Recipe for Love: A gorgeous Cornish romance (Polwenna Bay Book 5)

by Ruth Saberton

  “None of your business. So, can I count you in?”

  “Sure,” nodded Emerald.

  “Buy us a pint and I might consider it,” Nick agreed grudgingly.

  “See what a mercenary this brother of ours is?” Danny said to Emerald. “He won’t even help the vicar without a bribe. Isn’t that shocking?”

  Nick was unabashed. “There needs to be something in it for me, fam! Those kids are savage when they’re hunting for chocolate!”

  Emerald laughed. She could imagine that kids looking for candy were a force to be reckoned with. And talking of kids hunting for things, now she’d finally pinned Jimmy down Emerald didn’t want to miss him by running late. She was glad that finally they’d have some time to catch up. Their sun-drenched lunches in California and drives along Big Sur felt as though they belonged to another father and daughter. Emerald totally understood that she’d put Jimmy on the spot by turning up here unannounced, but she hadn’t expected him to be constantly busy.

  He was avoiding her – but not for much longer. Today she would finally pin him down and ask a few questions.

  Once she’d said goodbye to her brothers, Emerald headed towards Symon’s restaurant. The short walk gave her a few moments to gather her thoughts as well as to marvel at the cobbles and the whitewashed cottages, as picturesque as anything she’d seen at Disney. With the diamond-paned windows, crumpled rooftops and a merry little river chuckling under a tiny bridge, she thought it was a dead ringer for that street in Harry Potter where the magic wands were sold.

  This was more like it! Emerald paused to snap a couple of pictures to upload to her Instagram feed.

  #England #Cornwall #cute road #cottages

  Her friends at home would go crazy. They’d already gone crazy over her pictures of Nick – not that Emerald would tell him so. Nick was already full of his own blond good looks and didn’t need encouraging. Several of these friends were also cheerleaders, something else that Emerald was keeping to herself. She wouldn’t put it past Nick to borrow her phone and start texting them all. Besides, her friends would be way more excited about Zak Tremaine. They’d think having a rock-musician brother was so cool and although Emerald had only spoken to him on Skype, she had to agree. Zak had an easy-going vibe – unlike her sister Issie, who’d made it obvious during their FaceTime session that she wasn’t happy to meet an interloper.

  Emerald sighed. This was all way harder than she’d ever imagined. She hated to admit it but maybe her mom had been right? Leaf had thought it was better to let her new family seek her out, but Emerald had been so excited at the thought of her English roots and family, as well as charmed by Jimmy on his visits, that she’d ignored this gentle advice. Now she was beginning to wonder (secretly, because she’d never admit as much) whether this hadn’t been a huge mistake. Everyone apart from Issue was being accommodating, but they had their own lives to deal with, didn’t they?

  At least having Mo’s caravan as her base was working well. It afforded her a little break from the intensity of her new family and Emerald guessed they might well feel the same. After all, she was the new arrival and, now that she knew her existence had come as a shock to everyone, Emerald was keen to give them some space to take it all in. Mom was big on giving people space for their own soul journeys; in Mom’s case this applied to boyfriends and landlords mostly, but even so Emerald figured that in terms of taking pressure off it worked. Living up at the caravan and helping Mo with stable chores was the perfect compromise. She was getting to know Mo and having fun learning to ride English style too. Granny Alice was kind but much too full on; she always wanted to cook for Emerald and look after her. Having fended for herself for much of the past eighteen years, Emerald found this suffocating. Nick’s endless questions and insistence she came out drinking with him was exhausting as well. Danny and Jake were nice but they were older and had their own things going on, and Symon seemed to do nothing but work. Then there were the partners and children and complicated family histories to unravel… All in all, it was making Emerald’s head hurt and she was starting to wonder whether her dream of a big family should have stayed just that.

  But too late now. Here she was at The Plump Seagull and there was Jimmy, sitting in the window seat. With his grey hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wearing wrap-around mirrored shades perched on the top of his head and an open-neck shirt with a gold chain, he looked like most sixty-something guys in San Francisco and oddly out of place in Cornwall. His top teeth were worrying his bottom lip and his brow was crinkled. Emerald felt her stomach fold with tenderness. Maybe it was because she didn’t know Jimmy as well as the others, or perhaps it was simply because she didn’t have their expectations of what he should be as a father, but at that very moment Emerald felt she really saw him as a person. Jimmy was as scared and confused and lost as everyone else on the planet; being her father didn’t make him any wiser.

  As though sensing her thinking about him, Jimmy glanced up. Catching sight of her, he waved delightedly. Emerald waved back. He was a nice man, too nice to face reality, which maybe was his hamartia? His fatal flaw? (Mike, the English teacher, had been a fan of Aristotle.) Mulling this over, Emerald joined him inside, where they hugged hello, talked a little then browsed the menu, eventually plumping for the chowder. It was a San Francisco favourite she often enjoyed and Emerald was horrified to feel tearful as she thought of Pier 39, the vibrant sunny streets and the trolleys clanking up the steep hills. Luckily Jimmy was busy chatting to the waitress taking their order, which gave Emerald time to blink the tears away.

  “Where’s Symon today, Kelly?” Jimmy was asking, peering over the waitress’s shoulder as the service door swung open. “He’s not taken a Saturday off, surely?”

  The girl laughed. “Yeah, right. Your son doesn’t know what a day off is. I’m lucky I get one! No, he’s up at the hotel doing the wedding.”

  Jimmy looked blank.

  “The celebrity wedding at the Polwenna Bay Hotel? Georgie Angel and Tabitha Morr?” Kelly shook her head when Jimmy still didn’t react. “The whole village has only been talking about it for months.”

  Jimmy gave Emerald a rueful smile. “I’ve had one or two other things on my mind lately. So how come Symon’s involved? I thought they had a famous chef?”

  “Who decided to quit at the eleventh hour,” Kelly said, wide-eyed and loving the drama. “Sy’s stepped in to save the day. We’ve hardly seen him since Ella came and begged for help. Tony’s going spare.”

  “Sounds like Symon,” said Jimmy, ignoring the last part of this. “He’s got such a kind heart, that boy. I hope the St Miltons aren’t taking advantage.”

  “We all reckon Evil Ella’s paying him loads,” Kelly said. “Nobody would work for her otherwise.”

  Emerald was trying to keep up with all of this but it was impossible. Figuring out who was who in this village was like watching all the episodes of a soap in one hit and not in the right order. Everyone seemed to be related to everyone else or had been married to them or was feuding with them.

  “Welcome to Polwenna,” was Jimmy’s wry response when Emerald voiced this observation. “And talking of being related to everyone, how are you finding it? Are the kids being nice to you?”

  Emerald, who’d been about to take a sip of her mineral water, spluttered into her drink at this casual remark.

  “If you’d been about lately, you’d know,” she shrugged. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

  The blue eyes slipped away like ketchup slipping down a hot dog.

  “I haven’t, love. I’ve been busy working at the marina.”

  “That’s bull.” Emerald gave him a stern look. “You’ve hidden because you think I want something or that I’m going to upset your family. And you feel guilty about them and bad about me. You can’t please us all, so you hide.”

  Jimmy stared down at the snowy white linen. “I do feel bad about it all. I feel awful that you grew up without me and I’m ashamed that I wasn’t there.”r />
  “But I know that wasn’t down to you! It was Mom’s choice.”

  “Maybe, but I should have kept in touch with her at least. She was a sweet girl and she was there for me when… when…” He paused, visibly gathered himself and then continued. “Your mum was there for me during a rough time in my life. I wish I’d been there for her in return.”

  Emerald nodded. She and Jimmy had already had this conversation.

  “Hey, it’s OK. Mom never thought that. She wanted a baby,” she said gently. “She wanted me.”

  “And so would I have done if I’d known about you.” Jimmy reached across the table for her hand. His was trembling. “Emerald, I feel like I’ve let you both down and I guess I didn’t want my family to know that. It’s pathetic but that’s how I felt. They already think I’m a useless father, yes they do!” Seeing Emerald about to protest his tone grew firmer. “I’ve heard Jake and Danny talking about me. They think I don’t know it but they don’t trust me near the business. I don’t blame them; whenever I have an idea it goes wrong. Christ, I used to hear my mother and father too. Useless. Weak. Feckless. Those were the words your grandfather used to like to use when describing me.”

  “He sounds like a real fun guy,” said Emerald drily.

  Jimmy laughed. “I don’t think Pa knew what fun was. It was all about duty and the army with him, and I was never going to be forces material. I grew up listening to him criticising me on a daily basis and maybe he was right? Maybe I am a useless waste of time.”

  Not having a dad was better than growing up with a bad one, Emerald realised.

  “Of course he wasn’t,” she said. “Hey, you’re a great dad, I can see that. The others love you to bits no matter what.”

  But Jimmy wasn’t listening. “My old man had some good qualities too, don’t get me wrong. He was determined, stubborn and brave – so you can see where you get those parts of your personality from! I suppose he was old school. He’d fought in the war and he had high standards. I just didn’t reach them. When I met Penny, my wife, it was as though the world suddenly made sense. Penny liked me. She saw me. She believed in me. Together there was nothing we couldn’t do. “

  He was still holding her hand. Emerald squeezed his.

  “You must have missed her so much.”

  “I still miss her every day,” Jimmy said quietly. “Pen made me believe I could be the man I always wanted to be. I was able to be the person she deserved, the person she saw. When I lost her it felt as though I lost everything.”

  There was a silence, interrupted only by the chink of cutlery against china and the rise and fall of murmured conversations.

  Emerald thought she understood.

  “Your family are all you have left of that love. You were afraid that if you told them about me then that would destroy everything that was left.”

  Jimmy sighed, slipped his hand away and reached for his drink. Swirling it thoughtfully, he said, “I suppose so. Deep down I wanted to uphold that perfect love. Unsullied. Pure. You mum and I were friends…”

  He flushed and Emerald, who’d grown up with Leaf and her string of friends took pity on him.

  “It’s OK, Jimmy. I’m not here thinking you and Mom were Romeo and Juliet. I know how these things go. It was fun and that was all. You travelled, tried to mend your broken heart in a faraway land and then came home. The way I see it, it’s no big deal. It’s how life is.”

  He shook his head wonderingly. “How did you get so level-headed so young?”

  Emerald smiled. “You get to watch a lot of Oprah when you’re home-schooled! And I read a heck of a lot. Heathcliff never got over Catherine, right? And you never got over your Penny. I think it’s really romantic – and so will the others if you tell them what you’ve told me.”

  “There’s been nobody since,” he said softly. “Or at least nobody who matched up to Penny. There never could be. You see, Emerald, when a Tremaine gives their heart they give it one hundred percent, body and soul. We love for life.”

  And Emerald, in the warmth of the restaurant, shivered at these words. In reality, they didn’t seem quite so romantic. Hearts once given could be broken, in some cases never to be mended again, and the idea of giving your love totally and utterly suddenly seemed very scary indeed.

  If it was love that had made Jimmy Tremaine this sad and lonely then, thought Emerald, you could keep it.

  Chapter 18

  As long as she lived she was never going to be responsible for another celebrity wedding, Ella St Milton promised herself as she hid behind a giant arrangement of purple and orange flowers to enjoy a few seconds’ peace. It had been manic from the moment she’d opened her eyes. One member of a re-formed boy band was distraught because orange fake tan was smeared on his white linen suit, another former pop star had twisted her ankle, and Justin Anderson had enjoyed a scuffle with the paps – all before the bride and groom had even exchanged vows. Now that the reception was in full swing, Ella was ready to collapse in a heap.

  She wouldn’t be surprised if all her hair went grey by tomorrow from the stress of it all; Georgie Angel’s wedding had probably taken a few years off her life too. From the frantic scramble to find the purple and orange flowers to the military-style security required to guard the exclusive pictures, to the bride’s meltdown when she’d snapped an acrylic nail, today had been nothing short of an ordeal – and it wasn’t even over yet.

  Thank God that in the frantic run-up to the big day nobody from the wedding party had been too distraught by Charlie Barton doing a runner. Ella had done her best to smooth over the shock of his departure by making sure that her clients were aware of Symon Tremaine’s credentials. After some initial hysterics (Tabitha) and threats of suing the hotel’s arse off (Georgie), they’d calmed down sufficiently to read reviews of The Plump Seagull and to let Symon devise a menu. They weren’t happy but they’d been mollified by Symon’s Michelin star and a massive discount on their bill, which might have cost Ella most of her profits but had ultimately ensured that Charlie’s bid to sabotage her flagship wedding would be unsuccessful.

  Ella made a mental note to never, ever get romantically involved with staff again. Especially temperamental chefs.

  She knew she owed Symon Tremaine big time for agreeing to step in at the eleventh hour. As she’d suspected, and as Symon had predicted, Charlie hadn’t done any preparation at all for the wedding breakfast. Worse, it transpired that he’d forbidden Klaus from getting on with anything without his say-so. The freezers were empty, nothing had been ordered and even the kitchen staff, used to Charlie’s erratic manner of doing things, were terrified. When she and Symon had assembled them to explain what was happening now that Charlie had quit, everyone had looked delighted to have a plan. Poor Klaus had almost shed tears of relief.

  “Have any orders been placed or menu plans agreed?” Symon had asked them. He might be quietly spoken and have none of Charlie’s swagger, but he was certainly able to command respect. Ella had noticed that as soon as he’d entered the kitchen everyone, from the lad who scrubbed the pans to the sous-chef, had stood up a little straighter and given him their full attention.

  “Not as far as I’m aware, Chef,” Klaus had replied, wringing his hands. “In fact, I’m almost certain nothing’s been ordered. He wouldn’t let me do any of it.”

  “Nothing’s been ordered? What the hell were you thinking?” Ella had bellowed, rounding on Klaus. Terror sharpened her voice and panic made her cruel. “Are you an idiot? What kind of kitchen orders nothing for a wedding breakfast?”

  Symon had placed a hand on her arm, and something in his touch had calmed Ella. Without him needing to utter a word, his blue eyes had promised that all would be well. Admittedly her pulse had still been racing somewhat, but she’d had the oddest conviction that this quiet man with his fox-red hair and unassuming manner was the life raft that would keep her afloat.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss St Milton,” Klaus said. “This is how Charlie likes to work. He�
��s creative. He says he has to be free to have ideas. I should have said something. Of course, I take full responsibility.”

  Poor Klaus must have suffered dreadfully having to work with such an erratic, disorganised and despotic chef, but he’d never once resorted to bitching and moaning about the situation. In fact, none of the kitchen staff had. Realising this, Ella had felt ashamed for taking her panic out on them. Deep down, in the brutally honest and self-aware part of her that Ella did her utmost to keep hidden, she knew she had to accept responsibility for this mess as well. After all, she’d been more than happy to leave Charlie to it, and once their relationship had soured beyond repair she’d actively avoided the kitchens.

  “It’s not your fault, Klaus. We understand how Charlie likes to work – don’t we, Ella?” Symon had said gently.

  Ella had found herself nodding. Oh yes, she understood that Charlie liked to fly by the seat of his pants, just as she also understood that Charlie would be laughing his head off right now. Where on earth was she supposed to source food for one hundred and sixty guests with only a few days’ notice? The nearest supermarket?

  It was impossible. As good as the local supermarkets were, their finest wouldn’t cut it with Georgie’s celebrity wedding guests, and neither would a quick bulk order from Patsy’s Pasties.

  All Ella’s hard work had been for nothing. The hotel’s reputation would never recover from this. She’d failed.

  “What are we going to do?” she’d asked. Her mouth was dry.

  Symon’s lips had quirked upwards. “We are going to do nothing, Ella. You are going to press on with organising the final details for this wedding, while my team here and I put together a wedding breakfast that people will be talking about for months.”

  Ella had stared at him. “You think you can do that?”

  “I know I can do that,” Symon had replied. He’d turned to the assembled kitchen staff. “Can’t we, everyone?”

  “Yes, Chef!” they’d chorused, brimming with confidence now that Symon had arrived.