘Ah, but I’m your alarm now.’ He dances his fingers towards the top of the duvet. ‘And I’m a lot more fun to wake up with than Radio St Trenyan.’
I huff and hesitate before replying, to tease him, although he knows that I know that he’s totally right. ‘Mmm. Maybe. Just a little bit.’
‘More than a little bit, I hope.’ Cal peels back the duvet and plants a kiss on my shoulder. The warmth of his lips combats the instant chill of the air hitting my skin. The seventeenth-century farmhouse’s central heating hasn’t been upgraded for thirty years because Cal’s ploughed any spare cash into turning Kilhallon from a rusty old caravan site into a ‘boutique eco resort’. Our guests pad about barefoot on their underfloor heating while we grab another blanket, but that’s fine by me. The business comes first and I don’t mind, especially when I have Cal here by my side.
‘Brrr.’
Sleet rattles against the sash window, driven by a wind straight off the Atlantic Ocean. I’m shivering, although that might not be totally down to the sub-zero temperatures. I snatch the duvet up to my chin.
‘I’ll keep you warm, if you want me to,’ says Cal with a wicked grin, pulling the cover back again. He raises his eyebrow at the sight and, in return, my body tingles as my eyes adjust to being awake and I appreciate the view of him in our bed. Even after a Cornish winter there are still tan lines at his neck and arms, a hint of summer gold lingers on his skin. He spends most of his time outdoors, working on the cottages and campsite in all weathers. Of course I want him to keep me warm. Leaving the heat of my bed and Cal’s body to head out into the winter sleet is about as appealing as mucking out Cal’s ‘lively’ horse, Dexter, but work comes first, doesn’t it?
‘We have tons to do today. Haven’t you forgotten this is the most important day ever for Kilhallon Park and Demelza’s Cafe?’ I say.
Reminding myself about our big – make that humungous – day sends a shiver down my spine. Demelza’s Cafe is my responsibility: it was my idea to set it up on the coast path as part of Kilhallon, Cal’s new boutique holiday resort on the far west Cornish coast. Cal invested a pot of money in it and named it after me. No pressure there, then … Not that I don’t love running it more than anything I’ve ever done in my life.
