Confetti at the Cornish Café

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Confetti at the Cornish Café Page 19

by Phillipa Ashley


  ‘She’s smiling.’

  Cal smiles briefly too. ‘I guess she was relieved to have something to smile about but Kit’s colleague says she’s attending the camp school a few mornings a week. She loved school until everything fell apart out there. I remember her showing me a picture she’d drawn of her with her mum and grandparents.’

  ‘What made you become close with that family in particular?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe it was Soraya’s bravery that stood out for me, or Esme’s. Soraya could have left the city months before when her hospital was destroyed but she wanted to stay and help her people. We were very grateful for an extra pair of skilled hands. You know, Esme told me she wanted to be a nurse like her mother? Even after witnessing the horrors that she did, she still wanted to be like her mum.’ Cal stares at the photo, silent for a few moments, as if he’s been transported back to the war zone.

  I slip my arm around him and lay my head on his shoulder as the tablet wavers between his hands. He runs his finger over Esme’s face.

  ‘And now she’s asked to see me. Her family are being moved on to another camp in a couple of days, though no one’s told them which yet.’

  ‘So soon?’

  ‘Yes. I can’t go, of course. I haven’t told Kit’s colleague yet but I can’t take off out there, not with the wedding.’

  I don’t know what to say. The thought of losing Cal now, at one of Kilhallon’s biggest moments, makes me go cold. Yet the thought of keeping him away from someone and something that means so much to him is unthinkable. I can’t do it to him, or Esme, no matter how much I want and need him.

  ‘Cal. You have to go while you know where they are. You might lose touch again if you wait.’

  Immediately he shakes his head. ‘No,’ he says firmly. ‘I can’t leave you, not with this wedding to orchestrate.’

  ‘There will be lots of weddings, but this could be your only chance to meet Esme. You’ve waited so long and she’s asked for you after all this time and searching. How can you let her down now?’

  He rubs his hand over his face. ‘A dozen reasons. You need me, the business needs me …’

  ‘That’s only two reasons.’

  He puts his head in his hands and then lifts it. ‘What if she hates me for her mother’s death? What if her family blame me?’

  ‘They wouldn’t have asked for you if they did. You have to face them and talk to them. You’ll never be happy at Kilhallon unless you do. We’ll manage here somehow. Can you get a flight tomorrow?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I guess so. Hell, I don’t know. I haven’t even thought of how to get out there.’

  ‘I’ll get on the airline sites now while you set up the meeting with Kit’s friend and Esme’s family.’

  ‘If you’re sure … but I’ll be back in time for the wedding. I’ll fly out first thing tomorrow and I’ll be back on Saturday.’

  ‘I’ll do my best to find a flight. Cal, you realise that you’re going to have to tell Polly and Robyn where you’re going and why? You don’t have to share all the details but they’re going to want to know why you’ve left Kilhallon before the wedding.’

  He groans. ‘Shit. I never thought of that.’

  ‘You’ll have to trust them with some of the story because I’m not lying for you. It’s too big a secret.’

  ‘You’re right. OK, I’ll speak to Polly and I need a lift off Robyn tomorrow so I’ll talk to her on the way to the station. You’ll be too busy here, Demi. Thank you for this. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘You don’t need to say anything. Just go.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Wednesday – early morning

  Three days before the wedding

  At six a.m. the next morning, Cal wolfs down a bacon butty while scrolling through his phone.

  I cradle my mug. ‘OK. You’re checked in on the three p.m. flight from Bristol to Athens and the last one home on Friday night. You can get the very early train here on Saturday morning but it only gives you a couple of days in Greece. Is it long enough?’

  ‘It will have to be. I’m hiring a car at the airport to drive north to the camp.’ Cal gulps down the dregs of his coffee. ‘You won’t be on your own here. Kit’s driving down to help tomorrow. He’s finished his edits and he has a few days free. He was going to have a break but he said he’s happy to come here to help us.’

  ‘Kit’s coming here?’

  ‘You don’t look too happy about it. I can tell him to keep away if you like.’

  ‘No. We need all the help we can get, I’m only amazed that you said yes to him staying here while you’re away.’

  ‘Yeah. Well. Maybe he isn’t too bad, and helping out a celebrity wedding will all be part of his rehab.’ He smiles.

  ‘You mean he’ll hate it.’

  ‘Exactly, and I think he’s OK. Any trouble, kick him out but I don’t think there will be.’ His phone beeps and he grimaces. ‘That’s Robyn. She’s outside. I can’t miss my train and she’s already freaking out that we’ll be late.’

  He gathers me to him and kisses me. Not a long enough kiss but a warm and delicious one to remember. ‘Thanks for making me feel it’s OK to go. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.’ He smiles. ‘And I swear I’m not doing this to get out of the wedding preparations.’

  ‘Yeah. I believe you.’

  Picking up his overnight bag, he gives me a final brush on my lips and he’s on his way. I follow him as far as the door, not wanting to make a slushy fuss in front of Robyn or our holiday guests who are packing up and leaving today as we prepare for the wedding guests. We’ll be rushed off our feet checking everyone out and supervising the freelance cleaners who come to do the changeovers but I’d rather be busy than dwell on losing Cal, even for a few days.

  He’s off to Greece, I remind myself: it’s a holiday destination not a war zone and nothing will happen to him. Then again, he’s a stranger going into a camp … But I’m more worried about his emotional safety than what might happen to him physically. What if Esme’s family do blame him for what happens or prevent her from seeing him? I can’t think why or they wouldn’t have asked him to go but I can’t help thinking that so much could go wrong. His parting words tumble through my mind. ‘I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.’ They sound familiar.

  Through the window of her car, Robyn shouts and points at her wrist. ‘Cal. Come on.’

  He climbs in, the engine revs and the tyres spin as Robyn shoots off the car park, as if she’s in a rally. They’re gone now so I return to the kitchen and my untouched bacon sandwich, remembering where I’ve heard Cal’s final words before.

  Of course, it was Robyn who told me what Cal said when he left for Syria on the aid mission that ended with him being taken prisoner.

  ‘I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.’ Robyn told me he also said the same words to Isla and he never returned to her. A shiver runs down my spine.

  I laugh at myself. It’s not only Robyn and Isla who have a taste for drama round here. Cal will be back on Saturday as planned and we can finally get on with Lily and Ben’s happy ending.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Thursday – early morning

  Two days before the wedding

  ‘Woof! Woof!’

  Thursday morning starts with a hairy muzzle in my face and throbbing eardrums. Though it’s a good job Mitch has woken me because I must have slept through the alarm clock – or maybe I forgot to set it at all. I crawled into bed last night after staying up late.

  After Cal left for Greece, I spent the day fending off questions about the details of the wedding and reassuring our Demelza’s regulars that we’ll be open next Tuesday as usual. While we cleaned the kitchens, Cal texted me to say he was about to board his flight to Athens. Even though I’m busy, I keep wondering how he’s getting on and if he’ll find Esme and her family in time – and how they and he will react to each other.

  Mitch sleeps in the kitchen now bu
t he got into our room in the night and I was too knackered to take him downstairs. Besides, Cal isn’t here and I wanted the company. As I come round and sit up, he jumps off the bed and runs to the window, claws clattering on the floorboards. He rests his paws on the window ledge of the sash and woofs again. Between the barks, other sounds reach my ears: engines rumbling, voices shouting and reversing warnings beeping.

  ‘OK. I know you want me to see something.’

  Parting the curtains reveals a scene of chaos. In the car park, a lorry loaded with portaloos vies for space with several other vans and a truck. Knowing I should have been up an hour ago, I close the curtains again. My stomach turns over and my skin prickles. I recognise the feeling: the same mix of excitement and sheer terror I had on the opening day of Demelza’s.

  ‘It’s started, boy,’ I whisper to Mitch as if we’re hosting a wake not a wedding, but I know I’m only anxious for everything to go well. I pull on my jeans, drag a T-shirt over my head and pluck a hoodie from the same place I dropped it last night. There’ll be no time for toast now, even if I felt like eating breakfast. The wedding contractors will need guiding to the glamping field. Some have travelled quite a way and been up since before dawn so I bet everyone’s going to be gagging for a cup of tea. Luckily, Demelza’s has that covered.

  I need to give Mitch a run but it’s not safe for him to be out among the vehicles so I leave him in the kitchen and hurry into the car park. Polly is already in the thick of it, clutching a clipboard to her chest and directing the portaloo lorry down the track to the glamping area. At least it’s a dry and calm morning, but the clouds are low and lumpy … and there’s something else, a sharp and not-very-pleasant ‘tang’ on the air that reminds me of when Cal cleans out his horse’s stables.

  ‘Morning,’ Polly says, before ticking an item off her list.

  ‘Really sorry I overslept, Polly. I meant to be up to help you.’

  ‘Everything’s under control,’ she says. ‘The posh loos are here and the power generator people are already setting up in the field. Your dad phoned and said he’d be over as soon as the tepee people arrive.’

  ‘The loos don’t smell very fresh. They’re meant to be the most luxurious ones Rachel could find. I hope they won’t stay like that.’

  ‘That’s a farm smell. It was here before the loos arrived.’ Polly sniffs the air extravagantly. ‘Hmm. I’d say it was getting stronger.’

  I inhale deeply and immediately want to gag. ‘Oh, shit.’

  ‘Exactly,’ says Polly. ‘It’s coming from Gwennap’s farm over the hill.’

  ‘Eww. I know the farmers have to fertilise the fields but I thought Mr Gwennap had done his earlier this spring and he knew the wedding was coming up.’

  ‘He certainly did. Cal went up there a couple of weeks ago and he didn’t mention any plans to muck spread.’

  I allow myself to breathe in again and wish I hadn’t. Once you’re tuned into that pong, you can’t un-smell it. I may be a country girl but it’s beyond acceptable and our wedding guests certainly won’t be impressed.

  ‘I hope it goes away. Lily will be here tomorrow afternoon, and – arghh – with Addison and Jade too.’

  Polly sighs. ‘I’ll try to find out what’s happened but there’s nothing we can do about it now, my bird. I’ll check the weather forecast. We’ll just have to carry on as normal and hope the wind changes.’

  She gives my arm a squeeze. Hoping the wind changes sounds like something out of Mary Poppins and I’ve never felt less like bloody Mary Poppins in my life, although I wish I could wiggle my nose and everything at Kilhallon would be instantly perfect for the wedding.

  ‘I’ll take Mitch out for a quick run then I have to get down to the cafe. We’re laying on early refreshments for the wedding contractors. Hopefully it will keep them sweet, which is more than I can say for the famous Kilhallon fresh air.’

  By lunchtime, a massive wedding machine has rolled into Kilhallon, taking over every inch of space on the main car park and down at Demelza’s too. Cal has designated one of the smaller fields for parking. The tepee people, posh loos, power-generator hire, light and sound people have all arrived along with my dad and his mates with their electrician’s vans. Tomorrow, the florist and event stylists will rock up, followed by even more people who will be arriving on the morning of the wedding itself.

  Our mobile catering stand from the Harbour Lights has been set up near the glamping field/wedding glade with one of the new staff serving refreshments to all the people setting up. The official event caterers arrive later today. Rachel and I recommended a local company from St Trenyan whose premises were damaged by the floods and we’re delighted that Lily agreed to use them.

  By late afternoon, the canvas structure of the tepee is up. It’s bigger and even more stunning than the one we hired for the wedding fair, with a service section at the rear where the caterers will have their field kitchen. My dad has helped the loo-hire and generator people connect up the facilities to the campsite electricity supply. Early this evening, a funky cocktail bar for the tepee arrives. In the meantime, the finishing touches are being made to the flooring in the tent and matting walkways have been laid from the car parks to the marquee.

  Even as the sun starts to set, a few workers stay on to slot the final boards of a stage in place. My dad’s up a stepladder fixing a problem with the fairy lights round one of the tent poles. Kit passes some tools up to him. Rachel left after lunch to collect Freya from her nan’s, but she’ll be back tomorrow. She looked tired and I wonder if she feels she’s bitten off more than she can chew, but she said she was fine. Having seen all the work involved, I now know that we couldn’t have done this wedding without her. Even with the support of my dad and her parents, she’s worked a miracle to fit in the organisation around caring for Freya.

  Polly joins me in the centre of the tent and for a few seconds, we’re frozen to the spot, both unable to believe this is Kilhallon. Now that most people have left for the night, our voices sound loud in the cavernous space: literally, it’s a big blank canvas, which is ready to be decorated tomorrow morning.

  Her eyes widen. ‘It’s like one of them music festivals. We only need the mud and people smoking funny stuff now.’

  ‘I hope we don’t get either,’ I say, hating to sound more Polly-ish than even Polly.

  ‘They’ll doubtless be bringing some arty types with them. You know what they’re like in London,’ Polly says darkly. I’m thinking we have plenty of alternative ‘arty’ types on our own doorstep and that I know quite a few. I wonder what the guests will make of Kilhallon. Ben and Lily’s close friends and family are from the South West but there are people from all over the country descending and even a few from America.

  ‘If you need any help, Kit’s ready to lend a hand.’

  ‘Hmm,’ says Polly. ‘I wasn’t very happy with him turning up and dropping the bombshell about being Cal’s brother. I can see it upset Cal and you but he’s made himself useful during the floods and again now so I suppose I might forgive him.’

  ‘I genuinely think he wants to help. Even Cal seems to tolerate him now and he did help him find Esme.’ I feel sorry for Kit, having to endure Polly’s withering looks. She’s really made him suffer for not being open with any of us when he first turned up. Thank God she doesn’t know the full extent of his previous behaviour: trying to hurt us and getting involved with Mawgan Cade. But that’s another story.

  ‘That’s another thing that’ll end in tears. Fancy swanning off to Greece when he had a job to do here. Sometimes he needs his head examining.’

  ‘It’s not ideal but I didn’t have the heart to stop him. In fact, I didn’t want to stop him. He needs to find out that Esme’s all right and speak to her and her family in person.’

  Polly tuts. ‘Hmm. I fear for the little girl and I suppose you’re right. Cal will never rest until he sees her again. Have you heard from him yet?’

  ‘A text came through in the middle of the ni
ght but I’m not sure when he actually sent it. He was on his way to the camp where Esme and her family were reported to be. He’s hoping they haven’t been moved on yet.’

  She shakes her head. ‘I’m as worried about him as you are. What will he be like if he can’t find her?’

  ‘He’s promised this is the last time. He’ll put it all behind him after this,’ I say, trying to believe it myself.

  ‘Tosh. Cal never forgets anything. Anyway, we’ve other things to worry about. That Addison and Jade and Lily will be here tomorrow.’ She glances at the pennants on the marquee, which are still limp and sad as if they’re as depressed about the whole thing as us. ‘We need that blow Greg Stennack promised us.’

  By eight o’clock, the contractors and suppliers have left for the evening. I’ve returned from the cafe.

  Kit arrives, with Mitch on a lead.

  ‘Thanks for offering to take him out. Has he behaved?’

  ‘He’s been fine. I let him off the lead on the moor and he even came back when I called him.’ Kit ruffles Mitch’s ears. ‘You were a good boy, weren’t you?’

  Mitch’s grumble of pleasure raises a smile. He’s learning to trust Kit now too. ‘Great. One less thing to worry about,’ I reply.

  ‘Have you heard from Cal yet?’

  ‘A quick word in a text. He’s on his way to the camp now. He’s hoping Esme’s family haven’t had to move on before he gets there.’

  ‘I hope so too. He’d be devastated if he got so close and then missed them.’

  ‘Yes …’

  ‘So you’re still worried about him?’ Kit asks.

  ‘It’s the fear of the unknown. If he misses them it would be awful. But if he does see them, who knows what their reaction will be. It could finish him if it all goes wrong.’

  ‘He’s a big boy, he knows the risk he’s taking.’

  I nod, grateful for Kit’s efforts but not in the least bit reassured – so God knows how Cal must be feeling.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

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