The Little Shop in Cornwall: A heartwarming and feel good beach read

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The Little Shop in Cornwall: A heartwarming and feel good beach read Page 3

by Helen Pollard


  ‘Who was that on the beach?’ Evelyn asked Claudia over coffee before opening. ‘The girl with the only hair in Porthsteren more colourful than yours?’

  Claudia ran her fingers through her curls and chuckled. ‘Millie. She and her father are new to Porthsteren. They’ve moved down from Scotland, although he’s English, apparently. I assumed they were tourists when they looked round Healing Waves yesterday. Well, Millie looked round. Her father was only along in a supervisory capacity. I don’t think he’s into New Age.’

  ‘I’d heard we had newcomers,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Libby mentioned it last night when I called in the General Store for tortilla chips.’ She shot an accusing look at Evelyn. ‘We ran out, somehow. Libby said he’s a widower?’

  Claudia hesitated, but word would get around sooner or later. Better it came accurately from her than through the Porthsteren version of Chinese Whispers. ‘Yes. Millie’s mother died of cancer last year.’

  ‘Poor man,’ Evelyn murmured. ‘Losing your wife and bringing up a teenager on your own. And so hard for the girl.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Claudia agreed. ‘But I do hope they’ll be able to move on with their lives.’

  ‘Is that a hint that we shouldn’t be speculating about their past when they’re trying to create a new future?’ Sarah cast a pointed glance at her partner.

  Claudia maintained an innocent expression as she sipped her decaff latte. ‘It’s not for me to dictate what people talk about. All I’m saying – and I speak from personal experience – is that if you’re trying to make a new start, it’s not helpful when people keep on delving into your past. I’m sure Millie and her dad will expect curious questions along the lines of “What brings you so far south?” and the like, but I’m equally sure they might prefer to keep the more painful details to themselves.’

  ‘Evie and I promise not to fuel the gossip,’ Sarah said sincerely, reaching her arm around Evelyn’s shoulders. ‘Don’t we, Evie?’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘You know I don’t mean you two, specifically.’ Claudia was mindful that Sarah and Evelyn had never delved too far into her past, for which she was grateful. Sarah had accepted that Claudia had shared as much as she was willing to – a painful divorce, a career that no longer meant anything to her, a desire to start afresh – and had tactfully persuaded Evelyn to do the same. ‘But The Porthsteren Page Turner does seem to be a hub of gossip.’

  ‘Is it our fault we offer the best view and the best coffee?’ Evelyn said.

  Claudia glanced at the turquoise sea and smiled. ‘No. Can’t be helped.’ She tapped a finger against her cup. ‘I might take a housewarming gift to our newcomers this evening. A suitable crystal, perhaps.’

  Sarah frowned. ‘I thought you said the father was unimpressed by your wares?’

  ‘He was. But there’s Millie to consider.’ As Sarah and Evelyn gathered their cups, Claudia sighed. ‘Two more minutes, then I’ll open up.’

  Once alone, she sat quietly, feasting on the view before her. Two minutes could never be enough. She would sit here all day, if she could. There was always something to see. Serene sailboats floating by, sails crisp white against the blue of the sea and sky. Speedboats zipping past. Paddle-boarders hugging the coastline. Claudia envied them their leg muscles – no amount of yoga would allow her to do that. Kayakers edging their way around the rocks. Kites adding dots of colour to the sky. Dogs chasing madly along the sand, barking, plunging into the water, mad as hatters.

  In those two minutes of blissful solitude, Claudia gave her daily thanks to whoever or whatever was responsible for guiding her here.

  Not knowing Millie’s address was no obstacle in Porthsteren. All Claudia had to do was phone Libby at the General Store who provided her with the information she needed, including the father’s name – Jason Craig. There wasn’t much you couldn’t find out in this place.

  It was such a nice evening, Claudia decided to walk – along the beach road, past the crowded fishermen’s cottages by the harbour, and steeply on past the surprising variety of larger housing up Cliff Road.

  The Craig house was a modern concoction of wood and glass and balconies, situated on the flat after Cliff Road’s incline evened out.

  As Claudia paused to catch her breath after the climb, she studied the house, hidden away from the road by a screen of trees. She imagined it would have fantastic views from the other side.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked down the path and knocked, keeping her fingers crossed that Millie would answer.

  No such luck. Millie’s father opened the door, his jeans shabby, his T-shirt a little grubby. Perhaps he’d been unpacking.

  ‘Hi.’ She flashed him her brightest smile.

  He stared at her. ‘Er. Hi?’

  Claudia held out a hand. ‘Claudia Bennett. Healing Waves.’

  ‘Yes. I remember.’ He shook her hand – reluctantly, she felt. ‘Jason Craig.’

  ‘Good to meet you properly. Is Millie in?’

  He frowned. ‘She’s in the bath.’

  Great timing, Claudia. ‘That’s a shame. I brought a welcome gift to say I hope you’ll both be happy here in Porthsteren.’ She handed over the tissue-wrapped package, although she herself felt about as welcome on his doorstep as something the cat had dragged in.

  His eyebrows shot up. ‘A gift?’ Taking it, he managed a curt ‘Thank you’, and then an awkward moment followed while he decided what to do with it. Finally, he unwrapped it, revealing a long, smooth black crystal on a stout chain. He stared at it, at a loss.

  Oh, Millie, why did you have to have a bath now? ‘It’s black tourmaline,’ Claudia explained. ‘The best place for it is near your door. It protects, and it blocks negative energies.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Millie’s father held the crystal as though she’d presented him with a spider dangling from a thread, clearly torn between being polite and wanting to say what he really thought.

  Claudia hid a smile. ‘Look at it this way – it can’t do any harm, can it? And by hanging it, you’ll have made a local shopkeeper very happy.’

  ‘Do you bring these to everyone who moves to Porthsteren?’ he asked, his tone cynical. He obviously thought she was only after more of his daughter’s business.

  Her hackles rose. ‘If I’ve met someone, or if they’ve been into Healing Waves, then yes, I do.’

  ‘That’s very welcoming of you.’

  ‘Or a cynical ploy to get people into my shop?’

  He merely raised an eyebrow.

  Her voice colder, Claudia said, ‘It’s primarily a welcome. People welcomed me when I moved here, and I like to pay it forward. If it has a knock-on effect by tempting people into Healing Waves, then I’m not complaining.’ With a sigh, she said, ‘Just hang the wretched crystal, Mr Craig. It won’t kill you.’ She turned to leave.

  ‘It’s Jason,’ he said. ‘No need for formalities.’ When she turned back, he managed a small – very small – smile. ‘After all, you did bring us a housewarming gift.’

  It was a concession of sorts, Claudia supposed, but she had no intention of pushing her luck. She nodded and scarpered.

  ‘What’s that?’ Millie asked as she came downstairs, her face pink from the heat of her bath.

  ‘Our local, friendly shopkeeper brought us a housewarming present.’

  Millie inspected the crystal. ‘Hmm. Black. Not very pretty. But it has interesting markings.’

  Jason could have pointed out that nearly everything Millie wore nowadays was black, but he refrained. ‘She said it should go by the door. Apparently, it’ll protect us or some other nonsense.’

  ‘That’s thoughtful. What is it?’

  ‘I… er.’ He’d already forgotten, probably because it was information he attached no importance to.

  Millie delved into the tissue and found a label. ‘Black tourmaline.’ Her pale blue eyes met his own. ‘You are going to put it up, aren’t you?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to, no.’

  ‘Dad, you
have to! What if she calls again?’

  Jason couldn’t imagine why Claudia Bennett would have any reason to call again. ‘Look, Millie, it was good of her to bring it, I suppose, but we hardly know the woman.’

  The mutinous expression his daughter wore so well – and Jason had come to know so well – appeared. ‘Actually, I do know her a bit. We chatted on the beach this morning. She’s nice.’

  Jason’s desire for his daughter to make friends and become comfortable chatting with the locals warred with irritation that she’d chosen a woman who peddled crystals for a living.

  ‘What did you talk about?’

  ‘Just that we moved here. She thought we were on holiday.’

  Jason knew not to push any further. Millie only ever said as much as she wanted to, if anything at all.

  ‘So, are you going to hang it up or not?’ she asked.

  Jason glared at the crystal. ‘Fine. We’ll hang the blasted thing.’

  As he teetered on a stepladder, screwing a hook into his pristine ceiling, he cursed Claudia Bennett… Although, judging by some of the goods she stocked, she might have a thing or two over him when it came to curses.

  ‘How did your welcome gift go down with the newcomers?’ Sarah asked Claudia over coffee the next morning.

  ‘Millie was in the bath, so I didn’t see her. But her father looked at me like I’d handed him a shrunken head.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘You knew he would, so why bother? For Millie? Or to piss off her father?’

  ‘It’s my traditional housewarming gift.’ Claudia cocked her head to one side, her eyes glinting with mischief. ‘But in answer to your question? Both, I suppose.’

  ‘So, what’s their house like?’ Evelyn asked, keen as ever for details.

  Claudia obliged. ‘Fancy. All wood and glass. The kind of thing you might expect an architect to choose. And it must have a fantastic sea view. Everything seems so spacious up there on Cliff Road.’

  ‘Hmmph. Unlike Chapel Hill,’ Evelyn grumbled. ‘We drove down it on our way in this morning. There were vans everywhere, ready to start renovating the newsagent’s. That road’s narrow enough as it is. They’re causing chaos.’

  ‘It shouldn’t last too long,’ Claudia said. ‘If the new people have only got a six-month season, they’ll want to be up and running ASAP. No word about what it’ll be yet?’

  ‘None.’ Sarah gave Claudia a considered look. ‘Are you worried, honey?’

  ‘Me? No. Someone taking on that mess of a place and turning it into another thriving business should boost trade for all of us. Besides, there may be room in Porthsteren for more cafés or souvenir shops, but I reckon there’s a limit to how many essential oils and crystals one village can sell.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘Healing Waves is pretty unique. As is its owner. I can’t see anyone trying to replicate either of you!’

  Claudia was pleased at Sarah’s compliment as she went to open up. Healing Waves was unique in Porthsteren, beautifully positioned and complementing the Page Turner next door. Both shops attracted tourists, but just as importantly, they were popular with the locals, too, giving them enough off-season custom to justify all-year-round opening.

  Still, by the time she closed that evening, her curiosity was piqued enough to make her take an after-work stroll to the harbour. As she walked, Claudia tried to view the village with a visitor’s eye. The buildings all along the beach road were picturesque, but it was the harbour to which people gravitated to admire the boats, browse the shops, sample the cafés and wander up the side streets for a sense of what the place was like in days gone by.

  At the harbour, she turned back to look at the white wooden building that was Healing Waves and The Porthsteren Page Turner – the only building on the beach side of the road, just before the rocks signalled the end of the bay. Anyone who fancied a walk and had an ounce of curiosity would aim for it.

  Past the General Store, Claudia turned up Chapel Hill. The builders’ vans were packing up for the day, causing problems on the narrow street. Claudia squeezed past to the new shop window, but she couldn’t see any clues – it was covered from the inside.

  Ah, well. She may be none the wiser, but keeping one business eye and one tourist eye open on her walk had reminded her that her own shop was in a great location.

  As she was about to turn away, one of the workmen slid a large chipboard sign in the window:

  Coming soon! Exciting new store for Porthsteren!

  Claudia would hardly call it a store, but she supposed ‘Exciting new shop in a small, possibly haunted, poky old building’ didn’t have quite the same ring to it, did it?

  Chapter Three

  Jason had timed their move so they had a week to settle in before Millie started her new school and he his new job. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but by Tuesday, the house was already pretty much in order. They still had Millie’s uniform to buy, and Jason needed to get to grips with information his new firm had sent him – policy documents that would have you pull out your own eyeballs with boredom; minutes of meetings pertaining to projects he’d been allocated – but they deserved a break.

  ‘Fancy going out?’ he suggested after breakfast. ‘We could walk around the harbour again, and along the beach. I wouldn’t mind a proper look in that bookshop. Have a coffee.’

  Millie shrugged. He took it as enthusiasm.

  They walked down the hill in near-silence, although that was sometimes better than chatting. Chatting often led to arguments, and it was too nice a day for that. At the harbour, they took another look at the shops, then walked round the harbour walls. All the while, Millie took selfies to post on social media – yet another bone of contention between them. Jason hated social media. Millie swore blind that it was necessary if you wanted to fit in. Did he want her to be a social outcast?

  On the beach, Millie picked up a stone and skimmed it across the waves.

  Surprised, he said, ‘I didn’t know you could do that.’

  ‘Claudia showed me how.’

  A bubble of resentment rose in Jason’s throat. That was something a father did with his daughter, wasn’t it? Not some random hippie shop owner.

  Then why haven’t you taught her yourself?

  Because she wasn’t interested when she was little. And I always thought there’d be more time. Then there was the thing with Gemma. And suddenly my daughter’s too old to want anything to do with me.

  Millie took a quick peek in the bookshop with him but soon declared that she wanted a ‘proper’ look in Healing Waves.

  ‘Okay.’ If you must. ‘Meet me outside for a coffee when you’re done, if you like?’

  He watched her clomp off, then returned his attention to the non-fiction shelves. Breathing deeply, he allowed that special paper smell mingled with the wonderful aroma of coffee to calm his senses.

  Jason loved all things digital, but there was something about the physical book, and The Porthsteren Page Turner was as perfect an environment as he could wish for. Books and coffee – what was not to love?

  Polished wooden shelves divided into subject sections filled the back and left walls of the store; lower shelves and tables at the front of the store were given over to fiction. The coffee counter was to the back and right, with just a few tables for seating. The owners presumably expected customers to prefer to sit outside – and no wonder, with that view.

  Too tempted by the aroma, he gave up on the books and ordered a coffee, choosing a table outside and taking his jacket off to feel the sun on his arms. Fabulous. He couldn’t remember ever being in just a T-shirt in April in Edinburgh. Looking around, he sighed with satisfaction. Porthsteren had cafés aplenty, but the coffee the short-haired woman served him was good, and as he looked out at the sparkling sea and endless sky, he couldn’t see the need to try anywhere else. In fact, the only downside to the location was that it was joined at the hip to Healing Waves.

  Millie had obviously taken a shine to Claudia Bennett. Jason supposed that if
it wasn’t for the nature of the woman’s business, he might have taken to her himself. She was bubbly; attractive, if you went for wild hair and golden eyes and floaty clothes. As a plus point, she hadn’t been nosy about his house – not that he’d invited her in. Perhaps he should have, since she’d brought a gift?

  Jason sighed. It was difficult, walking that tightrope between wanting to keep his business private, yet not wanting to come across as stand-offish. If he expected his daughter to make an effort, he should expect the same of himself. They’d been welcomed wherever they had shown their faces, but Claudia had gone a step further, turning up on their doorstep like that.

  Had he been frosty? He must have been, because she’d turned rather frosty herself. Even though he was sure Millie was bound to have thanked Claudia for her gift while she looked round Healing Waves, perhaps he should make more effort next time he bumped into her; show that he could be polite.

  Taking another sip of coffee, Jason looked around, taking in the eclectic nature of the outdoor space. Every piece of furniture was different. The seat of an old bench propped on two-foot-high slices of tree trunks; trestle tables; an old church pew. A couple of steps down from the terrace, the wall that surrounded it was whitewashed. A long shelf had been fitted all along its length, window boxes of herbs dotted here and there, with an eclectic selection of old bar stools pushed up to it, affording a view out to sea. The difference in height meant that the terrace tables still had a view of the sea or the rocks or the harbour, depending on which way you faced. The place was a mishmash, but it worked, the second-hand nature of it fitting in well with the second-hand books.

  He said as much to the woman who collected his empty cup, a woman perhaps in her late fifties, her white-blonde hair in a thick plait draped over one shoulder.

  She smiled at the compliment and perched on the bench opposite him. ‘I’d love to tell you it was by deliberate design, but it was more a case of needs must,’ she said, her soft Cornish accent as friendly as her face. ‘Adding the café cost so much more than we’d expected! Fancy coffee machine, cutlery, crockery, cake stands, fridges… Posh outdoor furniture was a step too far. But Sarah’s a whizz with DIY. We had a garage full of old stuff she’d kept “meaning to do something with” one day.’ She made quotation marks in the air as she spoke. ‘So, she started drilling and sanding and painting. Word got around that we were resurrecting a wooden graveyard, and people donated, too.’

 

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