‘I need to discuss it with Cal.’
Lily goes to use our bathroom. I hope she won’t mind it not being luxurious. Rachel lets out a sigh of relief. ‘Is Freya OK? I heard her crying and had to tell Lily about her. Then things went quiet.’
‘She was fine once she was changed.’
‘Are you sure Cal didn’t mind looking after her?’ Rachel asks.
‘He used to work with kids, though I don’t think he changed many nappies. He’s taken her to see Polly. You may never get her back now.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’
‘How’s it going with Lily, do you think? She seems OK about the arrangements?’ I ask.
‘She seems happy to leave it all to us. She said that Addison and Jade can be “very forceful” but it’s her and Ben’s decision to hold the wedding here. Oh, hello, Lily.’
Lily walks in. Her face is even paler than before.
‘Are you OK?’ I ask her.
Lily waggles a hand. ‘I feel a bit icky to be honest.’
‘Can I get you a glass of water?’
‘Yes, please … that might be a good idea.’
Harry is over to our table like a shot, crouching by her side. ‘Do you want me to call a doctor?’ he says, looking into her face the way Mitch does when I have homemade dog treats in my pocket.
Lily smiles and pats his hand. ‘I’m OK. Really.’
‘You can’t be too careful. Is it something you ate? A bug?’
Oh no, I think, while I fill a glass from a fresh bottle of Cornish spring water, please don’t say Lily’s got food poisoning from Demelza’s even though she’s only had a nibble of a Cornish Yarg canapé and that was barely half an hour ago.
‘Harry. I’m fine. Stop fussing. I’ve had a few late nights and there’s possibly a bug going about. There always is.’
‘Shall I take you home, then?’ he asks.
I hand Lily a glass of water and the rest of the bottle. And she mouths a thank-you.
‘I think we’ve covered everything. I can email everything else and we can Skype you to save time.’ Rachel smiles at her. ‘Harry’s right. You should go home and rest. Everything’s being taken care of here.’
‘OK. It might do me good. Harry’s going to drive me back tonight and Louie misses me so much. Ben will be back later too. It’s not often we have time together in our cottage like a normal couple.’
‘Will Louie be attending the ceremony?’ I ask her while Harry holds up her coat.
‘Oh of course!’ She brightens up. ‘I’ve found him the cutest little tux to wear.’
‘I thought he might like to have his own cushion in the front row of the log pews,’ I say.
Lily smiles. With her huge furry coat, she looks tinier than ever but I do really like her. I wish she’d found someone nicer than Ben to marry but we can’t always help who we fall in love with, I suppose.
‘That sounds perfect,’ she says, kissing me and Rachel goodbye. ‘Thanks so much for organising this. I’m totally confident it’s going to be a-mazing, even if Addison and Jade think it will all be a disaster.’
Rachel and I share glances and I know we’re both thinking the same thing at the same time: well, thanks for sharing that confidence-booster, Lily.
She walks outside and stops by the car.
‘Oh, there’s something else I ought to tell you,’ she says. ‘Though I’m pretty cross with Ben for doing this without asking me. I mean, I shouldn’t mind really and I do have two of my own friends and Ben doesn’t have any sisters or female cousins … and Ben says she is practically family but…’
I brace myself for what news is coming next as Lily sighs.
‘He’s asked Mawgan to be a bridesmaid – and she’s agreed.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Five weeks later – late May
‘Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.’
I turn away from the rose bush outside the back door of Kilhallon House to find Polly smiling at me. This is a very good sign because she’s not done much smiling since she heard about Mawgan being a bridesmaid after Lily’s visit last month. It took quite a while to pick Polly off the ceiling when she found out and to convince Cal that I wasn’t winding him up. I should have known that Mawgan would find some way of putting herself at the centre of the wedding and the lives of Ben and Lily … but over the past month, with time racing by, Mawgan has been the least of our worries.
‘Is that a line from the Bible?’ I ask.
Polly rolls her eyes. ‘Course it isn’t. It’s a poem. Can’t remember the bloke’s name. Something about time flying and taking your chances while you can.’
I let go of the rose. ‘Right.’
Polly joins me and lifts the soft bud of the rose. ‘Cal’s mother loved that rose bush. I’m glad it’s still thriving.’
‘It smells beautiful.’
‘Yes …’
Polly drops the rose head. ‘Well, I can’t stand here sniffing flowers. I’ve work to do. You know that guest who wears the sequinned skirt and those ridiculous hairy boot things? The one whose husband looks like him – I flat refuse to say his name out loud.’ Polly shudders.
‘Um. I think so …’ The image of our guest in her Uggs and her Donald Trump lookalike partner makes me want to giggle.
Polly huffs in disgust. ‘Well. Right pair, they are. They’re complaining they can’t get all the Freeview channels in Poldark Cottage and they asked me why they can’t have another TV in the bedroom, like they’re used to in their “main home”. I mean, I ask you, who comes all this way to the seaside to watch the bloody telly? And what do they want to watch it in bed for?’
With another huge huff and without waiting for an answer, Polly bustles off, and I reluctantly turn away from the rose and hurry back down the yard towards the cafe. I’d only come up to the farmhouse to change my polo shirt after a toddler decided to use it as target practice for his ice cream. Polly caught me during the only five minutes I’ve had to myself since I rolled out of bed this morning. It’s been non-stop for us since Easter. May has flown by and the weather has been largely kind, luring out the early campers to our new site. Thankfully, bookings have recovered for our yurts and cottages, which are now almost full until September, so Cal’s hard work in the resort is paying off. With Nina promoted to deputy manager and some more seasonal staff to lend a hand in the cafe and resort, we’re just about coping with the extra workload.
The air is filled with birdsong, the scent of cut grass and the hum of Cal’s mower. Our visitors have shed their fleeces and boots and wander around the site in shorts and T-shirts. The new ice-cream freezer at the cafe does a roaring trade for humans and canine guests. Cal is always tanned and sometimes smiling, and Polly loves queening it over the seasonal staff and has grown into her job on reception without scaring off too many guests.
We’ve all been working our socks off to give our guests a wonderful holiday and by and large, our reviews are good and our reputation as a boutique holiday resort is slowly but surely building.
Rachel has clocked up many hours in between nappy changing and feeding and fortunately Freya has settled into a good sleep routine and she’s been able to keep on top of the wedding plans. So we’re all ready for the suppliers to roll in on Thursday.
After another busy day at the cafe, I flop down on the sofa at Kilhallon House with a huge sigh. My feet are killing me and I need ten minutes before I take Mitch out for his evening walk. I close my eyes and try to ignore the cold, wet nose poking my side.
‘Demi? Demi?’
‘Ow. Mitch, can you please get your nose out of there?’
‘Now, that’s an offer I can’t refuse.’
Cal comes into focus, standing over me, holding a huge padded brown envelope. He’s in shorts and a T-shirt, a grin on his sunburned face.
I push myself up the sofa and Mitch yips hopefully. Cal holds out the package.
‘A courier delivered this to reception while you were asleep.’
‘Me asleep? I was only resting my eyes.’ I blink. ‘Are you sure it’s for me? I’m not expecting anything.’
‘Well, it’s addressed to you and Polly had to sign for it.’
Cal hands over the envelope.
I tear at the sealed edge. ‘I’ve no idea who it’s from – oh, wait. Oh. Oh my God.’
‘What?’
‘Look. I can’t believe it.’ Carefully I slide the sheets of paper out of the huge padded envelope. ‘These are the page proofs for my cookbook. You can see all the text and pictures just as they’ll appear in the finished book. It’s real now. Isn’t it amazing?’
‘They look fantastic. You should be proud.’
‘I feel I haven’t done anything. The home economist and publisher commissioned a photographer. I only provided the recipes and jotted some ideas for the editorial. Lily wrote a foreword – look at this photo of her with Louie, and here’s Eva with Betty. Betty looks so cute and … oh, it’s me. Me with Mitch.’ I hold out the pages. ‘Cal, I can’t believe it.’
Cal glances at the pages and smiles. ‘Believe it. This deserves champagne.’
‘It’s a work night.’
‘Go on. You earned it.’
While I leaf through the page proofs, still unable to believe what I’m seeing, Cal disappears into the kitchen and returns with a bottle and glasses. He hands me a glass and squeezes next to me on the sofa.
‘I’m not one for a lot of words, or rather I’m not one for the right words, but I am so very proud of you.’ He clinks glasses with me and my eyes fill up, but I don’t want to drip champagne onto the page proofs so I pull myself together.
‘Woof!’
‘See. Even Mitch is impressed,’ Cal says.
‘No. He wants his walk.’
Mitch lays his jowls on the page, leaving a big slobbery jaw print right on top of a photo of Betty the pug.
‘Oh, Mitch!’
Cal puts down his glass. ‘I’ll take him out. You enjoy your book.’
‘We’ll both take him,’ I say, reluctantly setting the proofs aside. ‘But I might sleep with those pages tonight.’
‘As long as that’s the only thing that comes between us, I can live with that.’
We grab Mitch’s lead from the porch. ‘Things seem to be going so well for us, don’t they? After all our problems last year and at Christmas, business is great and I’m even beginning to think we really can pull off this wedding.’
Cal smiles. ‘It certainly seems that way. Come on, let’s get out. Then I think we should take the rest of the champagne to bed after dinner and have an early night.’
When we get back to the house, I indulge myself with another look at the pages while Cal heats up the remains of last night’s coq au vin for our dinner, with garlicky potatoes too, judging by the smell drifting in from the kitchen. By now I know the words off by heart and the champagne is working its magic on me. There are manic days ahead but this has to be one of the most satisfying moments I’ve ever had in my life. I can’t stop smiling. I think about helping Cal but allow myself one more minute to read the pages again. Maybe I really will sleep with them by the bed in case I wake up in the night and want to stroke them.
Sometime later, I glance up and sniff the air. The smell has changed. Not garlic but burning. Seconds later the smoke alarm starts screeching and Mitch barks.
‘Cal!’ I’m off the sofa like a jackrabbit and dashing into the kitchen. A grey haze fills the kitchen and the alarm is beeping like crazy. Mitch goes wild, barking and dashing to the kitchen door. Coughing, I grab the oven mitts and rescue the blackened remains of the spuds and casserole from the Aga.
I throw open the back door and run outside, eyes streaming.
Cal stands in the middle of the yard, with his back to me, his phone clamped to his ear.
‘Cal!’
At my shout, he turns and looks at me, his mouth opens in horror when he sees the smoke coming from the door. He mutters into the phone and then runs towards me.
‘Oh Jesus, I forgot about the dinner! Do we need the fire brigade?’
‘No. I was just in time. The dinner is ruined and the smoke alarm is screeching but no fire.’
He closes his eyes and groans. ‘I’m sorry. Christ.’
I wipe my eyes with a tissue. ‘What happened? Who was that on the phone? They’re not cancelling the wedding, are they?’
‘No. No. It was Kit … he called about Esme. He thinks there’s a very good chance she’s been found.’
After we’ve opened all the windows and doors of the farmhouse to let out the smoke, Cal takes me into the sitting room. He paces around the room. His face is pale under the tan.
‘I can’t believe it. I want to believe she’s OK but I daren’t let myself. And I don’t quite understand why Kit was calling me?’
‘I asked him to search for her. I thought it was a long shot but that he might still have some contacts who might be able to help. I didn’t say anything to you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up and I never thought it would come to anything. I hope that’s OK. What did he say?’
‘I’m glad you asked him. I’m not angry but I’m … I don’t know what to feel or think. I almost wish he hadn’t called in case it’s not true. But his contact is ninety-nine per cent certain it’s her. It must be. He’s forwarding a photo. Any time now’— he stares at his phone —‘I’ll know for sure.’
I grab his arm. ‘Cal. I can’t believe it. I thought I was interfering.’
He looks at me. ‘Thank you. Thank you for interfering.’
His phone pings. He glances at the screen and swallows hard. ‘That’s an email from Kit with a file.’
‘Open it.’
He looks at me, agonised. ‘What if it isn’t her?’
‘You’ll only know if you look.’
‘Yes …’ he says, holding the phone down by his side. ‘But I have to do this on my own. Do you understand?’
I let him go and stand aside. ‘Do what you have to but remember I’m here whatever happens.’
He nods and walks silently out of the room. His footsteps echo on the boards and there’s a creak as his study door opens and a soft click as it shuts. I lie back on the sofa and as if he senses the tension, Mitch jumps on top of me. I hug him, burying my face in his fur. All I can do is wait for Cal to come back and hope that it’s good news.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It’s been twenty minutes since Cal closed the door to his study and there hasn’t been a word from him or even a sound from his study. I can’t stand the tension any more and as I’m about to barge in on him, Cal walks into the sitting room.
My heart almost leaps out of my chest and I spring up from the sofa. He holds his tablet down by his side. His face is pale. ‘It’s her,’ he says.
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’ve seen the photo. She’s grown, she’s thinner, but it’s her. There’s a photo of her grandfather on the email too, with her.’
‘Cal. That’s amazing. It’s fantastic news.’ I launch myself on him and finally he hugs me back. I kiss him and he holds me tightly and finally there’s a smile on his face. ‘I was so worried when you didn’t come out of the study. I thought it wasn’t her or you’d heard bad news.’
‘She’s safe. She’s alive … I’m sorry I didn’t come in to tell you. I wasn’t sure how I’d react, whether it was good news or bad, and then I kept having to check the photo against an old one of mine. I knew immediately but I couldn’t accept it after all this time searching. Then I called Kit and Carolyn.’
‘How did Kit find her? Did she turn up on the Red Cross or Facebook sites?’
‘No. Kit made enquiries among his colleagues who cover human-interest stories in the Middle East. One of the journalists had been doing some features on families escaping Syria and moving into Europe. She did some digging and spread the word about Esme’s family: names, ages, etc.’ Cal drags his fingers through his hair, still looking totally shell-shocked.
‘So she’s with her family? That’s a hundred times better than her being alone.’
‘If she’d been alone, I doubt she could have survived.’ He hugs himself as if he’s cold. ‘Kit’s journalist friend actually spoke to Esme and her family and they remembered me. My God, Esme remembered me.’
‘Why wouldn’t she? You were good friends.’
‘I – I don’t know … You know Kit didn’t want to pass on the news until he was absolutely sure but this evening his colleague emailed the photo to him. He wondered all day what to do but then said he realised he had to risk disappointing me.’
He holds out the tablet. ‘Would you like to see her? I’ve got some old photos of her and Soraya of my own. I wanted to compare them with this new picture, to make sure because I don’t trust my memory any more. I haven’t been able to look at these or show them to anyone until now. Demi … you need to understand that I’ve been trying to forget it all and put the past behind me.’
‘I know that. I even understand the way you feel. When I left home, I thought I could run away from my family and the past, but it was impossible. I tried to lock the bad memories away and live on my own with Mitch as if they didn’t exist but it didn’t help me. Maybe the breathing space helped me for a little while but the guilt and the grief didn’t go away. In the end, my family and the memories found me. I’m glad they did and I’m glad you found Esme.’
We sit next to each other on the sofa. Cal lifts the cover of the iPad and taps on the photo in the email. A little girl stares back at me through wide, dark eyes. My heart jumps into my mouth. You don’t have to know Esme’s story to see what she’s been through. Her lost gaze says everything, despite her smile.
‘She’s so young.’
‘She’s nine now. She’s grown so much, but she’s thinner.’
Confetti at the Cornish Café Page 18