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

by Ruth Saberton

  He took a big gulp of water, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as though trying to remove the memory. Ella imagined he was wishing he could travel back in time and warn his younger self that no matter how sexy Claudette might be or how flattering it was to be the object of her attention, the price he would pay was far too high.

  It must have been. He wouldn’t be back in Cornwall otherwise.

  “What happened?”

  “Like a fool I told her how I felt and I asked Claudette to leave Jean-Luc to be with me. She always said he worked too hard – neglected her – and I thought we really had something special. I was wrong. She laughed at me and said that we were having fun and she’d never leave her husband for a sous-chef without a Michelin star to his name.” He shook his head as though trying to shake away the memory. “So I left there and then. I had no reference and no job. Everything I’d loved was in Paris and I walked away from it all with little more than my passport and a few euros. I was in pieces.”

  “And came home to Cornwall,” Ella finished. He’d been mending his heart here; of course he had. Now it all made perfect sense.

  “And came home to Cornwall,” agreed Symon. “It’s OK, Ella. Don’t look so worried. I’m not about to top myself in the lake or anything. It was quite a while ago now and I’ve made my peace with it as best I can. I’m not proud of some of the things I did but I’m doing my best to make up for them now.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Ella asked.

  “Because I want you to know I’m not bullshitting you when I say that losing everything isn’t always the end of the world. I’m not going to lie; at the time I really thought my world had ended. But without any of the crap happening, I wouldn’t have come home to Cornwall or started The Plump Seagull or even have been awarded my own Michelin star. I was acting like an utter cock too, and if I’d carried on down that road then I wouldn’t have been a person I’d have liked very much. Sometimes things work out for a higher purpose than we can see.”

  Wow. This had to be the longest speech Ella had ever heard Symon make. She was moved that he’d chosen to share his story with her.

  “You’re not that person,” she said softly. “And Claudette was an idiot to let you go.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Was the pain still there? Did he still love Claudette?

  “Hey, she did me a favour, just like Jonny has for you. Now, forget about my tale of woe for a moment and look around. What do you see?”

  Ella’s heart was racing. “I see you, Symon Tremaine.”

  And she really did. Symon was absolutely beautiful. Her feelings for Jake, once all-consuming, were nothing in comparison to how Ella felt now. As she stared at Symon, with his intense blue eyes and flame-bright hair, she realised this was different from her teenage crush. There was more than just the strong tug of physical attraction. Ella found Symon’s honesty, his considered thoughts, his clever mind and his deft hands and creativity just as sexy as that sculpted body of his, which she longed to feel pressed against hers.

  It was everything. She couldn’t believe it had taken her a lifetime to see it.

  Symon raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “And I see you too. I have for a while now. I see that the chippy attitude hides a woman who’s super talented, and clever and brave, and who really cares about what she does. But apart from the emotional wreck that I am, what else do you see here? I mean, what do you notice about this location? What really strikes you about this place when you look at it?”

  “The house. The views. The amazing parkland,” said Ella, only just managing to stop herself adding that all this was totally wasted on Perry Tregarrick. After all, he was Symon’s friend and harmless if hopeless.

  “Exactly!” Symon cried, so delighted with her answer that Ella felt as though she’d just passed a difficult exam. “Now imagine all of this in perfect condition and running as a restaurant.”

  “A luxury hotel with wonderful dining, top-class service and a real sense of history!” Ella interrupted. Oh! She could see it now! The place restored to its former glory, the gardens manicured and filled with beautiful blooms, the lawns as smooth as bowling greens, marquees for weddings...

  She understood now why he’d brought her here and what he’d been thinking.

  “Oh, Symon! This is your blank canvas! It’s perfect!”

  He turned to face her, his eyes bright with excitement. The passionate nature he’d kept so tightly in check was bubbling to the surface once more. “You get it, Ella, and I knew you would. You see it too. You feel it!”

  Ella did. She felt it all: the high she always experienced when she successfully pulled off an event at the hotel; the thrill of the write-ups in the press; even the satisfaction of sourcing orange and purple bloody gerberas. She knew this must be exactly how it was for Symon too. But feeling things was risky and sometimes you got hurt. It was far safer not to feel anything.

  “Perry needs a sound business to keep this place afloat and I need a new restaurant,” Symon explained. “It came to me last night that this could be the perfect solution. It’ll take time and money and it’ll be slow and hard and probably almost bloody impossible, but I think Polwenna Manor could be it. When you said that you’d left the hotel, I knew I could share the idea with you. What do you say, Ella? You could put some weddings on here, small-scale ones at first maybe? Tents and picnic benches and the whole rustic rubbish thing that looks like tat to most guys?”

  “Marquees! And rustic chic, not rubbish!” laughed Ella. “But yes, that could be amazing. We’d have that whole Port Eliot Festival vibe going on here, or something like it. I think people would love it!”

  “We?” said Symon, and Ella could have kicked herself hard. What was she thinking, allowing herself to get swept away like this? She’d made herself look vulnerable; now that he’d seen her excitement he’d take advantage, make her prove herself ...

  But Symon was nodding slowly.

  “We. Do you know, I like the sound of we very much. I think we could make a great team. But do me one favour? Drop Evil Ella? She’s a great defence mechanism but I like Excited Ella far more and I think she’s a lot more fun to be around.”

  “If I drop Evil Ella who will I be?”

  “The sexy, clever, brave Ella, the Ella I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since she kissed me in the beach café,” Symon replied softly. “That’s the Ella who drives me crazy.”

  And then his hands were cupping her face and his mouth was on hers, and all Ella’s fears melted away. As Symon Tremaine lay Ella down beside the bluebells, his arms holding her so close and his lips straying to her throat, nothing else mattered.

  Chapter 23

  “So, Jonny St Milton,” said Alice Tremaine. “Are you going to tell me the truth about what’s happening at the hotel or am I supposed to believe the gossip in the village shop?”

  “And are you going to accept that you’re not needed at Seaspray any longer and marry me?” Jonny countered, his mouth set in a stubborn line.

  Alice sighed. It seemed that all they did was argue and she was so weary of it. After Jonny had told her that she had to make a choice, Alice had gone quietly to her bedroom and shed a few tears before drying her eyes and going back downstairs. She loved Jonny very dearly but he had to understand she wasn’t the teenager he’d fell in love with all those years ago – she was a woman in her eighties now, with a family and all kinds of responsibilities. She couldn’t give him her undivided attention even if she wanted to. Of course Alice understood his frustration and his fear that their happiness was already based on borrowed time, but she couldn’t just walk away. Since their big argument he’d sent her flowers and letters and told her a thousand times how much he loved her and that he just wanted them to have their time together, but they didn’t seem to be able to reach a compromise. It was breaking her heart that she would have to choose.

  “We’ve talked about all that,” she sighed, reaching out for his han
d and covering it with her own. “Jonny, I am needed. There’s Danny with his job offer, Mo’s worried about something too, and then there’s Symon who really doesn’t like filming but is keeping something from me, and Nick never manages to get out of bed on time—”

  “They’re adults, Ally.” His voice shaking with frustration, Jonny slid his fingers away and made a big show of packing his pipe with tobacco so that she couldn’t see how bright his eyes were. Alice hated being the cause of his unhappiness. “And before you mention Emerald, even she’s moved out. I love you and you love me. Please let’s not waste any more time.”

  Alice was torn. The life Jonny had imagined for them was like a beautiful dream and she longed with all her heart to say “yes” and step straight into it. On the other hand, how could she enjoy that life if it came at the expense of her family? Oh dear, they’d only come out to have a quiet lunch and already they were at loggerheads.

  It was lunchtime on a sleepy Wednesday, that still interim between the bustle of half-term and the vibrant activity of Easter, when the village had a chance to catch its breath before the holiday season began in earnest. As Alice walked down to the harbour café to meet Jonny, ostensibly for a coffee but in reality for another discussion about their relationship, the village was quiet and the shops were empty. A few wealthy-looking day trippers were about, but the explosion of cars stuffed with visitors, suitcases and beach gear was still a little way off.

  Easter wasn’t until April this year, which gave the Pollards even more of an excuse to slope off to the pub rather than repaint door frames and fix window boxes. The Pollards aside, there was the sense that Polwenna Bay was being spruced up for the main event. As Alice sipped coffee at their sun-dappled table, she could see her grandson Nick doing his bit to tidy up by stacking yolk-yellow fish boxes and coiling ropes on the quay. A seagull snoozed on the wall beside her, watching Alice with a half-open beady eye, but even he was far too relaxed in the sunshine to bother harassing her for a bit of sandwich. He was probably saving his strength for the serious business of mugging tourists for ice creams and pasties.

  Alice wished she could follow the seagull’s sleepy example. She didn’t feel relaxed in the slightest. The arrival of Emerald had knocked her sideways and she was still stressed about whether the poor child was happy here. Emerald was a sweet girl – very independent, in a determined way that reminded Alice of Mo and Symon – and she seemed delighted to be in Polwenna Bay, but it couldn’t be easy for her. If only she would stay at Seaspray with them rather than camping out in Mo’s damp caravan. Alice had worried enough when Mo had lived there but, unlike the new arrival, at least Mo was accustomed to the chilly weather and the driving Cornish rain, whereas poor Emerald looked half frozen. A warm bed in the house and a tummy full of stew or hot soup was what she needed, and Alice was longing to fuss over her new grandchild. Dear Lord! They’d lost eighteen whole years of Emerald’s life. Now that was what Alice called wasting time. She could never make up for that, of course, but she could do everything in her power to show Emerald just how loved she was.

  “Maybe we’ve been looking at this the wrong way round?” she said slowly as an idea took hold. It was glaringly obvious and she could hardly believe it hadn’t occurred to her before. “Rather than me moving to the hotel after we’re married, why don’t you move into Seaspray with me?”

  Oh, it would be so wonderful to share her family home with Jonny! Already Alice was picturing them taking afternoon tea on the sunny terrace or pottering in the garden together. The walk up was very steep for him but she was sure they could sort something out there – Nick was always nagging Jake to buy a quad bike and organise vehicle access. Alice could just imagine her and Jonny hooning around on one like a pair of teenagers. What fun!

  But to her disappointment Jonny didn’t jump at her suggestion.

  “I can’t leave the hotel, Ally. Especially now Ella’s quit.”

  So it was true. Sheila Keverne and Ivy Lawrence had been full of the story when Alice had bumped into them at her WI meeting. She suspected that Symon knew more than he was letting on too, since he and Ella were thick as thieves lately. Even so, Alice was shocked. Ella St Milton was a difficult girl, always had been, but she loved her job and was a superb hotel manager. She’d also managed to persuade Symon to film for that food show – which had certainly impressed his grandmother, who knew just how hard it was to make Symon change his mind about anything. Alice had her quiet suspicions that this change of heart wasn’t just down to Ella’s skills in staff management, but she hadn’t said anything aloud. Symon was intensely private and after Mo’s near miss when she’d set him up with Tess, Alice was giving her grandson’s love life a very wide berth.

  “Why on earth did she quit?”

  “She took offence to a decision I made and threw her toys out the pram. Typical Ella, having hysterics.”

  This didn’t sound like Ella to Alice. That girl had great self-control, and one of her icy looks could probably give you frostbite.

  “And what was that decision, exactly?”

  Jonny looked shifty. “She didn’t like my new chef.”

  Alice knew when she wasn’t being told the whole story. Years of raising her grandchildren had given her lie-detecting superpowers.

  “Why not?”

  He spread his hands out in defeat. “Because I said that Teddy could pick him. Don’t look at me like that, Ally! It’s high time the boy stepped up to the plate and had some input. Ella’s had the hotel to herself for long enough and if it’s going to be Teddy’s business at some point he needs to learn how to run the place.”

  “So you pulled rank and employed Teddy’s choice over hers.” Alice gave up. No wonder Ella had decided enough was enough.

  “I wouldn’t have put it like that,” huffed Jonny. “She didn’t have to walk out in a tantrum.”

  “She did if she felt you don’t take her seriously because she’s not a man.” Alice shook her head in exasperation. She loved Jonny dearly but sometimes Alice wanted to grab him by the cravat and drag him into the twenty-first century.

  Jonny gave her the kind of look Nick often did when he knew he was in the wrong but would rather swim around the Shindeep rocks than admit it.

  “She’s made her choice and that’s fine by me,” he said sullenly. “She’s been bloody stubborn and she’s told me her decision’s final. She’s even moving out of her flat.”

  “Goodness,” Alice said. “Where’s she going?”

  He shrugged his tweedy shoulders. “Blowed if I know. Your Symon might. She’s been talking to him non-stop ever since she gave her notice. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was sweet on him.”

  Alice also suspected this. They might seem an unlikely pair but they had far more in common than most people realised. Both were self-contained. Both were passionate about their work. And both, she was certain, had been unlucky in love.

  “Can’t you talk her around? Let her choose her own chef?” she asked gently.

  Jonny crossed his arms and jutted his chin out. Talk about eighty-something going on eight.

  “She’s made her mind up and unless she apologises I’m not saying a word. Besides, Teddy deserves a chance and he needs to settle down. This will be the making of him. You’ll see.”

  Privately, Alice thought it would take more than a hotel to do this. Maybe losing his sports car and having his endless funds curtailed would be a start? Teddy could be charming when he wanted to be, but he was reckless and arrogant and when her granddaughter Issie had briefly dated him Alice hadn’t been happy. She’d been sure that no good would come to her family from that quarter. It had all been superstitious nonsense, of course, but she’d been very relieved when their liaison had ended.

  “So I’m standing by my choice. Teddy’s going to run the hotel from now on. He’ll need a lot of guidance from Tom Elliot and from me.”

  He certainly would, thought Alice, otherwise the hotel would be in the red by teatime. So now Jonny coul
dn’t move out of that place even if he wanted to. Oh dear, so much for her lovely dreams of them zooming up and down the cliff path on a quad. Why couldn’t Jonny see that he was choosing the wrong grandchild? The silly old fool was making a huge mistake.

  “Don’t,” he added.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Look at me like you’re thinking Jonny St Milton, you’re a silly old fool and making a big mistake.”

  Just as well she wasn’t an actor or a spy, thought Alice.

  “It’s your choice, love, although for the record I think it’s the wrong one.” She placed her cup in the saucer and stood up, smiling gently down at him. “But maybe now you know how I feel? It isn’t so easy to give up your home and family when you know they still need you, is it?”

  Jonny looked stricken. “I never wanted to make you feel you had to choose. I love you, Alice. Don’t you love me enough to at least try?”

  “It’s not about not loving me enough or me loving you enough. It’s about having to make that love go around and being unselfish. And love, they tell me, isn’t selfish.” She tucked a five-pound note under the plate and retrieved her bag from the back of the chair. She was done with discussing this. “Let’s stop going round in circles discussing all this and just enjoy the afternoon. How about a walk up to the church and a look at the view?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” agreed Jonny, taking the hint. “And maybe we could have a drink in The Ship afterwards.”

  He rose to his feet and Alice’s heart ached to see how slowly he did this. It always took her aback to see an elderly man superimposed over the vibrant boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

  Suddenly Alice knew she didn’t want to waste the time they’d been gifted; it was too precious to spend it bickering.

  “We’re so lucky to get this second chance, Jonny,” she said gently, as she took his arm and they strolled away from the water’s edge. “Let’s not ruin it.”