The Bonbon Girl

by Linda Finlay

  ‘The coating is very thin,’ she said, frowning.

  ‘That’s why you have to let the nuts cool and then keep repeating the process until you’ve built up a good covering,’ he replied.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, looking up and seeing him pouring the jelly into the moulds. Although she was enjoying what she was doing, it wasn’t the same as working on the confections together.

  By the end of the evening, they had sufficient fondant mice, jelly pigs and sugar plums for a credible window display.

  ‘Luckily these confections will last, so we shouldn’t have any wastage,’ Garren smiled. ‘Right, that’s enough for tonight. You go off to bed and I’ll cover them over. Goodnight and thank you for your help.’

  ‘Oh, goodnight,’ she replied, staring at him in surprise. Usually they finished the night with a pot of tea but clearly that wasn’t forthcoming tonight.

  Although tired, she couldn’t sleep. Her head was spinning with the events of the day. And what a day it had been, she thought. First, the letter from Kitto, then him turning up like that. She smiled into the darkness, then frowned. Did he still love her? Could things ever be the same between them? ‘He’s here, Mammwynn,’ she whispered, her hand going to the pentacle at her neck. A feeling of hope and reassurance flooded through her as she felt the answering jab. However, although he’d explained his reasons for securing a job before coming to find her, she couldn’t help feeling aggrieved he’d taken so long. Why, if the situation had been reversed nothing would have prevented her from hurrying to his side. Still, she’d be seeing him again on Sunday. While Colenso didn’t give a fig for the Ferret or her father, she was pleased her mamm was making a new life for herself and hoped she was happy.

  She’d enjoyed her sweet-making session with Garren tonight. Although she hadn’t had a lesson as such, he had a lovely way of explaining things and she knew she’d remember everything she’d done. He’d seemed a bit distant, though. Perhaps he was tired – he did work long hours. Tomorrow, she’d make sure she helped him in the workshop as soon as she’d finished serving in the shop. She began thinking how she would display their seasonal confections, yet it was Kitto who filled her dreams.

  ✳

  ‘I think that looks wonderful,’ Colenso said, standing back and admiring the window display. Garren had been up early, making jewelled lollies and cheap jelly sweets to add to the mice, pigs and sugar plums they’d made the night before.

  ‘Well, the proof will be in the pudding – or in this case, the sugar plums,’ he grinned. Then as if remembering something, he frowned and hurried back to the workshop, leaving Colenso gazing after him.

  She turned back to see a group of children, noses pressed against the window panes, gazing excitedly at the Christmas confections and tugging at their mother’s sleeve. To her surprise though, apart from the odd mouse or a few sugar plums, it was the normal sweets that sold.

  ‘I can’t understand it,’ she told Garren, going through to the workshop, where the delectable aroma of fruit and nuts made her stomach rumble.

  ‘You haven’t sold all the seasonal fare already?’ he asked, looking up from the pan he was stirring.

  ‘No. Everyone exclaimed how wonderful it all looked but hardly anyone bought anything. The children have had their noses pressed against the window all morning yet they didn’t come inside.’

  ‘Well, they wouldn’t,’ Garren said. ‘Christmas is too far away for their parents to be thinking about buying confections. The window display is to create attention, remember. Don’t worry, those children will now be pestering for Father Christmas to bring them sugar mice, jellied pigs or whatever they desire. The week before the big day we’ll be rushed off our feet, you’ll see.’

  ‘Yet you’ve been busy making more sweets,’ she cried, gesturing to the cooling tables laden with almond-paste sweets coloured and shaped like fruits, glistening dates stuffed with red and green paste, candied orange and lemon peel slices and, incongruously, yet more of the cheap jelly sweets.

  ‘For the well-heeled for whom presenting a seasonal treat to guests is de rigeur,’ he explained. ‘Apart from those jelly sweets, of course, which is probably all parents will be able to afford between now and Christmas.’

  ‘Goodness, I have so much to learn,’ Colenso exclaimed.

  ‘We both do,’ he replied. Although he said it lightly, she had a feeling he wasn’t referring to sweets.

  ‘Well, it’s almost noon so shall I put the kettle on to boil?’

  ‘Yes, by all means,’ he said, reaching out for the brush to wipe down the sides of the pan. ‘Help yourself to bread and cheese.’

  ‘Shall I cut enough for both of us?’ she asked.

  ‘No, I’ll have something later,’ he said, lifting the pan from the heat. ‘Want to get these glass-plate sweets finished.’

  And that seemed to be the way of things for the rest of the week. Although Garren was polite and helpful, he never seemed to take his break when she did. Even when they worked on together in the evenings, he assigned her jobs that were at the other end of the workshop. However, Colenso was so busy helping to make the sweets and serving in the shop, she hardly had time to think. By the time her head hit the pillow at night, she was so exhausted she fell asleep straight away.

  That Sunday, putting the thumping of her heart down to needing a break, she checked her appearance in the mirror over the counter. She’d sponged the stains from her green outfit, tied the matching scarf around her head and clipped on the golden hoops. Then, as the day was fine but brisk, she slipped Mara’s shawl around her shoulders. Calling to Garren that she was leaving, she let herself outside then, unable to resist checking the window display, smiled at the fondant pigs and jellied mice peering out from the dishes of sugar plums.

  ‘Very nice, Cali.’ She spun round to find Kitto grinning at her. He was wearing the heavy serge jacket and flat cap she remembered but whether he was referring to the window display or her, she couldn’t tell.

  ‘I thought we were meeting by the market,’ she replied.

  ‘Couldn’t wait,’ he quipped, holding out his arm. Not wishing to appear churlish, she took it and just had time to glimpse the look of glee on Miss Chenoweth’s face in the window as they set off down the street.

  ‘Have you had a good week?’ she asked brightly.

  ‘Not really. Being the new boy’s not easy. Even though I was taken on as a turner, I get given the rubbish jobs nobody else wants to do. Still, let’s not waste time talking about that. The day is dry so I’m guessing my lady would like a stroll along the prom.’ Her heart leapt at his words. Careful, Colenso, she chided. Better to take things slowly this time. If only her heart would stop beating at the door of the cage. ‘Well?’ he persisted. Seeing him look askance, she nodded. ‘Have you seen much of the town?’ he asked.

  ‘No, not really. I’ve been so busy I’ve not really had time to venture out, apart from the other day. What about you?’

  ‘Saw quite a bit when I was searching for you,’ he replied. ‘There are some beautiful buildings here. Very different from the thatched cottages on The Lizard, some of them. I mean, did you know that here is called Market Jew Street?’ he said as they walked down the steps that led to the lower side. ‘It means Thursday Market, in Cornish. That fine granite building with the tall columns in front of us is the Market House.’

  ‘What does the writing mean?’ she asked, staring up at the engraved letters.

  ‘It’s not Cornish so no one seems to know, although Polly overheard a customer saying it was opened in the 1830s like the rest of the big buildings in the town centre.’

  ‘I never knew you were interested in things like that, Kitto,’ she replied, looking at him in surprise.

  ‘Wait until you see the next building I’ve come across,’ he grinned, leading her down a narrower street. ‘How would you like to live in a house like that?’ he asked, gesturing to his right.

  ‘That would be just wonderful,’ she gasped, staring at the
magnificent busts of two Egyptian women that proudly graced the ornate pillars above the entrance. The front of the building was painted in red, orange and gold, picking out mouldings, figures and patterns. A black cormorant perched under the eaves, and the intricate metalwork to the windows made the whole building look exotic.

  ‘Don’t think we can quite run to a house like that when we’re wed, Cali, but I do want us to have a nice home.’

  ‘Perhaps we should concentrate on getting to know each other again before thinking of things like that,’ she told him as they made their way past a couple of old alehouses and a fine merchant’s house. He shot her a puzzled look but she hardly noticed, for the church with the tall tower was looming before them. Gazing up at the porch she’d huddled in, a shiver ran down her spine.

  ‘Apparently that tower acts as a waymark to seafarers,’ he started to say. ‘Hey, you’ve gone all pale, are you all right?’ he asked, frowning at her.

  ‘Just impatient to get to the sea,’ she murmured, not wishing to dwell on that dreadful night.

  ‘Well, if we turn down here,’ he said, leading her down a little lane. ‘There,’ he cried, gesturing ahead. Sure enough there was the sea, wind whipping up the white horses as it hit the wall and splashed over onto the promenade. ‘Don’t think we’ll get too close unless you fancy a soaking,’ he quipped. Standing well back, they watched the boats pitching and rolling in the swell, even though they were sheltered from the west by Mousehole.

  ‘So, how’s life in the sweetshop?’ he asked as they began walking along, carefully keeping to the edge of the promenade away from the breakers.

  ‘Very busy. We’ve been making those Christmas confections I mentioned the other day.’

  ‘You mean you made those mice and pigs?’ He stopped walking and stared at her, clearly impressed.

  ‘Well, actually I did the sugar plums. Do you know they’re not made of plums at all?’

  ‘Well, I did have an inkling. I mean, since when do you get plums in December? Still, they did look very good,’ he said quickly when he saw her frown. ‘Look, the wind’s freshening, shall we go and have a hot drink and scone or something?’ he said as another wave washed over the wall, splattering the promenade with pebbles and seaweed.

  ‘Good idea,’ she agreed, pulling her shawl tighter round her as they turned and hurried back the way they’d come, although this time he turned up a different lane.

  ‘Everywhere leads to the town,’ he explained when she looked askance.

  Two minutes later they were entering the warmth of the tea room. As before, the fair-haired girl beamed a smile of welcome at Kitto before nodding briskly at Colenso.

  ‘A pot of tea for two and a couple of scones, please, Polly,’ he called, as they made their way to the table by the window they’d occupied before. He sat staring at her for a long moment.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘I was just thinking that you never used to wear a scarf around your hair. Not that you don’t look very nice, er, lovely in fact,’ he said quickly, colour creeping up his cheeks.

  ‘In order to escape from Cadgwith, I had to pretend to be a boy, which meant having my hair shorn,’ she told him.

  ‘Oh Cali, I had no idea,’ he gasped.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s almost back to normal now,’ she assured him when he grimaced.

  ‘No, I meant I had no idea you were suffering like that. Your mother told me you were safe and that you’d be writing to me, so I waited to hear from you. That’s why I learned my letters – so I’d be able to reply.’ She was about to ask him about the schoolmistress but he was already speaking again. ‘It was holding your necklace that gave me comfort.’ Automatically her hand reached inside her dress.

  ‘Yes, I missed it but I’m glad it helped you. I swear blind it has magical properties. Anyhow, in answer to your question, I took to wearing a scarf while my hair was growing and, well, have continued doing so. I quite like the effect, and of course it’s practical when I’m making sweets.’

  ‘I think you look wonderful,’ he murmured, giving her that intense look she remembered. ‘Quite like the hoops too, they make you look like a gypsy.’

  ‘Here we are, lovers,’ Polly said, her comment clearly meant for Kitto as she placed his mug in front of him. ‘Wouldn’t dare risk eating one of them meself,’ she added, placing the scones down on the table and looking pointedly at Colenso. ‘Wouldn’t want to spoil me figure.’ Turning to Kitto, she tittered and ran her hands over her slim hips.

  ‘Luckily Colenso doesn’t have to worry about that,’ he replied. As the girl pouted and flounced back to the counter, Colenso stifled a giggle.

  ‘Oops, I think you’ve upset your admirer,’ she whispered.

  ‘There’s only one admirer I want, Cali,’ he said, looking serious as he took hold of her hand. ‘And I want her to wear my ring,’ he added, delving into his pocket and bringing out a little box. Flipping open the lid, he held it out to her. Her eyes widened as she saw the little red stone winking up at her.

  ‘It’s a garnet, which represents constancy, faith and loyalty. I’m hoping you will accept this ring as a token of my love and intention,’ he told her. ‘I was hoping to offer this in a better setting but the seafront was too cold. Besides, I didn’t want one of those waves washing it away. Well, Colenso, what do you say?’ She looked from the ring to the earnest expression on his face, heard her heart trying to beat down the door of the cage. And yet, there was still that niggle that if he loved her as much as he purported, then the first thing he’d have done on arriving would have been to find her.

  ‘Can I think about it?’ she asked.

  Chapter 31

  The necklace stabbed frantically at Colenso’s chest but she didn’t need it to tell her she’d said the wrong thing. Her heart was doing that. Before she could say anything, though, Kitto had snapped the little box shut and replaced it in his pocket. She knew she’d hurt him, but by the time he turned to face her, he’d regained his composure.

  ‘I’ll not deny I’m disappointed, Cali, especially as being able to buy you a nice ring was the main reason for me taking the job at Wherrytown. But if you’re not sure about us, well …’ he shrugged.

  ‘I thought I needed time to think but …’ she began.

  ‘You’ll have plenty of that while I’m away,’ he cut in, smiling sadly as he got to his feet. ‘I’ll be in touch when I get back.’

  ‘Back?’ she frowned. ‘Back from where?’

  ‘London. I’ve to supervise delivery of a cargo of serpentine shopfronts. Like I said earlier, being the new boy, I get given all the good jobs at the works.’

  ‘How long will you be away?’

  ‘Depends on the weather. Hopefully I’ll be back for Christmas. Take care of yourself,’ he said, hurrying towards the door.

  ‘And you,’ she whispered, too stunned to move. It was the pentacle’s sharp stabbing that brought her to her senses. Why was she letting him go like this? Jumping up, she rushed to the door but by the time she’d got outside, he’d already disappeared. It was only then she realized she didn’t even know where he was staying.

  Tears welled as she stood there cursing her stupidity. A gust of wind blew in from the sea, bringing with it a squall of rain and, knowing it would be futile to walk around looking for him, she headed back to the shop. As she let herself into the workshop, Garren looked up from the copper he was stirring, his eyes widening in alarm.

  ‘Whatever’s the matter? You look half-drowned.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, son, don’t waste time asking daft questions,’ Mr Goss snapped. ‘Go and get out of those wet things, my girl. We’ll have a hot drink ready when you get back,’ he told her, putting down the mould he was using and gently leading her to her room. His caring concern brought a fresh flood of tears as Colenso hurried inside. Then, heedless of her wet clothes, she threw herself down on her bed, crying as if her heart would break.

  It was some time later when, e
xhausted and with no tears left, she changed out of her wet things and emerged. Garren and his father were working at the cooling tables.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Mr Goss said. ‘What do you think of this little lot?’ Grateful for his tact, she went over and looked at the new batch of sugar mice. Their little pink eyes must surely reflect her own, she thought. ‘Good eh? Thought it was time I supervised the making of the Christmas confections. Right, now sit yourself down, girl. Garren, have you got the tea poured yet? I could murder a slice of that shortbread her next door brought round earlier,’ he added, rubbing his hands together. ‘Thought there must be another fire, the way you rushed in,’ he told Colenso.

  His easy chattering and the hot tea revived her somewhat, although she was still cursing her stupidity. Still, Kitto said he should be back by Christmas and that was only three weeks or so away. She’d tell him she would be delighted to accept his beautiful garnet then.

  ‘There’s always so much to do at this time of year,’ Mr Goss was saying. ‘Although it won’t be the same without Meggie.’

  ‘Oh Mr Goss, I’m so sorry. There’s me wallowing in self-pity while you’re suffering.’ Without thinking, she reached out and patted the old man’s hand. ‘And I’m sorry about earlier,’ she said, feeling she should explain. ‘Kitto, my follower, told me he has to take a cargo to London and I got upset because he’ll be away for three weeks or so.’ It was the truth if not the whole story, but she didn’t feel up to admitting her folly.

  ‘Life can be difficult, throwing unexpected things our way,’ Mr Goss murmured. ‘I thought having a bit of free time would be of benefit, but it’s keeping busy that stops me moping. Silly old fool, I’ve only just realized that.’ Knowing he was trying to help, Colenso smiled. As he sipped his tea, lost in his memories, she became aware of Garren watching her.