The Café at Seashell Cove_A heart-warming laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

by Karen Clarke

  ‘I’ll leave you to your preparations.’

  He was pacing again before I’d left the room, and I was relieved to see Adam by the bar, looking out of place in the well-worn surroundings, like a politician at a homeless shelter. ‘You look amazing,’ he said, eyes lingering around my chest. ‘I like the dress.’ If he was puzzled by the plain grey cardigan I’d pulled on to cover my wrists – the other one had broken out in a rash, now – he didn’t show it. ‘What would you like to drink?’

  Imagining a tussle between Andy Farrington and someone who’d taken offence at one of his jokes, I knew I should stick to soft drinks. ‘A glass of white wine, please,’ I heard myself say, and Adam nodded his approval.

  We’d just settled at a table, facing a scuffed area of wooden flooring, where I assumed karaoke night took place, when Meg and Tilly turned up, bright-faced with anticipation.

  ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all day,’ Meg said, when we’d all greeted each other, and I’d introduced Meg to Adam. ‘Sam’s training for a cycling event, so he can’t make it.’ I noticed Tilly’s eyebrows arch, and wondered what she was thinking.

  ‘Can I get you both a drink?’ Adam asked, and when they’d given their orders and he’d gone back to the bar, which was three-deep now – people must be coming from neighbouring villages – they hunched forward with eager expressions.

  ‘So?’ said Meg, which I knew from old meant tell us everything.

  ‘He seems nice,’ said Tilly. She was wearing an army-style jacket with the sleeves pushed up, and I wished I could do the same. It was roasting in the pub, but I couldn’t bear to expose my rash.

  ‘He is nice,’ I said, and quickly told them about the job in London.

  ‘It sounds amazing,’ sighed Meg, sounding a little bit sad. ‘It’s just a shame you’ve got to go away again, now we’re back in touch.’

  She presented it as a fait accompli. It didn’t occur to her that I might not want the job.

  Wait. Did I want the job? Fifty grand a year. Of course I did.

  ‘You and Sam should come and visit,’ I said, helping myself to a handful of crisps from a china bowl on the table. All the tables had them, I’d noticed. Bill had pushed the boat out. ‘And you,’ I said to Tilly. ‘I’ll give you both my new address, once I’m settled in.’

  ‘Or you could visit us,’ she said. ‘It’s not like you can’t ever leave London.’

  ‘Of course, if I get the chance. I’ll be busy though.’ I told them about the destination weddings and Meg pulled a face. ‘Sam wants to hire a barn owl for our ceremony.’

  ‘An owl?’ Even at Five Star we’d never had such a bizarre request.

  ‘To be the ring bearer. Honestly,’ she said, seeing Tilly’s disbelieving face. ‘It’s a thing, you can look it up.’ We were silent for a moment, imagining it, and when Adam returned with drinks we were in fits of laughter.

  ‘What have I missed?’ he said, which only made us laugh harder.

  He gave a low-level chuckle which turned into a frown as an operatic aria floated from the pocket of his brown suede jacket, which he’d draped over the back of his chair.

  ‘I bet they’ve never heard that sound in here before,’ Tilly said.

  ‘I’d better get this.’ Adam took out his phone. ‘Sorry to be rude.’

  He moved away with it pressed to his ear and disappeared outside, just as Mum and Dad came in, swiftly followed by Rob. The next few minutes were a flurry of greetings and jacket-shedding and drinks orders, and Rob telling Meg that one of his mates in Year Seven had fancied her at school because he ‘liked older women’.

  I kept an eye on the door for Adam. When he came back in he looked distracted. ‘I’m sorry, but there’s a crisis at the bank I need to deal with,’ he said, pulling his jacket back on.

  ‘You’re going back to London, now?’ I stood up, almost sending the table flying, and he reached out a hand and curled it around my wrist.

  ‘I need to make some important calls,’ he said, bringing his head close to mine so I could hear him. ‘But I can do it back at the hotel.’ He glanced at the bar, where Mum and Dad were chatting to Bill, and made a regretful face. ‘I’m so sorry to abandon you, Cassie, I was looking forward to spending the evening with you. Can I call you in the morning?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, disappointment rising like acid. ‘I hope you manage to sort out whatever it is.’

  ‘Something incredibly dull that would make your eyes roll back in your head.’ He squeezed my wrist. I desperately wanted to have a good scratch, but couldn’t think of a polite way to do it, so endured another few seconds as he placed his mouth unexpectedly on mine. It was the briefest of kisses – more of a peck – but held the promise of more to come. As he said goodbye to Meg and Tilly, who were pretending they weren’t watching, I touched my lips with my fingertips and realised I was smiling. The smile stayed as he left and I’d sat back down, and it only died when I looked across to Mum and Dad and saw Danny Fleetwood pulling a pint behind the bar.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘Is there anywhere you don’t work?’ I reached for the wine I’d ordered, having drunk the one Adam had bought me. ‘I’m surprised there are enough hours in the day.’

  ‘I knew it would be busy tonight, so I offered to lend a hand.’ Danny leaned across the bar and raised his voice above the swell of noise. At least everyone seemed in high spirits, and hopefully wouldn’t heckle an anxious comedian. ‘I did some gardening work for Bill earlier this year.’

  Of course he did. ‘When are you getting your knighthood?’

  ‘Funny you should ask. The Queen called me this afternoon.’

  ‘You’ll have to smarten up before going to the palace,’ I said, seeing he was in the same clothes he’d had on earlier. He must have come straight from work.

  ‘I’m not the suited and booted type, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

  I wondered whether he was having a dig at Adam. ‘I can’t imagine you wearing a suit.’

  ‘As it happens, I wore one to my uncle’s funeral when I was six, and at a wedding when I was eleven.’ His eyes crinkled. ‘And then there’s my birthday suit…’

  ‘I’d rather not imagine that, thank you.’ And yet, I was. I slurped my drink and turned away, pausing for a moment when I glimpsed my friends and family, gathered around two tables they’d pushed together. Their faces were lively with chat and laughter, and when I joined them, squeezing between Meg and Mum, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of rightness, as if I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

  ‘Where’s Adam?’ Mum asked, brushing a speck of fluff off my dress.

  ‘He had a work emergency.’ I thought of him in his hotel room again, and wondered whether he often had work emergencies that had to be dealt with immediately.

  ‘Is he a surgeon?’ Rob asked, overhearing. His cheeks were rosy, and some curls had stuck to his forehead like a toddler’s. I could suddenly see what his baby was going to look like, and was certain it was going to be a boy.

  ‘He’s an investment banker,’ I said.

  Rob gave a hammy gasp. ‘You’ll be forever taking his suits to the dry-cleaners.’

  I gave him a beady stare. ‘Sorry, Sandra, I’m sure he’s a good chap, though I can’t see the Clooney resemblance.’

  Mum nudged me with her elbow. ‘Meg said you might have a job lined up in London.’ She looked at me as if to say ‘Well?’ but I was saved from answering by a squeal of microphone static.

  ‘That was my friend, Mike,’ said Andy Farrington. ‘He always was a noisy bugger.’

  A shot of laughter spread around the pub, and I quickly finished my wine.

  ‘Did you hear about the megabytes who formed a rock group? They haven’t had a gig in ages.’ Another rumble of laughter, as everyone caught on.

  ‘Nice one,’ said Rob. ‘I’ll have to remember that.’

  ‘Shush,’ said Dad, with an expression of suppressed mirth I recognised as him preparing to enjoy himself.
He was wearing a dapper waistcoat over his ‘going out’ shirt, and I was pleased that he and Mum had made an effort.

  ‘A pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel in his pants and the bartender says, “Sir, you have a steering wheel in your pants.” “I know,” says the pirate.’ Andy paused. ‘“It’s driving me nuts.”’

  Everyone laughed – Bill making an odd honking noise – and Dad almost choked on his beer. There was no sign of Andy’s earlier nerves, even though a woman standing close by was wearing a blue-and-green stripy top.

  ‘I bet you do karaoke here,’ he said. There was an appreciative roar. ‘I went to a karaoke bar once, that didn’t play any Seventies music.’ His eyes surfed the crowd. ‘At first I was afraid. Oh, I was petrified.’

  More giggles were generated. I glanced over to see Danny leaning on the bar, mouth curved in a smile. As if sensing my gaze he turned and gave me a thumbs-up.

  ‘Adam’s missing out,’ Meg said, close to my ear.

  I jerked my gaze back. ‘Probably not his cup of tea.’ I had nothing to base the opinion on, but when I tried to picture Adam at the table with us, shoulders shaking with laughter, it wouldn’t come into focus.

  Bill came over with a tray of drinks. ‘On the house,’ he said, and I gave him a grateful smile before taking a slug of wine.

  ‘My gran started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She’s eighty now, and we don’t know where the bloody hell she is.’ The laughter grew. ‘Hey, does anyone know how to fix broken hinges?’ Several hands flew up. ‘Well, my door’s always open.’ Mum snorted some Guinness onto the table, and Tilly buckled with laughter.

  I pushed my shoulders down, trying to release the ache across my back. I wanted to laugh along, but was growing tenser, waiting for the moment Andy would say the wrong thing – mention Hitler, or use the ‘c’ word – or break wind into the microphone, and for the laughs to turn to outrage and disgust, and everyone to turn on me.

  My wrist was throbbing and burning and I realised that I’d been scratching without being aware of it. I sipped some more of my drink to distract myself.

  ‘You OK?’ Meg laid a hand on my knee, her face knitted with concern.

  ‘Fine,’ I said, and she studied me for a moment, before turning as Andy said, ‘Did you hear about the bloke who drowned in his muesli? He was pulled under by a strong current.’

  That one elicited a few groans and I quickly finished my wine. No one had touched Adam’s drinks, so I finished those too, even though red wine gave me a headache.

  The room had begun to rotate. I’d barely eaten all day, and the crisp bowl had long since been emptied.

  ‘I’ve heard about this new restaurant on the moon. Great food, but no atmosphere.’

  Laughter again. Thank god.

  I carefully monitored the audience’s reaction for the next half-hour or so, scanning faces to make sure they were laughing and not angry, and that no one looked offended. I also surreptitiously finished off Mum’s glass of Guinness while she wasn’t looking.

  ‘Sometimes, I wish I was an octopus, so I could slap eight people at once.’

  There has a hiss of indrawn breath and a few titters, though Dad found that one hilarious. As if sensing he might have misjudged things, Andy launched into a story about his mother-in-law that had everyone roaring again, but suddenly I couldn’t bear it any more and stood up, swaying slightly. ‘Need some air,’ I said, to nobody in particular. I saw Danny straighten and look over, then his face was blocked by someone approaching the bar. I pushed through the crowd to the door and burst out onto the pavement, gulping as though I’d been locked in a basement for months.

  Instead of clearing my head, the fresh air increased my dizziness, and I staggered round to the garden at the back of the pub, hands out to balance myself. I collapsed on the nearest bench and shut my eyes to stop the spinning, but that made it worse, so I opened them again, and blinked when I saw that Meg and Tilly were sat opposite.

  ‘Where d’you come from?’ My words weren’t working properly. ‘S’like you were in there a second ago,’ I waved an arm. ‘Now, you’re here.’ My hand dropped limply to my lap and I scraped at my wrist.

  ‘She’s trollied.’ Meg’s voice sounded a long way off.

  ‘And she’s crying,’ said Tilly.

  ‘No, ’m not.’ I dabbed my face with my fingers, surprised when they came away wet. ‘S’not crying,’ I slurred. ‘My eyes are running.’

  ‘That’s called crying,’ Meg said, so kindly that something in me came loose, sending more tears storming down my face.

  ‘Cassie, what is it?’ said Tilly. She and Meg were suddenly either side of me, like bookends. Meg placed an arm around my shoulders, and Tilly took hold of my hand. ‘You can talk to us,’ she said gently.

  I tried to speak, but forgot what to say, and made an odd whining noise instead, like a distressed bobcat.

  ‘What’s happened to your wrist?’

  My head drooped down. I’d tugged my sleeve up to scratch more efficiently, and even in the low light it was obvious my wrist was a splodgy mess.

  ‘It looks like eczema,’ said Meg, lifting my arm to look more closely. ‘My mum gets it, especially when she’s stressed.’

  I lifted my head, which seemed to take ages, and caught them trading looks. ‘Are you stressed, Cassie?’ Tilly’s voice sounded weird and I realised she was being assertive.

  ‘’Course I’m bloody stressed,’ I said, and the feeling of release was instant, like taking pressure off a bruise. ‘’ve been fired from my job, which I was good at, by the way.’ I stabbed the air with my finger. ‘My boss was a massive bitch, and I don’t know what to do, ’cos ’ve got no money, and m’parents are sooooooooooooooo so proud, so bloody, bloody, proud of me, ’cos ’ve lied, see?’ I nodded hard, even though it hurt my brain. ‘I’ve told them I’m here on holiday, Meg and Tilly, ’cos I didn’t want them to know I’d lost my brilliant job, because they’re so proud of me, they’re very, very proud, they tell everyone how clever I am, and I was going to be a good boss on my own, but now I don’t have to be, because I’m going back to London to do weddings for Grace, and will probably end up living with Adam because he likes me a LOT.’ I stopped, unsure where I was heading. ‘He’s very handsome, isn’t he?’ Meg’s face zoomed in and out, as if I was fiddling with a telescope. ‘Why you lookin’ at me like that for?’

  ‘Oh, Cassie,’ said Tilly, tightening her grip on my hand. ‘Your parents aren’t going to be angry, or stop being proud of you because you’ve been fired, and you don’t have to go back to London if you don’t want to.’

  ‘Of course I want to, I’m going to do weddings, and I’ll be in charge this time,’ I promised. ‘Can’t stay in Devon, not really, ’cos then I’ll be a failure. Just wish I wasn’t tense all the bloody time, it’s like I’m waiting for something to go wrong, even when it doesn’t go wrong, so I can’t bloody enjoy anything, ever.’ I snuggled against Meg. She was the perfect shape and consistency for cuddling. ‘Sam’s a lucky man,’ I murmured, sleepy now I’d vomited out the words in my head. ‘Sorry for swearing.’

  ‘We had no idea you felt like this.’ Meg enfolded me into her. ‘You seem so in control. You’ve done brilliantly at organising tonight, and your Mum said the cats were a real hit at the café, and people are still talking about games night. They’re going to try it weekly at the pub.’

  ‘Really?’ I tried to look up, but my eyes had shut.

  ‘And my mum’s friend has booked Rodney’s Dad to play at her sixtieth in August.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good.’ My head cleared a little. I pushed away from Meg, my hair flowing with static from the sleeve of her tunic top. ‘Think I need water.’

  ‘Cassie, we should talk about this some more, maybe tomorrow,’ said Tilly, motioning to Meg to help me stand up, but the world had finally stopped spinning like a fairground ride and I shouldered them away.

  ‘Take no notice of me,’ I said, brushing my hands on my dres
s, which was creased from where I’d been sitting. ‘I was being a silly sausage.’ A bit giggly now, I trailed back to the front of the pub, Meg and Tilly close by as if I might topple over.

  The door was propped open, and a wave of laughter flowed out.

  ‘I got a photo in the mail this morning from a speed camera,’ Andy boomed down the microphone. ‘I sent it back. Terrible quality and too expensive.’

  I gave a squawk of laughter and was nearly sick.

  ‘Cassie, I’m glad your chap talked me round,’ Bill said, after I’d weaved my way to the bar to ask for some water. Meg and Tilly hovered like nannies with a fractious toddler.

  ‘Adam?’ I looked around to see if he’d reappeared, wishing he was there so I could snog him. I needed a snog. I hadn’t properly snogged anyone for absolutely ages.

  Bill was frowning. ‘Fleetwood Mac.’ He jutted his head to where Danny was clearing tables. He looked round, but things had gone a bit hazy, and I couldn’t make out the expression on his handsome face. ‘That’s what I call him.’ Bill chuckled. ‘Fleetwood Mac. Or Danny boy. Or Dan the Man.’

  ‘What do you mean, he talked you round?’

  Loud laughter erupted at Andy’s next joke – something about a spaceman – and I had to strain to hear Bill’s answer.

  ‘Well, you know I wasn’t keen, because we try to keep things local, but Danny sent me a clip of his nibs and I fell about laughing. He was right, booking Andy’s been great for business.’

  Fabulous. So Danny had secured the venue for Andy, not me. Brilliant.

  I marched over to Danny, Meg and Tilly at my heels like mother hens.

  ‘Hang on, Cass.’ Meg tried to grab my arm, but I swung away from her.

  ‘Why don’t you stay out of my life?’ I said to Danny, prodding him hard on the shoulder. He put down the glasses he’d been holding and wiped his hands on his jeans.

  ‘Now what have I done?’

  ‘Look at the bloody state of you.’ I bunched the front of his shirt in my hands, and almost laughed at his shocked expression as I yanked him towards me and squashed my mouth against his.