‘I told you, didn’t I? You needed a break. And,’ she added ruefully, picking up her marmalade-laden toast, ‘if your kind of break involves starting up a brand-new business and planning to take over the whole of Cornwall, then far be it from me to stand in your way.’
Charlie grinned. ‘Let’s start with Porthgolow, shall we? Once we’ve got this place back on track we can think about where to conquer next.’
‘I wouldn’t underestimate the challenge ahead, though,’ Juliette said. ‘However cool he was in that meeting, Daniel Harper’s not going to be happy if you ruin the peace and quiet of the village with a full-blown festival. He promises his guests seclusion and exclusivity.’
Charlie shrugged. ‘I’m not here to please Daniel Harper. Besides,’ she said, ‘he told me he was looking forward to it. He can’t have it both ways, and he can’t control what anyone else does, as much as he’d like to.’
‘I’ll raise my coffee to that,’ Juliette said.
Charlie clinked her mug against her friend’s and bit into her toast. She wanted to bring life back to Porthgolow, and the thought of clashing with Daniel again didn’t fill her with as much dread as, perhaps, it should have done.
Chapter Twelve
This time, Charlie wanted to see Reenie’s cottage for herself.
She left Juliette in her yoga gear and took Marmite with her. She was opening The Cornish Cream Tea Bus at around ten – she had discovered that her custom was limited before then, and while the quiet time meant she could polish the bus until it gleamed, it sometimes got boring. She only opened earlier when Paul or Amanda had an early boat trip, knowing that they, and their customers, would welcome a hot drink when they came in off the water.
She walked along Porthgolow’s main road, past The Seven Stars on her left and the beach, the jetty and Gertie on her right, and when the road started rising out of the village, she turned down a dusty track that looked as though it led nowhere. Marmite bounced at her heels, excited by the unusual terrain. The morning was sunny and clear, with only a few puffs of cloud breaking up the blue of the sky. The track was precarious, and close enough to the edge of the cliffs that sea spray frequently hit her face. Marmite yelped at each new wave, and it wasn’t long before he was soaked.
‘All right Marmite?’ she asked. He barked and bounded a few steps ahead.
And then the path ended and the yellow house stood in front of them. For the last part of the journey, she had to clamber over rocks. How was it possible for anyone – let alone an older woman, as she understood Reenie to be – to live out here? Carefully, Charlie stepped across them, pulling Marmite close, watching her footing carefully.
After the rocks came firm concrete, the foundations of the house much more stable than their surroundings. Close up, the walls were worn, but the yellow paint was thick, as if it was given frequent new coats.
Charlie walked round to the front of the building, feeling more confident now the ground below her was solid and flat. Had this been an old outpost, somewhere to watch the water from, or a weather station? There were often odd little buildings nestled along the very edge of the coastline but, as far as Charlie knew, they were rarely residential. Reenie’s house had two floors, four windows at the front and a white door, though there was no number or name. What had she been expecting? Mermaid Cottage?
On the small patch of ground between the house and the cliff edge, there were a few terracotta pots containing blue and pink plants that Charlie couldn’t name, and a wind chime hung from a hook screwed into a window frame. Charlie wondered how any of it survived; was Reenie forever replacing pots lost to the wind? Did the waves batter against her front door like unwelcome visitors?
She knocked; two loud raps that she was sure would be heard, even above the churn of the water below. She waited, staring out at the sea, and was about to knock again when the door swung inwards, and Charlie found herself staring into the sharp eyes of Reenie the mermaid.
‘Hello,’ she said.
Reenie was shorter than her and had long, grey hair streaked through with white. She was wearing a red shirt and jeans, and her feet were bare. No wispy dresses, trails of seaweed or signs of fish scales. Charlie was disappointed that she was wearing jeans; it seemed too ordinary, somehow.
‘Hello,’ Reenie echoed. Her voice was light, as if it might float away on the wind.
‘I’m Charlie Quilter.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’m staying in Porthgolow, with Juliette and Lawrence. I’ve just started up a new business, running the—’
‘Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Yes, I’ve seen it. It’s hard to miss.’ She turned her head, and Charlie looked back towards the bay, but the corner of Reenie’s house was between her and a view of the bus.
‘Ah. OK. And this is Marmite.’ She gestured towards her dog, and Marmite, as if being given permission, pattered forward and put a paw on Reenie’s leg.
Reenie made no move to stroke him. ‘Hello, Marmite.’
‘So, I came to see you because—’
‘Don’t start your sentences with so, girl. Horrendous habit. You wouldn’t start a conversation with therefore, would you? Therefore I have come to see you. Speak sense; I assume you have got something to say, seeing as you’ve bothered to come all the way out here?’
‘I have.’ Charlie’s voice sounded as small as she felt. She would have to give Jonah a few home truths about his mysterious mermaid. ‘I’m holding a festival in Porthgolow,’ she continued, ‘in the next couple of weeks. I know you’re part of the WhatsApp group, but you didn’t come to my meeting, and I wanted to make sure you were OK with it.’
Reenie stared at her, and Charlie had to look away. She glanced behind the older woman, trying to see inside her house.
‘Eyes front, Charlene. Or are you Charlotte?’
‘Charlene, but everyone calls me Charlie. It seems less—’
‘Whiny? Charlene is the sort of name you can only say with a whine. Charlie it is, then. Charlie, I am not remotely against you having a festival on the beach – goodness knows the village could do with a bit of sprucing up. I have no desire to be part of it, but I do appreciate the opportunity. It has been a pleasure to meet you. Goodbye.’
She moved back, one hand on the door, and Charlie stepped forward. ‘Would you like to come?’
Reenie paused, as if considering it. ‘No, thank you. But it was lovely of you to ask. I wonder if you could do something for me, seeing as you’ve no option but to go back into the village? The council isn’t keen on disposing of my rubbish, so I have to do it myself. Would you be so kind?’ She disappeared inside, but before Charlie could take another peek she was back, hefting a large carrier bag. ‘This is only recycling, nothing soiled. It would save me a trip.’
‘I, uhm …’ Reenie pushed the bag towards her, and Charlie instinctively held her arms out to take it.
‘Thank you, Charlie. Very generous of you.’ She closed the door.
Charlie gazed at it for a moment, then walked back around the side of the house and slowly navigated over the rocks, her job made more difficult by the unwieldy bag she was carrying. She felt too stunned to be put out. She had been imagining a recluse, someone who was timid, afraid of human company. Reenie seemed like nothing of the sort and, despite her brusqueness, Charlie had found herself warming to her. She wanted to get to know her better.
As her feet found the dusty, solid track and Marmite bounded ahead, she tried to conjure up reasons to return to the yellow house.
They reached the main road and Marmite dashed in the direction of the beach. Surprised by the sudden movement, Charlie lost her grip on Reenie’s recycling. The bag tipped out of her hands and she lunged into the road to grab it just as a BMW shot down the hill, going far too fast. She heard the long beeeeeeeeep of its horn, the squeal as the driver slammed on the brakes. She managed to twist her body away from it, and staggered a few steps before righting herself, her heart hammering in her chest. Bits of paper and cardboard drifted in all directions, turni
ng over and over in the breeze, but she was too shocked to chase after them.
Marmite was suddenly at her feet, barking loudly and scrabbling at her shins.
‘What the hell were you doing in the road?’
She hadn’t noticed the car come to a stop, or Daniel climb out of it, but now he was bearing down on her, leaving his driver’s door wide open. His voice was sharp, his usual cool nowhere to be found.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said through shaky breaths, ‘I’m not going to sue you.’
‘You stepped right out in front of me. I could have killed you!’
‘Because you were going too fast,’ she shot back. ‘What if it had been a child? Or Marmite? Maybe I shouldn’t have been there, but there’s no need to drive like that in the village.’
Marmite was excited now, bounding over to Daniel and pawing at his trousers. He didn’t seem to notice.
‘And you need to watch where you’re going,’ he replied. ‘That hill’s pretty steep, in case you hadn’t noticed. Not everyone has brakes as good as mine.’
‘Of course you’ve got the best brakes,’ she snapped. How could he accuse her of being in the wrong?
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He stormed up to her, his jaw set, but when he cupped his hand around her shoulder his touch was gentle. She could feel the warmth of his skin through her thin top. ‘You’re OK, though, aren’t you?’
She saw that it wasn’t anger in his eyes, but shock. Concern, even. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, though his touch had cancelled out the calm that had started to return, and a lump bubbled up in her throat. She put Reenie’s bag on the floor, breaking contact, and pointlessly dusted down her jeans.
Daniel took the bag, picked up what flyaway bits of paper he could and shoved them inside it. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t have been driving that fast. But you need to be more careful.’
Charlie took him in, standing there in a dark suit and white shirt, looking ridiculously handsome and stern, clutching a bag of rubbish. She grinned. ‘We’re both to blame. You were going too fast, but I wasn’t paying attention, and this one,’ she gestured to Marmite, ‘was being an idiot, as always. So I’d say it’s about fifty-fifty. Except you were driving a powerful vehicle with killing potential, so your apology is more valid.’
‘Fair enough. Do you want this back?’ He lifted the bag.
‘Thanks.’ He handed it to her, but her hands were still shaking, and it slipped. Daniel took it back.
‘I’ll bring it over to the bus. Promise me that you’re all right?’
‘I’m fine. Come and have a coffee,’ she added impulsively.
‘I need to get to the hotel.’
‘If you’d actually hit me, you would have been stuck here for ages. Waiting for the ambulance, giving a statement, watching while they scraped me off the tarmac …’
‘OK, OK. One coffee. I’ll meet you there.’
‘The beach is twenty yards away.’
‘I can’t leave my car here, can I? I’ll put it in the car park.’
‘Fair point. I’ll go and open up.’
Daniel sat at one of the downstairs tables facing the kitchen while Charlie turned on the coffee machine, oven and fairy lights. He’d draped his jacket over the seat next to him and rolled his shirtsleeves up, but his hands were clasped tightly together on the table, and there was visible tension in his broad shoulders. Marmite had clearly noticed too, because before Charlie could put him in his crate he had bounced onto the chair and inserted himself on Daniel’s lap, his head popping up between Daniel’s arms. Charlie refilled the coffee-bean holder and watched them surreptitiously. Daniel ruffled the dog’s head with his thumb.
‘What were you doing, anyway?’ he asked. ‘Trying to win the villagers over with a litter-pick?’
‘What – oh, you mean the bag? No, that’s Reenie’s rubbish.’ She laughed. ‘I went to see her and ended up as honorary waste collector.’
‘Reenie’s a hard nut to crack. She must like you if she’s trusted you with her rubbish.’
‘That’s a bit backwards, isn’t it? Rubbish isn’t usually a gift bestowed on someone you’re fond of. Also, how could she like me after two minutes of chat? A chat during which, by the way, she managed to be pretty cutting.’ Charlie wrinkled her nose at the memory.
‘What did she say?’
‘She told me that I shouldn’t start my sentences with so, and that Charlene was a whiny name.’
Daniel laughed. ‘That’s typical Reenie. She’s like a shit fortune-teller, giving you all the truths you don’t want to hear.’
‘Do you know her well? I got the impression she was a bit of an enigma. Jonah says she’s a mermaid who’s lost her tail.’
‘The Kerr boy? That figures.’
Charlie brought their coffees to the table, along with two scones, perfectly topped with jam and cream. She sat opposite him. ‘Listen to you – The Kerr boy. It’s like you’re auditioning for Scrooge. This is for you.’ She pushed the scone towards him.
Daniel sipped his coffee. His expression was lighter, and the amused glint was back in his eyes. Charlie had started to relax, too. Her palms had stopped sweating and she was grateful that he had agreed to join her. Conversely, he was helping take her mind off the fact that he’d almost mown her down.
‘He’s a boy and his parents are Paul and Amanda Kerr. It’s not inaccurate. I just had breakfast.’ He nudged the scone back across the table.
‘It’s impersonal, though. They’re your neighbours. Live a little. It’s one scone, and you didn’t seem that reluctant with my lemon tarts.’ She pushed the plate towards him again.
‘Jonah can be very irritating.’ Daniel picked up one half of the scone and took a bite.
‘Has he given you lots of facts about your hotel?’
‘Yup,’ Daniel mumbled, then finished his mouthful. ‘I got the entire history of the old Clifftop Hotel – which stood where Crystal Waters is now – even though his family moved to Porthgolow after I did. I also know how Jacuzzis are made, and why sea salt is used in high-end beauty treatments. This is delicious, by the way.’
‘I know, that’s why I gave it to you. I’m glad Jonah and his family are on my side. I can imagine he could cause quite a few problems if he set his mind to it.’
‘Why are you thinking about it like that? Everyone taking sides?’
‘Isn’t that how you think about it?’ Charlie bit into her own scone, and followed it with a sip of cappuccino.
‘Not at all,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ve got a business to run in Porthgolow, and it doesn’t bother me whether the locals like it or not. You’re being far too generous giving them your consideration, asking what they think about you running a festival.’
‘You were happy enough to give me your opinion at that meeting!’
‘That’s because you gave me the opportunity. I wasn’t going to pass it up.’
Charlie huffed in frustration. ‘You really think the best way to run your business is to ignore everyone else and be selfish?’
Daniel put his hand over hers on the table. ‘No, of course not. But you had the right idea with this place. You might have listened to what a few people thought about your bus being in the village, but you ignored any negativity and did it anyway.’ He gave her a glimmer of a smile, acknowledging that he had been part of the negativity. ‘You can tell them how it’s going to work and what it’s going to look like until you’re blue in the face, but none of them will change their minds until they see it in action. I’m sure that you’ve convinced a few sceptics since your bus has been open, and the same will be true of your event. Show them how brilliant it is, and Myrtle and Rose and all those other moaners will be forced to eat their words.’
‘Is that what you do, then?’ Charlie asked, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the feel of his skin against hers.
He nodded. ‘Try to, anyway, though it’s not always quite that straightforward. My guests aren’t all millionaire socialites. Peop
le save up for these breaks, they get treated to weekends or overnight stays. They’re not superior. I just always wanted my hotel to go the extra mile. To set high standards.’
‘But to the detriment of the rest of Porthgolow?’
‘What do you mean?’ Daniel frowned. ‘I haven’t done anything to harm anyone in Porthgolow.’
‘What about Juliette? She said that you offered her some work and then it fell through.’
Daniel didn’t reply immediately and she didn’t jump in. Not only because she thought her silence would pressure him into an explanation, but also because when he looked at her like that, from so close, she didn’t want to do anything that might make him stop.
‘The thing with Juliette was a mistake,’ he said, ‘and I’m truly sorry it happened. I had spoken to a friend of Lauren’s, had a look at his work, and while I was exploring other options, Lauren got a contract drawn up. She thought I’d given him the go-ahead and it was confirmed without my say-so.’
‘How? It’s your hotel.’
Daniel sighed. She could feel his thumb moving against her skin, and wondered if he was doing it consciously. ‘Lauren brought in a pile of papers for me to sign. It was late one Friday night, I was knackered and I wanted to go home, so I signed it without reading it properly. When I realized what I’d done, and what I’d promised Juliette, I—’
‘You didn’t want to tell her the truth, because it would show her you’d messed up.’
‘I took my eye off the ball. It won’t happen again.’
‘So why not tell her now? Admit that you’re human. Juliette and Lawrence are great people. If you’re not trying to make enemies, then why not just apologize and explain what happened? She’d forgive you the moment she knew.’
‘What, that I was weak?’
‘That you’re a normal person who makes mistakes. My uncle Hal, who gave me Gertie, always said to me that you should forget the mistake but remember the lesson it taught you.’
Daniel laughed. ‘Is he a life coach?’
‘He ran tours around the Cotswolds on here.’ Charlie tapped the table. ‘He died in February and left me the bus in his will.’
The Cornish Cream Tea Bus Page 12