The Eclair Affair

by Cressida McLaughlin

  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, turning 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.’

&nb
sp; ‘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. People 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.’

  Daniel squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sorry. He obviously cared about you.’

  Charlie nodded. ‘And I cared about him, too. That’s why I have to make a success of this.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve no doubt you’ll do that,’ he said softly. ‘Not even my BMW haring down the hill towards you has dented your smile. Are you sure you’re OK?’ He turned her hand over and ran his fingers slowly down her palm, until his fingertips rested on hers.

  Charlie swallowed. ‘I’m OK. The shock’s faded.’

  ‘I really am sorry, Charlie. If I’d hit you …’ He didn’t finish the sentence.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she mumbled. But it wasn’t fine. She shouldn’t be sitting here with Daniel, letting him twist her thoughts like this, touch her so tenderly when all he’d done up until this point was rile and infuriate her.

  She tried to think back to what it had felt like when Oliver had touched her. Had he touched her during their date? She couldn’t remember. And if he had, then she hadn’t responded in the way she was now, to Daniel’s fingertips pressed against hers.

  ‘I should get going,’ he said, taking his hand away. Charlie’s fingers fizzed, as if mourning their loss. ‘Thank you for the coffee and the scone. Bye, little guy, see you soon.’

  He lifted Marmite onto the seat, stood up and stepped out from behind the table, took a moment to brush the crumbs and Yorkipoo fur off his trousers, and then grinned at her. The effect, with the smart suit and the neat hair, a single wave falling over his forehead – along with the lingering memory of his touch – was almost too much.

  ‘Can I buy a spa voucher?’ she asked impulsively.

  ‘Of course.’ Daniel took a step towards her. ‘You know, I give a pretty good massage. Let me know when you’re booking in and, if I’m not too busy, I’ll look after you personally. To make up for earlier.’

  ‘It’s not for me,’ Charlie said. ‘It’s for Juliette and Lawrence. I want to thank them for letting me stay so long, and I figured that if I told her why you bailed on your marketing agreement, she wouldn’t have a reason to be cross with you any more. Are you happy for me to tell her?’

  ‘Sure.’ He stepped closer. ‘But let me gift it to them, as an apology for what happened. It won’t make up for losing a contract, but you’re right, I should have explained it straight away.’

  ‘Good.’ Charlie smiled. ‘Glad I could help.’

  ‘And if you do fancy coming to Crystal Waters one evening, there’s always a spectacular view of the sunset from the hot tub.’

  She could feel his breath against her cheek. ‘I thought you were going to give me a massage,’ she whispered.

  ‘I could give you a massage in the hot tub. We could have champagne to celebrate your first, successful Porthgolow festival. If it is successful.’

  ‘Of course it’s going to be successful,’ Charlie said, closing down the vision he was creating in her head. The sunset, the hot bubbles around them and the cool bubbles of the champagne, his hands on her skin …

  Daniel grinned. ‘I’ll get Juliette’s voucher to you in the next few days. Catch you later, Charlie.’

  He turned and, as he left the bus, dinged the bell cord.

  Charlie slumped against the counter, her gaze falling on Reenie’s bag of rubbish, still on the bench where Daniel had left it. She had found out why he’d let Juliette down and now she could tell her friend and resolve the animosity between them. He’d been honest with her, and offered up a day at the spa by way of an apology. Charlie should be punching the air with delight at having worked her way under Daniel’s cool exterior. But when she compared it to the way he’d got inside her head, it seemed utterly insignificant.

  She’d been on a date with Oliver and was seeing him again at the festival. They were small, tentative steps towards getting back on her emotional feet after Stuart’s betrayal and losing Hal. Ollie seemed safe and kind and comforting. Exactly what she needed. Daniel had got her attention on her very first night in Porthgolow and since then he’d been toying with her feelings. He was the antithesis of safe: the word ‘tentative’ probably wasn’t even in his vocabulary.

&
nbsp; She glanced at her hand, tried to recreate the feel of his fingers touching hers, the way it had tingled through her whole body, and then, cursing herself, she put her hands in the sink and ran the hot tap until her flesh went pink.

  Chapter Five

  It was the day after the summer solstice, and the sun was making its presence known. Charlie stood in the doorway of The Cornish Cream Tea Bus, the smell of red-onion chutney and sausage rolls competing with the fresh sea air. When she had been planning the first Porthgolow festival, she hadn’t paid much attention to the significance of the date, but as she’d brought her cake tins down from Juliette’s house that morning, she’d heard a couple standing on the edge of the beach, muttering loudly about disrespect and sacred time.

  She was trying her hardest to make friends, and instead she was being accused of stomping all over a significant celebration. If only they would give her a chance they would see that she was adding to the festivities rather than disregarding them.

  And she had to admit that, despite all her worries, her hours of online networking seemed to have paid off. The inaugural Porthgolow food festival didn’t look entirely hopeless. It was bright, colourful and had a buzz to it, and that was before any punters appeared.

  The black and green paintwork of The Marauding Mojito gleamed, as did the Mexican burrito stand, painted in a dizzying array of colours that looked like a carnival all on its own. There was a Japanese food van, the scents of its delicate spices wafting across the sand towards her, a Gourmet Falafels truck that she had encountered at the St Agnes Head Festival. A pastel ice-cream van and Cornish Fudge stall catered for those with a sweet tooth, and along with Oliver’s cocktails and juices, there was an old, corrugated metal Citroën van that had been converted into a coffee stall.

  The festival was opening in half an hour and she was missing Benji’s Burgers and, possibly the most important offering, The Travelling Cornish Pasty Shack. She was hoping to win the villagers round with some local fairings – if everything felt completely alien, she wasn’t sure she stood a chance.