The Corner Shop in Cockleberry Bay_A heartwarming laugh out loud romantic comedy

by Nicola May

  ‘Exactly! I have to trial and error these things though, Josh. I’m so excited now!’

  Josh smiled at Rosa’s enthusiasm. ‘Next time I come down, the Corner Shop will be like a mini hyper-market.’

  ‘Let’s hope so, eh. Oh my God!’

  ‘What?’

  Rosa scurried off, then reappeared a moment later, carrying something.

  ‘Here, look. I forgot all about it. The mention of extra cash reminded me.’

  Josh unwrapped the toilet paper from around the object she had handed him.

  ‘Wow, Rosa, that’s beautiful. And with the size of that sapphire, I should imagine it’s worth quite a bit too.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. Look at the engraving.’

  ‘Aw, that’s so sweet.’

  ‘I found it down the back of the sofa.’

  ‘I told you,’ Josh said triumphantly. ‘You just never know what you might find.’

  ‘I see nothing wrong in selling it, do you?’ Rosa asked. ‘Finders, keepers and all that. It will be just the kick-start I need.’

  ‘Don’t do anything rash though, Rosa. I’d get it valued properly first.’

  ‘Yeah, I will.’ She wrapped it back up in the toilet roll, then cried: ‘Oh, I don’t want you to go yet!’

  ‘OK. I’ll do you a deal. How about we take Hot for a walk and then have lunch in the Lobster Pot. You need to check it out in there and it will be easier if I’m with you.’

  ‘Cool. Let me go and get ready.’

  The Lobster Pot was quiet with the calm before the New Year’s Eve storm. A poster inside announced that there was to be a fancy-dress party that night: two free glasses of fizz and a buffet, with £10 as the entry ticket price.

  ‘That would be at least fifty quid in London,’ Josh noted between mouthfuls of his fish and chips.

  ‘I know. It’s so much cheaper down here. This food is bloody lovely too. Do you reckon they own this place then?’ Rosa pointed to the couple of men behind the bar with her fork.

  ‘Maybe. They were both really friendly, weren’t they, and their voices didn’t sound as if they’re from these parts.’

  The interior of the Lobster Pot was more gastro-pub than Devon local. Beautifully handwritten blackboards announced the local fayre and there was a big display of fresh flowers on the end of the bar.

  They finished their lunch and Josh drained his pint of lager.

  ‘Right. I’d better go, Rosalar. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me, so no more booze for me.’

  But Rosa, feeling a bit tipsy from a large glass of Merlot, wasn’t ready for the party to finish. ‘Go on, Josh, just one for the road,’ she wheedled.

  ‘If I have one more, I shall have to stay.’

  Rosa stuck her bottom lip out and faux-fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘Pretty please.’

  He immediately gave in. ‘Oh, go on then . . .’

  By five o’ clock, Rosa and Josh were not only a bottle of wine and three pints down respectively, they had sat at the bar and learned that the managers of the Lobster Pot were Jacob and Raffaele, a married couple who had sold up in London to make a life down in the south-west.

  The two men had been able to afford a beautiful cliff-top home in Polhampton Sands, where they spent their time off. Jacob, who had a camp taste in humour, ran the bar, while husband Raffaele was the chef. Jacob’s sister Alyson worked behind the bar; she ran the place when they took time out. Her boyfriend Brad helped Raffaele in the kitchen.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you lovely people to leave now,’ Jacob said. He was cleaning down the bar. ‘We need to get everything ready for later, plus I’ve got to put my glad rags on.’ He dramatically pushed back his brown fringe. ‘One has to be the Belle of the Balls obviously.’

  Rosa loved him already. ‘Who are you coming as?’

  He spun around. ‘Looking at this arse, I know you’re probably thinking Kylie in her gold hot pants. But me and my hubby have decided on Betty Turpin and Bet Lynch. The best hotpot-maker and landlady in history.’

  Rosa looked perplexed and Josh laughed out loud as Jacob explained, ‘From Coronation Street, darling, characters before your time probably. Right, off you go. Happy New Year, unless of course you are coming back later. And goodbye, little one.’ He waved down at Hot, who had been remarkably quiet, sleeping under Rosa’s barstool.

  As they were putting on their coats, a young good-looking guy appeared in chef’s whites. He must have been twenty years Jacob’s junior. Jacob introduced them.

  ‘Meet Rosa, a newbie in the village - owns the Corner Shop no less - and this is Josh, her friend.’ He lingered on the last word.

  Raffaele shook their hands. ‘Hi, pleased to meet you both, but I’ve got to dash - sorry. I’ve run out of gherkins.’

  ‘Not like you to fall short of a gherkin, dear,’ Jacob called after him as he opened the door for Josh and Rosa. ‘Time to go, people. Happy New Year.’

  ‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Rosa.’

  ‘Look, I’ll have to face them sometime.’

  ‘But you’re drunk,’ Josh said nervously, ‘and you know how you get when you’re drunk.’

  ‘I’ve stopped you going home to your rugby club New Year’s Eve bash, so there’s no way we can consider just sitting in the flat with not even a TV to watch Jools Holland’s Hootenanny on.’

  ‘Well, we could go back to the Lobster Pot - I think it would be a laugh there. We’d get to see the guys in drag.’

  Josh half-wished he had left when he wanted to earlier, but Rosa always had a way of cleverly manipulating him. They had got back from lunch, fed Hot and then downed two JD and Cokes - and now here they were, marching down the front to the Ship.

  The live music was already blaring when they arrived, and the bar was packed with old and young alike.

  Seb was propping up the bar and he smiled lasciviously when he saw her. ‘Ravishing Rosa. I’ve missed you.’

  She felt slightly sick. ‘Hi Seb, this is my friend Josh. Josh, this is the guy who kindly gave me a lift from the station.’

  ‘Ah. I understand now.’ Seb nodded and winked. Rosa cringed inwardly.

  ‘Understand what?’ Josh mouthed, moving them away.

  ‘The reason I turned him down the other night.’

  ‘Oh. You hate beards - is that why?’

  ‘No, I hate dickheads, that’s why.’

  ‘Singles now, I reckon, Rosa.’

  ‘Josh, don’t be bloody ridiculous, it’s New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘Mustang Sally . . . Ride, Rosa, ride.’ Lucas appeared and began to sing loudly into Rosa’s ear. Just then, the band decided to stop - leaving Rosa to shout her drunk reply for all to hear.

  ‘Well, oh well. Here he is, the man whose mouth is obviously bigger than his dick.’

  People around sniggered. Sheila walked down to the end of the bar and addressed her.

  ‘Don’t be like that, Rosa. It’s just our way down here - when a stranger arrives.’

  Josh took her arm. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’

  ‘No, Josh, I have something to say.’

  At that moment, a girl appeared by her side, hobbling on crutches. She must have been around Rosa’s age, immaculately dressed with a perfect shiny brown bob, a tiny pointed nose and a thin top lip. Rosa didn’t trust people with a thin top lip.

  ‘Hi, I’m Jas, Lucas’s other half. So, you’re the reason he was late picking me up the other night. He told me how full-on you were when he did your plumbing. Pleased with yourself, are you?’ She pointed to her plastered leg with one of her crutches.

  Lucas was already hot-footing his way to the gents.

  ‘Full-on? Full-on! How dare you? He didn’t even mention he had a girlfriend and I

  wonder if he told you that his mother had sent him round just to find out exactly what I was up to with my new shop. I hope you realise what sort of family you are getting your
self into.’ Rosa was just about to kick one of Jas’s crutches away, when Josh lifted her under one arm and negotiated his way out of the pub with her.

  He gently put her down by the rocks at the start of the beach. ‘That went well then.’

  ‘Why do you always have to be my knight in bloody shining armour, Josh. I can sort things on my own. I don’t need you.’ She screamed and stamped her foot like a child.

  Josh remained calm. ‘But sometimes you just need to turn the dial down. It wasn’t the right time to take that lot on. You could have sorted it out another day - when you were sober.’

  ‘Sober, shober. I didn’t try it on with her bloody boyfriend. I flirted a bit but that was all - and who are you to tell me to turn the dial down? You sound like another bloody social worker.’

  ‘Maybe she’s just testing you. A bloke wouldn’t tell his girlfriend that another girl was full-on - too much information. To be fair though, if he was late because he was with you and the poor cow got run over, well . . .’

  ‘Well - what? He didn’t mention he was late. In fact, he didn’t mention her at all. Anyway, shut up, Josh. Mr bloody Sensible. I wish I’d come here on my own now.’

  Josh bit his lip. He knew that when Rosa was like this, there was no reasoning with her.

  ‘Are you coming back to the shop with me?’ he asked.

  Rosa’s back was now to him as she looked out to sea.

  ‘No, I’m not. It’s only eleven ‘o’ clock on New Year’s Eve. Boring bastard.’

  Josh walked slowly up to the flat, giving her the chance to follow if she wanted, but there was no stopping her when she was in this sort of mood. He was worried about what she might do, but there was only so much he could take - and short of carrying her the whole way home, what else could he do? She was an adult. But a troubled, misguided adult, and when drunk all her childhood insecurities rose to the top and sprayed out like an out-of-control firework.

  He went in, let Hot out for a pee and sat on the roof terrace. The sound of the music carried in the still air and he could hear all sorts of singing and shouting. He was tempted to go up to the Lobster Pot and see the New Year in there, but then thought better of it. He called Rosa’s phone; its familiar ringtone rang out from where she’d forgotten it in the lounge.

  At ten to midnight, Josh couldn’t bear to think what sort of trouble she was getting herself into and headed back down to the beach. Rosa was no longer on the rock, sitting where he’d left her. He pushed the pub door open and the next thing he knew, he was being forced back outside with Titch’s lips pressed full on to his.

  ‘Nooo!’ At that very moment, Rosa rushed past them both. ‘Not her!’

  Josh broke free from the man-eater’s grasp and started running after Rosa.

  ‘It wasn’t what you thought!’ he called out breathlessly.

  ‘It never bloody is with men, is it, Josh?’

  ‘And why do you care anyway? You talked to me like a piece of shit earlier.’

  Rosa continued to march ahead up the hill. She turned and said nastily, ‘Don’t think I care, Josh. It’s just I can’t bear them having something else to talk about.’

  ‘She just grabbed me, Rosa, I swear.’

  ‘Like I said, I don’t care.’

  Josh caught up with her and swung her around.

  ‘Maybe this will make you.’ He held her tightly, so she had no chance to push him away, and kissed her passionately on the lips. He could feel her body melt into his, but the might of her mind enabled her to yank herself free.

  Her voice was cracking. ‘Like I said, Josh, I really don’t care.’

  CHAPTER 14

  Rosa was sitting looking out to sea on the roof terrace when Josh woke from his broken slumber. Hot was on her lap, his little pointed head poking out of the top of the duvet she had wrapped tightly around herself.

  Josh pulled a chair round so he was sitting directly in front of her, found her hands and took them in his. She turned her head away so as not to look at him.

  ‘I thought you would come and find me on my rock last night,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, Rosa. I did.’

  ‘You left me down there.’

  ‘You said some terrible things to me.’

  Rosa bit her lip. Seagulls were swooping and crying overhead.

  ‘I wish I could be a seagull, free from all this shit.’ Tears ran down her face.

  ‘It’s fine. You weren’t that bad - and I very much doubt if anyone will even remember seeing you. Even the landlady seemed three sheets to the wind.’

  ‘I hate it here.’

  ‘No, you don’t, you’re just hating yourself right now. Everything will be all right, I promise you. Look, come in out of the cold and I’ll make us some coffee.’

  Hot scrabbled free as Rosa waddled in with the duvet still around her.

  ‘You look like a penguin,’ Josh teased, and Rosa managed a tiny smile. ‘Ah, there she is - my old Rosalar.’

  ‘I’m not your Rosalar.’

  ‘Well, yes, that’s obvious. I’m – what was it? - a boring bastard.’

  Rosa put her hand to her head. ‘I’m sorry. So sorry.’

  Josh wrapped his big arms around her and the duvet. She rested her head on his shoulder.

  ‘Drinking’s not good for me when I’m angry, is it?’

  ‘No, Rosa, but we’ve been here before and I’m sure we will be again. Maybe next time, head up the hill rather than down? At least Jacob at the Lobster Pot will make you laugh.’

  ‘I ruined your New Year’s Eve, didn’t I?’

  ‘Well, it will certainly be one to remember.’

  ‘Please tell me you didn’t make a move on Titch. When I saw you kissing her –

  well . . .’

  ‘Well - what?’

  ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘I promise you, I had no say in what happened. I pushed the door open to come in and find you, and she literally launched herself at my face like some praying mantis. You’re right, she’s an odd one. And where were you? I imagined finding you waving that crutch in the injured girl’s spiteful face.’

  ‘What kind of bitch was she too?’ Rosa put on a voice. ‘“The reason I’m like this is because you were trying it on with my boyfriend.” Stupid cow.’

  Josh got up and went to make coffee. When he sat down again, Rosa threw the duvet off her and sat up straight, saying, ‘Josh, will you hand me the Gazette for a minute, please.’ They had found a stray copy on the table in the Lobster Pot as they left yesterday; in her drunken state, Rosa had just thrown it down on the lounge floor. The headline read:

  HIT AND RUN IN COCKLEBERRY BAY

  Jasmine Simmonds, of 9 Chichester Terrace, London W9, was hit by a moving vehicle at around 5.30 p.m. on 23 December near the junction of Main Street and the Ulchester Road. The vehicle drove off and police are continuing with their inquiries.

  ‘Oh my God, Luke or Lucas rather, left here at around that time. Do you think it was he himself who knocked her down - and of so, why would he not stop and help his own girlfriend when she was lying there in the road?’ Rosa let out a long, shocked breath. Instinct told her she’d hit upon the truth.

  ‘Didn’t you say you had drunk a bottle of Prosecco?’ Josh remembered.

  ‘Yes, but only one between us.’

  ‘He’d still have been over the limit, Rosa - and maybe he didn’t realise it was her. You know how dark it is around here.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter who it was, it’s still terrible. Fancy leaving someone lying there, hurt, and likely to get run over.’

  ‘Yes, it is terrible, and I’m actually surprised the police haven’t been here to question you, since you would be his chief alibi.’

  ‘But why would they do that? Surely her own boyfriend would be the least likely person they’d suspect.’

  ‘I guess so, but I still think you should voice your concerns.’

  ‘To the po
lice, you mean? No way. I reckon Sheila would have me run out of town like a lone cowboy if I messed with her precious son’s life.’

  ‘But it would be the right thing to do,’ Josh persisted. ‘I mean, what do you owe him? Nothing. He lied to you from the start.’

  ‘No. He’s got his own guilt to deal with, and Jazzy Pants didn’t die, did she? And let’s be honest here - no good would come out of it for me. He’ll be back in London before we know it and with any luck I will never have to come face to face with him again.’

  ‘OK, but promise me you will keep away from him.’

  ‘I promise.’

  CHAPTER 15

  The flat was far too empty and quiet without Josh. Rose had held Hot’s paw up and waved him off that morning, and since then had drifted in and out of sleep on her new sofa. Her head was banging. She yawned and looked around her blearily. She had decided to keep the old sofa too. She would give it a proper scrub with some upholstery cleaner and get some coloured throws and cushions for it. But they were luxury items now, until she sold the necklace and got some decent cash behind her at least.

  Hungry, she opened the fridge, but not in the mood for cooking, shut it again. There was half a cold pizza on the side that Josh had cooked when he got in last night. She must have crashed out straight away as she had no recollection of anything – well, anything after the kiss, that is.

  She was so pleased that he hadn’t mentioned it. She and Josh didn’t kiss. She had enjoyed having the occasional bit of action with him, yes, but that didn’t constitute a relationship. In her eyes, a kiss did - and anyway, she didn’t want a relationship with Josh. He was her friend - her brother, almost. And he was too staid for her.

  She poured herself a glass of milk and took the pizza back through to the lounge, letting a whining Hot out onto the roof terrace as she did so. She sat and stared at the wall, now wishing she had got herself a TV. She felt hungover, she felt empty. Walking back into the kitchen, she spotted the half-full bottle of JD on the side. It was New Year’s Day - what else was there to do - and at least it would make her sleep and forget about the awful night before.