The Icing on the Cake

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘What?’ Charlie widened her eyes innocently. ‘You don’t think you’re entitled to a hot tub session? I would have thought all the tension from sitting in that car, still as a statue, has wreaked havoc with your muscles.’

  ‘Depends,’ Daniel said. ‘Will you be in there with me?’

  ‘I think I’d have to be,’ Charlie replied, ‘to make sure you didn’t succumb to any after-effects of all this.’ She gestured at the flashing lights, the tow truck that had arrived to take Daniel’s BMW to the garage. Its undercarriage was damaged, apparently. It would need a lot of work before it would be drivable again.

  ‘You don’t have much faith in my physical strength,’ he said, as she took his hand and led him back to the others.

  ‘We’re going to the pub,’ Lawrence announced. ‘I don’t know whether any of the food market guys will still be there, but we could all do with a stiff one.’

  ‘I’m going to take Gertie back to the beach,’ Charlie said, ‘but—’

  ‘You don’t have to come, if you’ve got other things to do.’ Juliette pulled her and Daniel into a hug. ‘I’m so glad you’re OK. You know, it is pretty romantic.’ She stepped back and appraised them both. ‘He comes rushing back because some idiot tells him you’re leaving, then goes over the edge and has to be rescued by the woman he loves.’

  ‘Juliette!’ Charlie’s cheeks flamed.

  ‘What?’ Juliette smiled. ‘Isn’t it obvious? It is to me.’

  ‘And me,’ Reenie said, smirking. At least she was looking – and sounding – more like her old self.

  ‘Come on,’ Charlie said, taking Daniel’s hand again. She couldn’t meet his eye. ‘We’ll see you in the pub in ten minutes.’

  Chapter Eight

  By the time she’d parked her bus in its space on the beach, the sun was a burning orb hovering above the horizon, the water flaming pink and gold beneath, as if inviting it into its depths. Daniel was sitting at one of the downstairs tables, Marmite on his lap. He smiled when she approached, but she could see that the evening’s events were catching up with him now that the sirens and adrenalin had been replaced by calm.

  ‘We don’t have to go to the pub,’ she said, sitting opposite him.

  He reached across the table and took her hands. ‘I’d rather go home.’

  ‘Of course. Is Jasper there?’

  He nodded. ‘My dad’s allergic to dogs, so I left him with my neighbour over the weekend. I’m so glad he wasn’t in the car this afternoon. When Juliette called to tell me you were leaving, and then I couldn’t get an answer from you …’

  ‘I’m so sorry that happened.’ She ran her hand up the inside of his arm, sliding her fingers under the soft cotton of his hoodie. ‘I was on the phone to my mum, telling her about looking for a place here, but not wanting to let Juliette know until I was definitely moving out, and Jules got the wrong idea. My old boss, at the café in Ross-on-Wye, had called to ask when I was coming back, and I’d talked to Juliette about it, so she knew it was on my mind. But then …’

  ‘But then?’

  ‘But then I came to see you at the hotel. I had decided that if you couldn’t forgive me for accusing you of shutting Gertie down, then the choice would be harder. I love Porthgolow, and I love The Cornish Cream Tea Bus. I want this to be its home, to be my home, but I also knew that if you didn’t feel the same way about me …’

  ‘You must have known that I did,’ Daniel said. ‘And it started long before that night in the hot tub.’

  ‘Because you kept antagonizing me?’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said, laughing softly. ‘I couldn’t leave you alone. With all my business knowledge and highly attuned understanding of what it means to be professional, I couldn’t stop interfering. I may not have been enamoured with Gertie at the very beginning, but the very first time I met you … I wanted you to succeed, to stay, even if the bus wasn’t my idea of a perfect café venue. Obviously, you have completely proved me wrong on that front.’

  ‘And you’ve come to embrace the whole of Porthgolow a bit more too, if I’m not mistaken?’

  He looked at her but didn’t reply, just absent-mindedly stroked Marmite between the ears while the little dog sat in a state of bliss on his lap.

  ‘You organized and paid for the car park upgrade, the new streetlights – all those small changes that have made Porthgolow shine. And you arranged for Josie to come and cover the food market. I don’t know what it took to convince her to give me a second chance, but thank you.’

  ‘It was easy,’ Daniel said. ‘Your bus was making a name for itself, and as soon as I explained the situation to her, she understood. Besides, I think she liked seeing that drive and passion in you, even if, that evening, it was all directed at me.’ He grinned.

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ Charlie said, her cheeks flushing.

  Daniel pushed her chin up with a finger, so she was forced to look at him. ‘Charlie, your passion and determination are part of the reason I fell for you. You believed in The Cornish Cream Tea Bus, even when it was just an idea, and Gertie was battered and bruised and destined for the scrapheap. Look what’s happened since. You were right.’ He half-stood, clutching Marmite to him so the little dog wouldn’t slide off his knee, pulled something out of his pocket and sat down again.

  ‘Right about what?’ Charlie watched as he opened a chocolate-coloured leather wallet and took out a small slip of paper, laying it flat on the table between them. When she realized what it was, she bit her lip.

  ‘Cornish Cream Tea Bus,’ he read from the ticket on the table. ‘Grand opening, 4 May, Porthgolow. You told me it would be a piece of history one day, but the moment you gave it to me, it felt significant. It took me a bit longer to realize quite how much you meant to me, but not that much longer.’

  ‘You’ve carried this around with you?’ She picked up the ticket, then took his hand.

  ‘Every day. Like a talisman.’

  Charlie shook her head and laughed.

  ‘I have liked you from the day I met you, Charlie Quilter, and now I want you to come home with me.’

  ‘Don’t you want to rest?’ She knew she should at least ask, after what he’d been through that evening, even though every part of her was screaming at her to simply agree.

  Daniel shook his head. ‘I’m not letting you go so soon after I’ve finally got you. Come back with me.’

  She smiled. She felt as if her face might crack open with happiness.

  She locked up the bus and they walked, hand in hand, along the road, Marmite scampering at their feet. The new streetlights burned brightly in the inky twilight. Even from a distance, she could hear the chords of music from inside The Seven Stars and remembered Hugh saying something about reassembling the Cornwall Cornflowers for the end of the bank holiday. Myrtle’s pop-in was in darkness, the bright flowers in the hanging baskets eerie in the gloom, but Stella and Anton’s B&B looked cosy, the rooms glowing behind closed curtains.

  As they reached the bottom of the hill that led up to Juliette’s house and then, a few roads back, Daniel’s, he turned towards the jetty instead. They stopped at the end, gazing out at a sea bathed in silver-grey light.

  ‘My house isn’t like Crystal Waters,’ Daniel said. ‘It’s small, fairly simple.’

  ‘No hot tub in the garden?’ Charlie squeezed his hand.

  He laughed. ‘You can get a bit bored with it, you know. The hot tub.’

  ‘I doubt it – not with that view. But I don’t care. I don’t feel the way I do about you because of your hotel, or your hot tub, just as, I’m sure, you don’t want me for my tables with cup-holders, tiny oven, or even Gertie’s snazzy bell cord.’

  ‘Gertie is great.’

  ‘I can see why you have a new-found love of her after tonight. I do too, to be honest. God, I don’t know what we would have done if—’

  He pressed his forehead against hers. ‘The fire engine would have turned up. It would have been fine. Please … don’t think about it. I’v
e decided not to. We’re together, right now. That’s what counts.’

  ‘In the most perfect spot in the world.’

  ‘It is, now that you’re here.’ He kissed her, and then added, ‘Porthgolow is a special place, all things considered.’ He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head on his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to the thump of his heartbeat, in time with hers.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually Marmite yelped up at them and Daniel scooped the dog into his arms.

  Charlie turned towards the sea again, to the vista that would be her daily view. Not for the next few weeks, or months, but for as long as she wanted it to be. Porthgolow and its sunsets, Juliette and Lawrence, Reenie in her yellow house. They were her friends and this was her home, with Gertie standing proudly on the beach, and Crystal Waters looking over the cove like a glimmering guard dog.

  She didn’t need to hold back any more. She could plan more routes around Cornwall, taking in the sights of Penzance and Truro, Falmouth and Padstow, each with their own unique character. She could grow the food market; develop the idea with Amanda, Myrtle and the other villagers. They could find people to sell toffee apples and warming, spiced stews in autumn, Christmas puddings and mulled wine in winter. They could have more fireworks and another bonfire on the beach for Guy Fawkes. She could see Jonah grow into a bold, brilliant young man and take his first trip as a SeaKing Safaris skipper. She could watch Reenie’s Instagram following grow, people flocking to the village because of the photographs she posted. She could find out, first-hand, what the future held for Juliette and Lawrence, and spend time with them whenever she wanted.

  But, first thing in the morning, she had her meeting with the estate agent. She was committed to making a life for herself here, and she and Marmite needed their own space. She would go back to Cheltenham for a few days to see her mum and dad, pick up some more of her belongings, and then, once she was settled here, she would invite them to come and stay. She could see if Porthgolow had the same magical effect on them as it had on her.

  ‘Ready to go?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Lead the way.’

  Charlie said a silent goodnight to her Cornish Cream Tea Bus, to the sea and the moon, the stars winking above them like the echoes of sparklers.

  When they had reached his terraced house and collected Jasper from his neighbour, Daniel paused. ‘I feel like, after such a momentous day, we need to mark the occasion somehow. What would Hal say?’

  ‘I’m not sure he had any life lessons for this particular scenario,’ Charlie said. ‘Not any he shared with me, anyway.’

  ‘Forget the mistake, remember the lesson?’

  ‘Never, ever listen to someone else’s conversation and think you know what’s going on. That’s the lesson – for Jules on this particular occasion, but it’s important for us all.’

  ‘Right, definitely need to remember that. What else?’ He lowered his voice. ‘Something about love and extra calories?’

  Charlie laughed. ‘How are you remembering all these?’

  ‘Because you told them to me,’ he said. ‘They’re an important part of who you are.’

  ‘Spontaneous moments are always better than planned ones?’ Her breath faltered as his gaze lingered on her lips.

  ‘We had planned on seeing each other tonight,’ Daniel murmured, ‘and I’m not sure my unscheduled visit to the edge of Crumbling Cliff is going to be better than this, though my pulse was racing then – almost as quickly as it is now.’

  ‘OK,’ Charlie swallowed. ‘Let me think.’

  ‘Don’t think for too much longer.’ He kissed the side of her mouth, then opened the door and let the dogs go ahead.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ Charlie said. ‘One of his simplest, but also his best. Live life to the full, Charlie. You only get one chance.’

  Daniel smiled. ‘Perfect. And I can absolutely guarantee that, with me, you will be living life to the full. I’m going to give you a taster as soon as we get inside.’ He pulled her over the threshold and into his arms.

  Charlie laughed, relieved and more than a little delighted that his confidence was firmly back in place.

  As his lips met hers, silencing her laughter, and Charlie gave herself up to him; as she let Daniel Harper overwhelm her senses, promising herself she would give as good as she got just as soon as she could think straight, she knew she was exactly where she needed to be.

  The bus hadn’t just rescued Daniel; it had rescued her. Hal’s gift to her, all those months ago, had been the start of her long road to happiness. Gertie, so forlorn-looking and lost when she had first driven it down the hill into Porthgolow, was now one of the highlights of the seaside village, and Charlie was more proud of her bus – and herself – than she had thought possible. Together, they had turned things around. And this, she realized – her last coherent thought before Daniel’s touch took over her mind as well as her body – was just the beginning. She couldn’t wait to embark on the next stage of the journey.

  Fallen in love with The Cornish Cream Tea Bus, click on the links to hop on for the rest of the journey …

  Don’t Go Baking My Heart [ePub edition] 978-0-00-833214-3

  The Éclair Affair [ePub edition] 978-0-00-833215-0

  Scone’s Away [ePub edition] 978-0-00-833216-7

  Read on for an extract of Cressy’s heart-warming novel, The House of Birds and Butterflies…

  Chapter One

  The robin is a small, brown bird with a red breast, that you often see on Christmas cards. It’s very friendly, and likes to join in with whatever you’re doing in the garden, especially if you’re digging up its dinner. It has a beautiful, bubbly song that always stands out, much like its bright chest.

  — Note from Abby’s notebook

  Abby Field was off the reserve.

  She didn’t know how it had happened, but one minute she was treading the well-worn woodland trail, intent on finding the perfect spot for the ladybird sculpture, the final creature in her nature treasure hunt, and the next she had pushed her way through the branches of the fallen elder and was standing at the side gate of Swallowtail House, looking up at the impressive, empty building. As always, she strained to see inside the grand windows, which remained free of any kind of boards, as if she could discover what Penelope’s life had been like all those years ago.

  She wasn’t sure why she had ended up here now, deviating from her course and slipping away from the nature reserve, but something about this beautiful, deserted building captivated her, and not just because it belonged to her boss, and had been standing empty for over fifteen years. She wondered if any furniture remained, or if the large rooms had been stripped bare of everything except cobwebs. She passed the house’s main gates on her way to and from work every day, could imagine the trail of cars that had, at one time, driven through them. But now they were kept secure, the huge padlock not to be messed with.

  The house might be abandoned, but Penelope Hardinge was still intent on keeping people out.

  She owned the Meadowsweet estate, the greater part of which was now the Meadowsweet Nature Reserve. Only Swallowtail House, abutting the reserve but secluded behind its redbrick wall, was off limits. The stories Abby had been told by long-term residents of Meadowgreen village varied, but it seemed that Penelope and her husband Al had started the reserve soon after their marriage, that Al’s death sixteen years ago had been sudden, and that Penelope’s flight from Swallowtail House had been equally hasty.

  She had left it as if it was plagued, purchasing one of the mock-Tudor houses on the Harrier estate, a five-minute drive out of the village, leaving the grand, Georgian mansion to succumb to the nature she and her late husband loved so much, although she had continued his legacy. She had been running Meadowsweet Reserve with a firm grip ever since, showing no signs of slowing down even though she was now in her sixties.

  For the last eighteen months, Abby had been a part of it. She had found a job that she
was passionate about, and while she occasionally bore the brunt of Penelope’s dissatisfaction, and sometimes felt her confidence shrinking in the older woman’s presence, she could understand why Penelope had to be so strict, especially now the reserve was in trouble.

  Abby closed her eyes against the September sun and listened to her surroundings. The wind rippled through the woodland, the dancing leaves sounding like the rhythmic churn of waves against sand. A robin was singing its unmistakable, bubbling song, and she wondered if it was the young one who, for the last few weeks, had been landing on the windowsill next to the reserve’s reception desk, curiosity winning out over any fear of humans. He was a fluffy bird, his feathers never entirely flat, as if he hadn’t quite got the hang of preening, and she and Rosa had named him Bob. But she wasn’t sure he would stray this far out of his territory, and the reserve wasn’t short of robins delighting the visitors with their upbeat chorus.

  Somewhere in the house’s overgrown grounds was the melodic trill of a warbler. It could be a blackcap or a garden warbler, their songs so similar that, even now, she found it hard to distinguish between them.

  Opening her eyes, Abby turned away from the house and towards the laid-out trails of the nature reserve. She often wondered if Penelope ever returned, if she walked through the rooms of her old home and found it calming, or if her husband’s death had forever tainted the place in her memories.

  Abby didn’t know why she was drawn to it, but ever since she had moved to the village she had found herself frequently staring up at the serene house, as if it held answers to questions she didn’t yet know how to ask.

  The swallowtail butterfly it was named after wasn’t a regular visitor to north Suffolk, making its UK home exclusively in the Norfolk Broads, and this in itself was intriguing. She wondered if, at the time the house had been built, the population of large, yellow butterflies had been much more widespread; like so many other species, its numbers had declined, crowded out by the constant expansion of humans. Stephan, who ran the reserve’s café, had told her that since Meadowsweet records had begun, there had only been two swallowtail butterfly sightings, and those were likely to be visitors from the continent. In some ways, it added to the house’s mystery.