The Christmas Tea Shop at Rosewood
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Cornish Hearts
Copyright
For my husband and children, with love always.
Chapter 1
‘Fran, did you hear what I just said?’
Fran frowned at her best friend, Holly Dryden.
‘Uh… yes, yes I did. You said that you opened a bottle of wine last night, took a sip and it made you feel queasy.’
The two women stared at each other and Fran felt her jaw drop. Just moments ago, they had been chatting about paintings and Christmas plans and Holly’s forthcoming wedding – all innocuous enough – and now…
This.
Fran had suspected that Holly had something on her mind, as Holly had seemed somewhat distracted, then she had confirmed Fran’s suspicions when she’d blurted out her comment about feeling queasy when she’d taken a sip of wine.
‘Fran, I think I might be pregnant.’ Holly’s bottom lip wobbled and her eyes filled with tears.
‘Oh, Holly, it’s okay, come here.’
Fran wrapped her arms around her friend and held her tight. This was clearly unplanned but it didn’t have to be a bad thing. Holly’s son, Luke, was still very young and he had been a surprise, but he had also brought everyone around him so much joy. Holly had experienced a difficult time when Luke was born, because she’d split up with Luke’s father and left Penhallow Sands before finding out that she was pregnant, but on her return she had been reunited with Rich. Now, their relationship was stronger than ever. They made a delightful family and doted on their baby son, along with Holly’s father and grandmother. Another baby hadn’t been on the agenda so quickly, but if Holly was pregnant, then it wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to them.
Fran gazed around the shop that Holly ran at Greenacres Vineyard, buying some time to let the realisation sink in, and to find the right words to offer Holly the support she needed right now. The shop’s familiarity was comforting, with the counter and till, the shelves stocked with bottles of wine, a selection of Fran’s handiwork including glasses, pottery bowls and goblets lining the shelves and a number of her paintings of local landscapes adorning the wall behind the counter.
‘Look, Holly, you don’t know for certain yet, so there’s no point worrying. It could just be that you weren’t in the mood for wine last night, or that the wine was… I don’t know… a bit off.’
Holly shook her head. ‘Our wine is good.’
‘I know that, silly, but sometimes there’s bound to be a bottle that’s not quite right. It might have turned. Like… did it have that heavy raisin smell?’
Holly nodded. ‘It didn’t smell good, so I guess you could be right.’
Fran pushed Holly’s blonde hair behind her ears. ‘Have you told Rich?’
‘Not yet. I’d prefer to know for certain and I don’t know how he’ll take it if I am.’
‘Holly, that man adores you and would do anything for you. Along with Luke, you are his whole world. Don’t underestimate him. He’ll come through for you.’
‘I know. But with the wedding just over six weeks away, we have so much to do and we were hoping to have a few days away at some point as a honeymoon, but that all depends on how Granny’s feeling, and—’
‘And none of that is a problem. You can still do all those things.’
‘But also…’ Holly sighed. ‘With Granny being under the weather recently, I’ve been so concerned about her. I can see that she’s struggling, yet she’s trying so hard to help with getting things ready for the wedding and I just think that if I am pregnant, then she’ll try to do even more because she’ll be worried about me and… I can’t bear to see her wear herself out. You know how she gets… She’ll feel that she has to look after me but it’s her who needs looking after right now.’
‘Yes, I know Glenda well.’ Fran nodded.
Holly’s maternal grandmother would try to lighten Holly’s load if she suspected that she was pregnant and taking more on wasn’t a good idea right now. Glenda Morton hadn’t fully recovered from a recent bout of flu, and between them, Holly, Rich and Holly’s father, Bruce, were keen to ensure that Glenda got as much rest as possible. The elderly lady was strong willed, and even when the doctor had recommended bed rest, Glenda had been found mopping the kitchen floor and trying to clean the windows.
‘So you understand why I want to keep this quiet for now. At least until I know for certain if I am pregnant and then… if I am… I’d like to keep it secret until after the wedding. Hopefully, by the time January rolls round, Granny will be feeling stronger.’
‘That makes perfect sense.’
Fran glanced out of the window. ‘But Rich is on his way over here right now, so if you’re not ready to tell him yet, wipe your eyes, blow your nose and take a deep breath.’
Holly did as she’d been told.
‘Let’s meet later so we can talk properly, shall we?’ Fran feigned interest in a leaflet on the counter about a Christmas market in Newquay. The jolly Santa on the front had fat rosy cheeks and an impossibly white beard.
‘I can’t today, but how about tomorrow?’
‘Fine. You could come to mine or we could meet up at Rosewood Tea Shop? I have to deliver a few things there anyway, so it’s as good an excuse as any to meet there and enjoy some of Audrey’s finest. We can have cake, coffee and hopefully some peace and quiet.’
‘Cake sounds good.’ Holly smiled.
‘That’s better. Keep smiling because it will all be okay.’
Rich was almost at the shop now.
‘One more thing though…’ Holly leant over the counter and met Fran’s eyes. ‘Could you get me a pregnancy test, as I won’t have a chance to go out and buy one and… I also can’t be seen buying one in the village. You know how people talk.’
With her soft blonde hair, big green eyes and pale face, Holly looked so young and fragile that Fran wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and protect her from the world. She loved her friend and would do anything to help her.
Fran nodded. ‘No problem. I’ve never bought one before, so it’ll be a first.’
‘Never bought what?’ Rich had entered the shop and he smiled as he approached the counter.
‘Oh… um… she’s never bought a… a…’
‘A man-bun visor,’ Fran blurted.
‘A what?’ Rich’s face creased as he started to laugh. ‘A man-bun visor? Why on earth would you want one of those? Although… I’m not sure if I know what one is.’
Holly’s eyes widened and her lips twitched and Fran knew that she had to dig them out of this hole and quickly, otherwise Rich might become suspicious about the nature of their conversation before he had arrived.
‘Because…’ Fran ran a hand over her short hair. ‘My hair’s quite short and sometimes I’d like to have longer hair. And… I saw one of those man-bun visors online and it looked like the perfect solution.’
Rich nod
ded but his eyes had narrowed. ‘Is it actually for Holly’s hen night? Is that what’s going on here? You two are planning something wild, aren’t you?’ He winked at Holly.
‘Yes. Yes we are.’ Holly nodded.
‘I thought so.’ Rich walked around the counter and slid an arm around Holly’s waist then kissed the top of her head. ‘Always up to mischief. You really don’t need to hide anything from me, though. I don’t mind what you want to do as long as you look after each other when you’re out and about.’
‘Yes that’s us.’ Holly held Fran’s gaze with her bright green eyes and Fran could see that Holly hated deceiving Rich, but she also understood Holly’s reasons for wanting to wait before she told him. Besides which, Fran really had seen a man-bun visor online the other day and it had both intrigued her and repulsed her, and now she wanted to go and take another look. It could well be something funny to purchase for Holly’s hen night. But first she had to go and buy a pregnancy test…
* * *
Fran’s heart was pounding and her palms were clammy as she marched away from the small village pharmacy. She felt like she’d just purchased something illegal or illicit and not a couple of plain old pregnancy tests, and that at any moment she’d feel the weight of a police officer’s hand on her shoulder and be dragged in for questioning. But oh… it had not been as straightforward a task as she had imagined. The village of Penhallow Sands had been busy for a Friday afternoon in November, and when she’d entered the pharmacy, it had been filled with coughing pensioners and snotty-nosed toddlers, with people she knew from the village and some of the returning tourists who liked to visit the Cornish location during the quieter winter period. She had felt instantly uneasy, as if everyone knew why she was there, and her scalp had prickled and her stomach churned as if she’d eaten a hot chilli before leaving the house.
Fran had dawdled for a while, reading the instructions on conditioner bottles and toothpaste boxes, trying to absorb the information about colour protection promised by the conditioner and about a brighter whiter smile from the toothpaste. Then she’d shuffled along the aisles, picking up things she didn’t need and dropping them into a basket until she reached the aisle with the desired product. As she ran her eyes over the shelves, she was horrified to find that there was a vast selection of tests available. She had not been prepared for that at all and a wave of panic had swept over her. From the bargain test that looked as though it might be some kind of torture device, to the test that told you how many weeks pregnant you were, to the one that predicted if you were pregnant even before your period was due, there was so much choice. How was the promise made by the latter test even possible? Was it somehow psychic?
It had occurred to Fran then that the pregnancy testing market was clearly lucrative. Fran loved Holly’s son, Luke, and liked holding other friends’ babies, but she hadn’t planned on having children or really felt any desire to procreate at all, so to her this was an enigma. She had never been in a serious relationship, which could be linked to that lack of maternal yearning, but it could just be that she didn’t have the biological desire to reproduce. As she stood staring at the shelves, she had shrugged. Her absence of maternal yearning wasn’t important; what did matter was finding a test for Holly, so she’d grabbed a cheap one and one that could tell how many weeks pregnant a woman was, and dropped them into her basket. She had tucked them under her other purchases, hurried to the counter, then held her breath as the girl at the till had slowly scanned each item before loudly telling her that the one test had a buy-one-get-one-free offer on it so did she want two of the same? Fran had shaken her head furiously and the girl had raised her thickly drawn on brows and opened her mouth to protest at the stupidity of her declining the offer, but clearly thought better of it when Fran glared at her, injecting as much venom into her gaze as she could muster. It didn’t come naturally to Fran, that kind of glare, but desperate circumstances had called for it. The girl had wrinkled her highlighted nose – why did people do that? – then scanned the rest of the items and deposited them into a paper bag before requesting payment.
‘Fran!’ A deep voice rumbled close to her ear now and she froze as if she’d been caught. ‘What’s the hurry?’
She turned on her heel and met the dark brown eyes of Jamal Wilson, the co-owner of the local salon Hairway to Heaven.
‘Hi, Jamal.’ She brought a smile to her lips but it felt more like a grimace. She’d usually be glad to see the handsome and kind hair stylist, but today was not the day for banter.
‘I asked what the hurry was. You were hotfooting it along the pavement like you were being chased by rabid hounds.’
‘Rabid hounds?’ She frowned.
‘Hounds that wanted to bite your bottom.’ He laughed. ‘Sorry… Bradley’s had me watching this new series on Netflix and there were these rabid dogs and…’ He shook his head. ‘You know what, you’d have to watch it to understand.’
‘Okay.’ Fran nodded, the image of dogs chasing her to bite her bottom now emblazoned on her mind. What if they grabbed the paper bag off her and stole the tests? Then she’d have to go back to the pharmacy and experience the whole horrid process again.
‘So why were you rushing? Everything okay?’ He scanned her face, his eyes filled with concern. Fran felt her shoulders relax a fraction at his kindness.
‘Yeah, I’m okay. I was just… lost in my own world.’
‘We all have days like that.’ He pushed his spiky dreadlocks back with his large hands and the diamond studs in his ears sparkled in the winter sunlight. ‘Do you know if Holly still wants me to do her hair for the wedding? She mentioned it a few weeks ago and I’d love to do it. She has fabulous hair.’
‘I’m pretty certain that she does. Tell you what, I’ll text her now and tell her to let you know. If I don’t do it immediately, I’ll forget and it’s not fair to leave you wondering.’
Fran pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and swiped the screen. The bag from the pharmacy was heavy on her arm, the paper handles digging into her skin.
‘Let me take that for you,’ Jamal said, reaching for the bag.
‘Thanks.’ Fran was about to release it when she remembered what was inside. She snatched her hand back just as Jamal’s long fingers gripped the bottom and the bag tore in half like a Christmas cracker. She watched in horror as the contents flew across the pavement, but there was no paper hat and joke along with some plastic trinket inside; instead, there was toothpaste, shampoo, facial oil and… two pregnancy tests.
Jamal’s jaw dropped as he stared at the tests.
Fran stared at Jamal, then at the tests, then slowly raised her eyes to Jamal’s face. Even though the air was clear and cold, her chest tightened and she struggled to suck in a breath. She glanced around them but people were continuing with their day, oblivious to the pregnancy test debacle currently unfolding for Fran.
She finally pulled air into her lungs then dropped to her knees and reached for the tests, stuffing them into her coat pockets. Jamal picked up the other things and handed them to her, so she put them into what remained of the paper bag, folded it over then tucked it under her arm.
‘Jamal… it’s not what it looks like.’
He raised his big hands, pink palms facing her, and cocked an eyebrow, looking more like Idris Elba than ever – just with more hair.
‘None of my business, Fran.’
‘No. You’re right. But… uh… don’t say anything about this to anyone, will you?’
‘My lips are sealed.’ He placed a finger over his mouth. ‘Not a word. This is clearly very big news for you.’ He smiled. ‘And very exciting!’
Fran swallowed her dismay. She really liked Jamal and his husband Bradley, but she knew they enjoyed a bit of juicy gossip and wondered if Jamal would be able to keep this secret to himself, or if it would spill out as he chatted to a client. He wouldn’t do it intentionally, but it was likely that it would slip out at some point. She took a deep breath and tried to steady hersel
f. Whatever he did wasn’t important. She needed to keep Holly’s secret for now, and keep it she would. If the Penhallow Sands rumour mill decided that Fran was pregnant, then so be it.
‘Right, let me send that text.’
She swiped the screen of her phone and typed the message to Holly, aware that Jamal was staring intently at her face and probably wondering who the father was. She could certainly have some fun with that mystery, although she didn’t feel in the mood for playing around right now.
In fact, she needed a caffeine and sugar fix, and quickly.
Chapter 2
Ethan Clarke suppressed a sigh as he manoeuvred his black VW Golf around the country lanes. He’d forgotten how narrow these roads could be, having grown up in Bath and not visited Penhallow Sands since he was fifteen, and that was twenty years ago. He suppressed another sigh at the thought of how quickly those years had flown. He was five years off forty and certainly hadn’t thought his life would turn out as it had. He’d been convinced that he was destined for success and that his future would be happy and healthy, that life would open up to him as he got older. Instead, his marriage had broken down, he’d been a single father for two years and now, to top it all off, he’d lost the job he loved as a chef, in a place where, although it wasn’t high end, his colleagues were warm and friendly and the routine was comfortingly familiar.
But whenever he felt glum, all he had to do was look at his six-year-old daughter, Tilly, and know that nothing else mattered. Tilly was his world and all he cared about was keeping her safe and making sure that she was happy. His own happiness was something he’d put aside two years ago when his marriage ended, or even before that if he counted the years of uncertainty when he was with Melanie Tranter, never knowing if she was going to stay or go, if she loved him or felt that she was stuck with him. He’d been a fool to fall in love with her and he knew why it had happened when it had: he’d been reeling from the loss of his mother and trying to find a salve for his pain. Unfortunately, Melanie hadn’t been the soothing balm he’d hoped for and they’d married for the wrong reasons. But that was in the past, behind him now, and he’d never make the same mistakes again. Tilly was his focus and always would be.
The Christmas Tea Shop at Rosewood Page 1