The Cornish Cream Tea Summer

‘And you are?’ He held his hand out, the gesture welcoming but his tone slightly threatening. This, she realized as she shook his hand, must be Daniel. Marmite scrabbled in her arms, pawing at him, and Daniel ruffled the dog’s ears affectionately.

‘I’m Lila, Charlie’s cousin. You’re Daniel.’

‘I am. You live in London, is that right?’

Lila nodded and said, ‘So she’s mentioned me, then?’

‘Not a lot, but I’ve heard your name before.’

‘It’s Delilah officially, but Lila for short,’ she explained.

‘Charlie and her family all seem to have unusual names,’ he smiled. ‘Bonnie, Vince, Charlene – and now Delilah. It’s nice to meet you. Charlie didn’t mention you were coming to stay.’

‘Charlie didn’t know,’ Lila admitted. ‘But it’s lovely to meet you, too. I’ve heard lots about you. All good things. My aunt Bonnie has a tendency to exaggerate, but on this occasion, she hasn’t.’

‘I’m not going to ask what that means, but shall we go in – if you’re on your way to Charlie’s?’

‘Sure. I could make you a cup of tea.’

‘Or I could make you one. You’re the guest, after all.’ He held out his hand, and after a second Lila realized he was offering to take her case. She handed it to him and stretched her fingers out – she hadn’t realized she’d been gripping the handle so hard.

‘Do you live with Charlie, then? How long have you been together, now?’

Daniel gave her a sideways glance as they walked along Coral Terrace. ‘No, my house is behind us, a couple of roads further towards the beach. We’ve been together since August, so … six months.’

‘And it’s true love?’ Lila asked. He turned to look at her, almost tripping on a raised paving stone in the process, and she inwardly cursed herself for being so bold.

‘Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with Charlie? You’re close, I assume, since you’ve come all this way to see her?’

He stopped at a pretty white terraced house with a bold red front door; a couple of pots of pink and blue flowers that Lila couldn’t name stood on the windowsill. There was no front garden but then, with the beach so close, Lila wasn’t sure she’d miss it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lived somewhere with any kind of garden, and even the roof terrace of her mum’s flat was only graced with their presence if they had a sudden desire to watch the sunset, or lie on loungers and drink wine when the weather was sunny enough.

Daniel opened the front door and looked at her expectantly. ‘Oh,’ she said, realizing she hadn’t answered his question. ‘We don’t see each other that often, but we get along.’

‘And this impromptu visit is because …?’ He stepped into a tiny hallway at the bottom of a narrow flight of stairs, one doorway off it into the living room. She followed him into the bright, airy space. It had slightly scuffed wooden floors and white walls, with several framed photographs spaced sparingly along them. Lila stepped closer to examine them. They were local: of the food market, Charlie’s bus, the beach at sunset. Daniel walked through the living room and into the kitchen. He filled the kettle and switched it on.

‘They’re Reenie’s,’ he said. ‘Has Charlie told you about her?’

‘No, we haven’t had much of a chance to talk. She was busy on the bus, but she said I could get sorted in the spare room, and …’ Marmite knocked against her leg. He was twisting his lead around his small body as if he wanted to wrap himself up in it. She crouched and untangled him, then unclipped his lead.

‘Charlie’s done amazing things with Gertie,’ Daniel said.

Lila could hear the fridge door opening and closing, the sound of a teaspoon chinking against ceramic as she went to gaze at each photograph in turn, looking at the village in its different states: dark and moody, the clouds low over the choppy sea; peach and amber at sunset; everything awash with midday sunshine. She got a sense of Porthgolow’s personality from these photos, almost as strongly as she had from walking along the seafront and visiting the market herself.

‘Gertie? Oh, that was the name of Hal’s bus, wasn’t it? Now the Cornish Cream Tea Bus.’

‘Milk? Sugar?’

‘Milk and two sugars, please.’

Daniel handed her a mug and sat down, clasping his own cup in both hands.

Lila perched on the other sofa, so she was at right angles to him. Daniel leaned forwards expectantly, and she had the sense she was about to be interrogated.

‘So you’re Charlie’s cousin – remind me which side of the family?’

‘My mum, Tabitha, is Charlie’s mum Bonnie’s sister.’

Daniel nodded and rubbed his jaw. He had a confident swagger – understandable, Lila thought, given his good looks, even if they were a bit too classic for her tastes – but he also had an immediate warmth and kindness. She prided herself on being able to read people, and she decided that Charlie had found herself a good man. Before today, Lila couldn’t remember the last time she’d met a good man, let alone been able to claim him.

‘And you’re here for a holiday, but you didn’t check with Charlie that you could stay with her first?’

‘She offered, when I saw her.’

Daniel laughed. ‘Of course she did. She would probably offer her spare room to a stranger if they asked. But you’re …’ His words trailed away and he went completely still, and Lila realized this wasn’t an interrogation. He didn’t need her to contribute anything, he was simply figuring things out for himself. It made her restless.

‘I should probably explain all this to Charlie when she’s finished work.’ She gestured to her wheelie case, now sitting in the corner of the room.

‘You’re not just here for a holiday, are you?’

Lila pressed her lips together, lifted her shoulders in a barely there shrug.

Daniel rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look cross, just amused. ‘So, Charlie’s got herself a lodger.’

Lila hung her head. ‘Look, it’s … my mum said that Charlie was so happy here, she thought it might be good for me to have a complete break from everything. Job and friends and … London’s a bit of a disaster zone for me, at the moment. The parts I know, anyway.’

When she forced herself to meet Daniel’s gaze, there was compassion in his eyes. ‘Talk to Charlie,’ he said. ‘I’m sure she’ll be understanding. And Porthgolow is a better place than any to recharge your batteries.’

‘You’re not mad that I’m here?’

‘What do I have to be mad about? I’ve only just met you, and if you and Charlie are close, then I’m looking forward to getting to know you.’

‘I promise I won’t get in the way.’

Daniel stood and, as he was passing, placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘I know you won’t. Get settled in; Charlie will be back in a couple of hours. See you later, Lila.’

‘Bye, Daniel. And thank you.’

When he was gone, she kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the sofa, then lifted Marmite onto her lap. The dog wriggled for a moment and then settled, like a hot-water bottle, on her stomach. It had been a long drive and now, with the thought of having to tell Charlie what she had done, and that she wasn’t exactly here for a holiday, the emotional exhaustion was almost worse than the physical. She closed her eyes, thankful for the chance to let everything – most of all her thoughts – rest for a moment.

‘Lila. Lila.’

She was woken with a gentle shake, and blinked and pulled herself up to sitting. Charlie was peering down at her and Lila could see, beyond her, that the day had lost its light. She had a sudden yearning for the long, shimmering evenings of midsummer. The end of winter couldn’t come soon enough.

‘Sorry, I closed my eyes for a moment.’

‘Don’t worry about that. Have you settled in OK?’

Lila glanced guiltily at her suitcase, still exactly where she had left it when she’d walked in with Daniel. The bag containing her burrito sat on top. Her mouth watered: she was sure it would be delicious cold. ‘Uhm.’

Charlie went into the kitchen and Lila pushed herself off the sofa and looked at her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. Her long dark hair had mostly come loose from its ponytail, her mascara was smudged and her skin was pale, enhancing the spray of dark freckles across her nose and cheeks. She looked ghastly.

‘Shall I go and unpack now?’

‘I got us some Thai food,’ Charlie said, ‘so if you’re happy to wait, we can have this while it’s hot. You’re still a veggie?’

‘Yup. And that smells amazing.’ She sent a silent apology to the discarded burrito, and sat at the small round table in the corner of the living room while Charlie plated up and uncorked a bottle of white wine.

‘It’s so lovely that you’re here,’ Charlie said, once they’d clinked glasses. ‘I mean, unexpected, but in a good way. I thought we’d stay in tonight, let you catch up after the drive, and then tomorrow I can introduce you to everyone, maybe take you to the pub.’

‘I met Daniel earlier. On my way here.’

‘I know.’ Charlie twirled her fork in her noodles, then looked straight at Lila. ‘He said I should talk to you, about your … holiday plans.’

Lila slumped in her chair. ‘It was – is … maybe he got the wrong idea, or—’

‘How long do you want to stay, exactly?’

‘I don’t know,’ Lila admitted. ‘It might even be less than two weeks. I just … things have gone a bit wrong, in London. Mum said … well, she keeps getting updates from Aunt Bonnie, and going on about how fabulously you’re doing, how Cornwall has been the making of you. She suggested I should come and see if it could sort me out, too.’

Charlie laughed. ‘I’m not sure I needed “sorting out” when I came here. But it was exactly the right thing for me. And …’ She chewed her lip, and Lila crossed her fingers under the table. ‘I stayed with Juliette and Lawrence for a really long time before I got this place. But what are your plans? What do you want to do while you’re here? And what happened in London? What are you running from? Surely you can’t be avoiding the entire city? That’s a huge-scale disaster, even for you.’

They exchanged a smile. Charlie was the one person who could say that without her taking offence. ‘Not the whole of London, just the important bits. And I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I just – I had to get away, Charlie. I was going insane, going from my flat, to Mum’s flat, to my flat. This endless, mind-numbing circle. I knew I needed to make a fresh start, but—’

‘Fresh from what? I thought you were working in that posh coffee place.’

Lila pushed a cashew around until her fork finally speared it. ‘There was this thing … But it’s over now. Nobody died and we’ve all moved on, I just need to … reset.’ She gave her cousin what she hoped was a winning smile.

Charlie didn’t return it. ‘If the best thing you can say about this … whatever it is, is that nobody died, then you probably need to tell me about it.’

‘It’s nothing. Really.’

‘Yes, Lila. It’s something. Come on. Spill the beans.’

Lila cringed at Charlie’s words: she didn’t realize how apt they were. ‘I honestly—’

‘You have to tell me, how about that? The price of you staying with me is that I get to know why you’ve come here in the first place.’

Lila glared, but Charlie was adamant. Adamant but, Lila could instantly see, sympathetic.

‘Fine,’ Lila muttered, ‘but maybe we could …’ she gestured towards the living area.

Charlie put their empty plates in the kitchen, took the bottle of wine and settled herself on a sofa. Lila sat at the opposite end and turned to face her.

‘So,’ Charlie prompted. ‘London. New start.’

‘Promise you won’t make a big deal of it,’ Lila said.

‘Make a bag deal of what, Lila?’ Charlie laughed. ‘You can stall all you want, but until you tell me, I’m not going to have an opinion about it.’

‘I lost Clara her job,’ Lila rushed. ‘I lost mine, too, but that’s inconsequential. And she’s never going to forgive me, apparently, so …’ She shrugged and sipped her wine.

‘Oh, Lila.’ Charlie sat back. ‘You and Clara? You’ve been best friends for ever! What happened, exactly?’

Lila tucked her legs under her, and Marmite jumped up and curled himself in the hole between them.

‘Clara had just been promoted,’ Lila said. ‘She was in charge of events for this large corporate company, and she’d worked so hard to get there. She had a huge reception to plan, welcoming some business partners over from America, and I was working at The Espresso Lounge and we’d got this amazing portable coffee bar. Not just a machine, but a whole bar. It was so swanky, all chrome and polished black metal, and designed exactly for those sorts of events, not food markets like down on the beach today – nothing quite so fun.’ She laughed. ‘So, I suggested that she hire me for the evening, because we didn’t just provide coffee, but a coffee experience.’

‘That sounds perfectly reasonable,’ Charlie said.

‘I thought so too,’ Lila agreed. ‘But Clara was reluctant. She said she wanted to use tried-and-tested suppliers, to make sure everything went smoothly. There could be no mishaps – not with the US partners. I felt a bit miffed, to be honest. I thought, as best mates, she should trust me. And I know now that was wrong, that friendship and business are entirely separate things, and that just because we love each other it doesn’t mean that she should hire me for her events. Obviously, it’s brilliant to realize that afterwards.’

‘You persuaded her?’ Charlie asked.

‘I think it was more like emotional blackmail,’ Lila admitted. ‘I wouldn’t let it go.’

‘So you got the gig, and took your coffee experience machine to her corporate event?’

Lila winced, remembering the apprehension she’d felt on entering that huge foyer, the champagne tower being set up, the oyster bar, the waiters all in white shirts and black waistcoats. It was as if she’d stepped into a different world – one she didn’t have a passport for. ‘I thought our coffee place was superior, but this was on another level. I wheeled in my trolley, Clara directed me to my spot, and I could see from the look in her eyes that she knew she’d made a mistake. But I had to try and do her proud.’ She chewed her fingernail.

‘You set it up?’ Charlie prompted quietly.

‘I set it up. And it was a clever contraption, this impressive coffee machine with its own minibar running along the front, slots for the custom-made espresso, latte and cappuccino cups, all glass so you could see the blends and colour transitions. It unpacked smoothly, and I thought I was doing fine. But it was a newer model than I was used to. My boss hadn’t told me he’d upgraded. Everything else was the same – the bar, the cups, the assembly – but not the machine itself. But it didn’t seem drastically different, so—’

‘You couldn’t make anyone a coffee?’ Charlie asked, grimacing.

‘I wish!’ Lila took a big gulp of wine. ‘This group of people came in, all smartly dressed, perfect hair and shiny teeth and golden skin. I could tell they were the Americans, not least because the other guests were fawning over them. I prayed they would head straight to the champagne bar, but they didn’t. They came to me. They asked me about the display and the different roasts, and I was perfect – I can do all that in my sleep. And then I tried to make this man a coffee.’ She closed her eyes at the memory. ‘There was something wrong – I’d turned the pressure up, too high maybe. At first the machine just started fizzing a bit, and I thought I’d overfilled it with water. I thought that by a couple of macchiatos in I’d be laughing. But then it made this horrible sound. It was a wrenching, gurgling, dying monster noise, and then bits of it sort of flew off and hit the bar, and the American partner, and a couple of his colleagues, and me – we were all sprayed with coffee grounds and water. Quite a lot of it.’ She put her head in her hands.

‘Holy shit,’ Charlie whispered. ‘Lila, it was an accident.’

‘Clara came over while I was trying to clean up the American. She took me aside and told me I had to go. I understood her anger, though she was reining it in then, because the event was still going on around all this mess. A couple of the waiters came to help me clean up as best I could, and then I packed away my luxury coffee bastard of a machine. I sneaked out of the foyer, where a couple of very senior-looking people were trying to calm down the American, whose face was no longer golden but purple. And that’s when I found Clara. She was in a corridor by the lifts, being spoken to by someone I presumed was her boss.’

‘They fired her.’

‘He said, “Clean this up as best you can, get the event back on track, and then go and pack up your things. You’re done.”’

Charlie pressed her hands to her lips.

‘So I stormed up to them and tried to fix it,’ Lila continued. ‘I told him it wasn’t Clara’s fault, it was mine, that I had persuaded her to let me be a part of it, that we were friends and … it had the opposite effect. It made him even angrier, and Clara – that last look she gave me as I carted the broken machine back to the van.’ Lila shook her head. ‘The next day, Giuliano fired me. Word had spread, of course, and I’d broken an expensive piece of equipment and damaged the reputation of The Espresso Lounge.’

‘And Clara?’ Charlie asked quietly. ‘What did you do about her?’

Lila huffed. She hadn’t anticipated that telling Charlie the whole story would be so energy-sapping. ‘Clara and I aren’t friends any more.’

‘You didn’t try to make it up with her?’ Charlie asked. ‘Lila—’

‘Of course I did!’ Lila shot back. ‘Of course I bloody did. But she wasn’t having any of it, and I …’ She swallowed, remembering the last time she’d gone to Clara’s flat. It must have been the fifth or sixth time she’d tried to apologize, tried a different tack, a different gift and set of words to make up for the harm she’d caused. But then Clara, after first refusing to open the door, had followed her out of the building and caught up with her on the street. At first Lila thought she had come to forgive her, to hug and make up. But it was as if she’d been storing up years of annoyance and issues with Lila, and let her have them all at once. Over a decade of friendship, reduced to all the ways that Lila had failed her, all the ways she was no good.

‘It’s over, that’s all,’ Lila said, cross that her voice chose that moment to wobble.

‘There has to be a way you can make it up to her,’ Charlie suggested. ‘Your friendship is too important to lose.’

Lila folded her arms and shrugged. ‘Not all friendships survive for ever. Ours was one that didn’t.’

‘Lila—’

‘Can I still stay? Just for a bit. Until I decide what I want to do.’

‘Of course you can,’ Charlie said, rubbing her arm. ‘And that sounds so tough. All of it. It wasn’t really your fault.’

‘It was. I forced Clara into hiring me. She knew what was best, but I wanted to help her with this new promotion. I got it wrong. Now I need to dust myself down and move on.’ Charlie gave her a sceptical look, but Lila chose to ignore it. ‘I could help you on the bus,’ she said. ‘You looked so busy today.’

‘I know, but the food markets are only once a month until May, and Porthgolow’s much quieter in the off-season. I only open a couple of days during the week, and then at weekends. I’m running these Cornish Cream Tea Tours too, but only every fortnight at the moment. So I—’

‘But you need help with those, right? I would do anything. My coffee-making skills are going begging. What I don’t know about an arabica bean or an Italian roast isn’t worth knowing. Show me the ropes, at least. You must be dying for some time off.’

Charlie took a long sip of wine and sat back against the cushions. ‘I honestly can’t offer you many hours.’

Lila shook her head. ‘Anything, Charlie. And you don’t have to pay me. You’re letting me stay here, for goodness’ sake. Let me help you out? I could be a real asset, and it would give me some time to figure things out.’ She drained her glass. ‘After all, what’s family for?’

‘What about your flat? Don’t you have rent, bills, back in London?’

Lila dropped her gaze. ‘My flat’s only on a short-term lease, and Mum said she’d help out for a couple of months, while I decide if I want to keep it. She’s given me some holiday money for this trip, too, so I can help with groceries. I’m going to pay her back once I’m all sorted.’

Charlie nodded. ‘OK. A trial run. I’ll give you a crash course in Gertie on Monday, and you never know, someone else in the village might have some work for you. We can ask around – we’re pretty close-knit.’

‘I’m getting that feeling,’ Lila said, relief making her giddy. ‘And good work with Daniel, too. You didn’t think about using your womanly rights on Leap Day and proposing?’

Charlie looked shocked. ‘That’s a bit old fashioned, isn’t it?’

‘Romantic though,’ Lila said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. Charlie threw a cushion at her. Marmite raised his nose and blinked, then returned to his snooze.

‘In this day and age, women can propose to their men – or their women – whenever they want,’ Charlie said. ‘They don’t need outdated traditions to limit them to the one day that only comes around every four years.’

‘But you have thought about it, though?’ Lila couldn’t help pushing. ‘I mean, a man like that, you must have considered spending the rest of your life with him.’

Charlie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. ‘Did your mum tell you about how we got together?’

‘Something about a life-or-death rescue?’ Lila asked. ‘I didn’t entirely believe it, because Mum overdramatizes everything, so I’m desperate to hear the truth – and I want all the delicious details, please.’ She wriggled further into the sofa cushions and settled in for a good gossip with her cousin who, when they spent time together, made her feel as if she wasn’t an only child.

Lila had told Charlie what had happened, and now she could put to the back of her mind the final, furious row with Clara. She had chosen not to examine her best friend’s accusations too closely – she had been angry, justifiably so, and it had certainly drawn a line under the whole sorry situation. Now Lila could focus on what she was going to do next, and spending a few weeks working on board a café on a double-decker bus with her cousin, the beach just outside the window, seemed a good place to start.

Chapter Three

Over the next few days, Lila got to know Porthgolow. Nobody she met had a bad word to say about it, and a few – including pub landlord Hugh, and Jonah’s mum, Amanda Kerr, went as far as to say that Charlie had saved it. Lila wasn’t sure how one person could save a village, unless Gertie the bus had magical sea-repelling skills and had somehow prevented it being flooded in a storm. But she bought in to the villagers’ enthusiasm for the place, and it certainly had a quaint, slightly worn charm about it, as if every bit of faded paint was intentional.

On her first evening, Charlie had told her about her first few months in the village, and how she had ended up with Daniel. The dramatic rescue had, in fact, happened as Lila’s mum had said. Charlie played it down, but Lila had spotted all the signs; the way she spoke quickly and breathlessly, her eyes bright. It seemed Daniel really had been in trouble, with Charlie his ‘knight in a gleaming bus’. It was almost as if she was some kind of saint, and yet, as much as Lila usually hated people who could do no wrong, it was impossible to dislike Charlie.

True to her word, Charlie had given her a Gertie crash-course on Monday morning, with an optimistic sun bouncing off the water, picking out all the details that made the bus special: the matching crockery, all reds and blues; the authentic-looking ticket machine; the cake stands that displayed Charlie’s bakes to their best advantage. Lila was particularly impressed with the coffee machine, which she regarded as her area of expertise, despite recent events. It was a compact model, but a good make, and it made an excellent espresso, Americano and latte.