‘Comes with age,’ Sarah grumbled, making Claudia smile for the first time that day. ‘What will you do with yourself this afternoon?’
‘Hide under my duvet and never come out?’
‘Go for a long walk, Claudia,’ Evelyn told her. ‘Blow away the cobwebs. Paddle. You know the drill. We’re away at a friend’s in St Ives tonight, but phone us if you need to talk, okay?’
Claudia took their hands. ‘I will. Thank you both.’
‘You’re welcome, honey.’ Sarah stood. ‘Let’s get you home so you can do what Aunty Evie prescribed.’
Claudia did as she was told. The walk and the scenery helped. In a quiet cove, she drew a caricature of Ollie Barton and watched as the tide came in and washed him away. Then she went home and really did crawl under her duvet, her head pounding, her stomach growling with hunger but too nauseated to eat.
She managed to answer the phone to Tanya, who wanted to come over, but Claudia begged her not to. Tanya instructed her to eat some toast and even waited on the line while Claudia made some. When she could hear Claudia nibbling it, she reassured her that she’d done a sterling job in the interview, and now all they could do was wait and see.
Predictably, Claudia slept badly and was up early. Steeling herself, she listened to the interview. It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought, but she resented that she’d had to do it at all, and she wasn’t convinced she’d got her points across.
She dreaded opening up Healing Waves, and that dread was well-founded. Any locals who came in only wanted to talk about the interview, and Claudia thought she detected restrained frostiness in their manner – but perhaps she was becoming paranoid.
Closing the shop at the end of the day was an enormous relief. Upstairs, she fed Pudding, watched him shoot through his cat flap for a wander, and settled down with her favourite comfort food – a tub of Page Turner tomato soup.
She’d just finished it when Pudding shot back in, the cat flap clattering loudly enough to startle her and make her drop her spoon.
‘Hey, Pudding. What’s up?’ Taking in the cat’s bedraggled appearance, she reached down to pet him, then frowned. ‘You’re wet through! Is it raining?’
That cat hates the rain. Must’ve been caught out by a shower.
But when she crossed to the window, the sky was still blue. There was, however, an odd smell in the flat.
Claudia sniffed the hand she’d used to stroke her pet. Very strong, vaguely familiar. What was it? Crossing to where Pudding had sprawled across the doormat, tentatively thinking about washing himself but not as enthusiastic as usual, Claudia dropped to her knees and sniffed.
White spirit! How on earth…?
‘Pudding! Don’t you dare lick!’
She reached for her phone. Eight o’clock at night? Her sinking heart told her she’d get an answer-phone message giving her an emergency out-of-hours number for the vet, and she was right. She redialled. Come on. Come on. A polite woman answered, and Claudia babbled out her fears. The address the woman gave her to take her pet to was at least twenty miles away.
‘Pudding! Don’t lick!’ Claudia shrieked at her panicked cat, who clearly didn’t like the smell or taste of what was covering his fur.
Taking pity, the woman said, ‘Wait a moment, dear. I’ll bring the vet to the phone.’
The vet was kindly and gave her detailed advice which she scribbled down with a shaking hand. When he’d wished her luck and clicked off, Claudia looked at the list in despair. She needed help, but Sarah and Evelyn were away for the night, and Tanya was too far away.
She swallowed her pride and dialled.
Chapter Seventeen
When Millie answered her mobile, Jason could hear Claudia’s panicked voice from across the room.
‘Dad, it’s Claudia. Yours isn’t ringing. It’s urgent!’
Picturing his own phone lying uncharged upstairs, Jason snatched Millie’s from her. ‘Claudia. Are you alright?’
Three minutes later, all he knew was that Claudia was hysterical but trying hard not to be, something had happened to Pudding, and she needed two extra pairs of hands.
The old Jason might have wasted precious time trying to get a straight answer out of her. But this newly-budding Jason allowed his gut instinct to kick in and tell him all that mattered was that they were needed right away. He spent all of five seconds thinking about the last time they’d spoken, when he’d treated her so badly. And then…
‘Millie. Get something on your feet. I’ll explain on the way.’
But as they sped down the hill and along the beach road, parking haphazardly outside Claudia’s, he realised he didn’t know enough to explain.
They raced up to the flat, where Claudia was holding Pudding tightly wrapped in a towel, her grip allowing him no room to move. Pudding didn’t like it – his lip curled back, baring needle-like teeth.
Jason and Claudia shared a brief look, both acknowledging there were things to be said between them, before Claudia said, ‘I’ve run the bath. Millie, can you fetch sunflower oil from the kitchen?’
As if that makes everything clear.
‘On it.’ It was a sign of Millie’s faith in Claudia that she didn’t blink at the request but simply did as she was told.
Jason shook his head. ‘Claudia, I know you and Millie probably communicate by some kind of psychic phenomenon, but I need help. Care to explain?’
As Pudding strained against her hold on him, Claudia took a deep breath. ‘He came in wet through. It’s white spirit. I rang the vet, but I’d have to drive miles, and they said time is of the essence, and there’s not much they can do that we can’t. We need to bathe him and shampoo it off because it could burn him, then we have to coat him in oil to soothe his skin, then wash the excess oil off. Then if he licks his fur, it’ll be oil and not the spirit, so it’ll soothe his stomach if he’s swallowed some.’ Her eyes were shining wet, and her voice trembled. ‘Jason, I can’t do this on my own.’
His heart melting at her distress, Jason said, ‘No. Of course not.’
He gave her what he hoped was a confident smile, but when he looked at Pudding, all confidence vanished. He might not know much about cats, but he did know they hated water. He doubted they liked to be slathered in cooking oil, either.
Pulling off his sweater, he followed Claudia into the bathroom, Millie trailing after them with the oil.
When Claudia unwrapped Pudding from the ruined towel and held him over the water, his love for his mistress went AWOL. He writhed and squirmed, murder in his eyes.
‘Don’t let him hover like that,’ Jason said, sounding more authoritative than he felt. ‘Just get him in.’
Claudia lowered the feline into the water, where he spat and twisted and clawed. A bright red scratch appeared on Claudia’s arm before Jason could move in beside her to help hold the cat firm.
‘Millie, use a jug to pour water over him while we hold him,’ he said. ‘Don’t let the water get in his eyes if you can help it – his head isn’t wet with the spirit, just his body.’
Millie did as she was told, but it only enraged the poor cat.
‘I don’t suppose you have any gardening gloves?’ Jason asked Claudia in desperation.
‘I don’t have a garden, Jason.’
‘I have an idea!’ Millie shot off and returned a few moments later with two pairs of industrial-strength rubber gloves, helping them both pull them on and suffering a scratch or two herself in the process.
‘Thanks. Right. Shampoo.’ As they did their best to shampoo the cat, Jason grumbled, ‘Why the hell couldn’t you have a dog? They don’t mind this kind of thing.’
He was rewarded with a nervous chuckle from Claudia as they worked, kneeling on the sopping bathroom floor side by side.
Millie washed off the shampoo with the jug, then they were onto the oil stage, Claudia smoothing it into the cat’s soaking wet fur while Jason tried to hold him fast.
‘Thanks for the gloves,’ he said, casting a grateful glanc
e at his daughter. ‘Where did you find them?’
‘The utility room at the back of the shop.’
Jason smiled, marvelling at his daughter’s presence of mind.
They washed off the oil as best they could, the cat hissing and spitting, and Claudia ran a wide-toothed comb through Pudding’s fur before wrapping him in the clean towel Millie handed her.
Pudding immediately calmed down, huddling into Claudia’s arms, but there was no purring. Claudia carried him into the lounge, where she and Jason stared in amazement at the sheets and towels covering every upholstered surface.
‘I didn’t know where he’d want to sit, and I was worried he’d ruin your furniture with the oil,’ Millie explained. ‘I hope you don’t mind me going into your bedroom to get them.’
Claudia beamed. ‘Of course not. Thank you, Millie. You’re a star!’
Millie smiled, pleased at the praise, and once more Jason marvelled at the sullen teenager he’d brought with him to Cornwall, usually reluctant to do anything she was asked to, dealing with tonight’s situation so capably and calmly.
Claudia placed Pudding in his favourite armchair where he cowered for a moment, sodden and oily, before streaking past them and rattling his way through the bead curtains. When they went after him, he was nowhere to be seen.
Claudia looked under the bed. ‘He’s right at the back. It’s cold back there. He’s scared of us!’ A sob caught in Claudia’s throat as all three of them peered under the bed, Pudding’s eyes shining mutinously out at them from the dark.
Jason couldn’t bear Claudia’s misery. Bloody cat. Not that I can blame him. Standing, he strode into the lounge and lit the fire.
‘Dad, what are you doing? It’s summer!’
‘Find some tuna, Millie, and put some in Pudding’s bowl.’
Jason’s limited knowledge of cats stretched to them liking warmth and fish. He set Pudding’s basket in front of the fire, then took the bowl of tuna Millie handed him.
In the bedroom, Claudia was still trying to coax her pet from his cold, dark hiding place.
‘He’ll come out when he’s ready.’ Jason set the tuna under the strands of beads so they’d hear him, then turned to Claudia. She looked shaken, and sick with worry. ‘Don’t you have some foul-tasting herbal tea to soothe healers of idiotic cats?’ he asked brightly.
With a wobbly smile, Claudia took milk from the fridge. ‘Hot chocolate with marshmallows?’
Millie clapped her hands, while Jason raised a surprised eyebrow. He noted it was goats’ milk, but you couldn’t have it all.
The milk was heating when they heard the rattle of the bead curtain. Jason pounced, lifting the startled Pudding into his arms and holding him close to his chest. Gently, he carried him to his basket, while Millie fetched the tuna and put it under his nose.
Accepting he was beaten, or at least deciding that tuna and a fire were a better bet than the coldest spot in the flat, Pudding deigned to nibble on the tuna and eventually, under Jason’s careful coaxing, curled into his basket.
Jason’s heart went out to the animal. He always looked a sight, what with his mottled colours, but now he just looked a mess. Jason knew cats were fastidious about grooming, but he couldn’t see how Pudding would look up to much ever again with his fur in this state.
‘Poor lad,’ he murmured. ‘You’ll be okay. Claudia’ll see to it.’
When he stood, his daughter and Claudia were staring at him. ‘What?’ he said defensively. ‘He’s been through the wringer. I can sympathise, can’t I?’
‘So it seems.’ Claudia handed him his hot chocolate, which he sipped gratefully. A bit goaty, but just what they needed.
Millie pointed at them. ‘You two are such a mess!’
She wasn’t wrong. They were both bleeding, their clothes were drenched from Pudding’s furious splashing, and Jason’s T-shirt was ruined with oil from carrying him to the fire.
‘I’ll buy you a new shirt,’ Claudia said miserably.
‘You’ll do no such thing. Friends help each other out. I never liked this one, anyway.’
Claudia glanced over at Millie. ‘He thinks I’ll get him something tie-dyed, doesn’t he?’
‘Yup.’ They grinned at each other, their obvious companionship warming Jason’s heart. It was good to see Millie smile, even at her dad’s wardrobe misfortunes.
As they leaned against the kitchen counters, none of them wanting to go too near Pudding in case they spooked him, Millie disappeared in the direction of the bathroom, returning with cotton buds and a small bottle, and began to dab the liquid onto Claudia’s wounds.
Jason turned up his nose. ‘What’s that? It stinks.’
‘Tea-tree oil. You’re next. Hold still. Cat scratches can be nasty.’
‘You don’t have to tell me that!’ He glared at Claudia. ‘Don’t you have antiseptic cream like a normal person?’
‘Tea-tree oil is a natural antiseptic, Jason. It’ll go right into the scratches. Better than a cream.’
Jason couldn’t argue with that, and it didn’t sting as much as the liquid antiseptic he remembered his mother sloshing on his scraped knees as a boy.
‘Great. Now I’m wet, oily and I stink.’
Claudia put down her mug, crossed over to him, laid a hand on one cheek and a kiss on the other. She did the same for Millie. ‘I couldn’t have managed without you both. Thank you. Pudding thanks you, too.’
Jason glanced at the traumatised cat. ‘I doubt it, but we accept.’ He finished his drink. ‘We should go. He might settle better with just you here.’
He hesitated at the door. There was so much more to say – an apology from him for Monday, for certain – but he couldn’t tackle that with his daughter in tow.
As they stepped outside, Claudia pulled Millie back and Jason heard her whisper, ‘What’s his chest size?’
Pretending he hadn’t heard, he continued down the steps. Heaven knew what he’d end up with. But maybe he’d wear it anyway.
Jason called at Claudia’s flat just after eight the following morning – too early, but he had to get to work long before she opened the shop, and there were things he’d wanted to do. Things he needed to say.
She opened the door dressed in yoga shorts and a vest tee, her hair held away from her face by a fabric band. The sight of her lightly tanned legs and sun-kissed shoulders sent a primal punch to his gut.
‘Jason!’
‘Hi. Sorry. I know it’s early.’
‘No problem. I just finished yoga. Come on in.’
‘Thanks. How’s the patient?’
Pudding was curled in his favourite armchair on an old fleece blanket. He still looked a dreadful mess, his fur clinging in some places and spiking in others, like a punk cat.
‘Quiet. Not eating much.’
‘Probably still has a gutful of oil from trying to clean his fur. You’ll be tempting him with morsels of fresh fish and chicken, I imagine?’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t let him get too used to that,’ Jason warned.
‘Don’t worry. We’ve already talked about it.’
Of course they have.
‘I found the white spirit and disposed of it,’ he told her. ‘Decorators at a house over the road had left it near the bin, and the lid wasn’t screwed on properly. I’m guessing Pudding brushed against it and knocked it over himself. I caught the builders just now and asked them to be more careful. They said they were sorry.’ Jason bent to talk to the cat. ‘Stay away from bins and toxic substances, mister. And I’m not sure you should be crossing that beach road. It gets busy.’
Pudding merely glared, but Claudia rewarded Jason with a warm smile. ‘You’re fond of him.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far. I just don’t fancy going through a process like last night’s again.’
Her lips twitched. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘Claudia…’ Get it done, Jason. ‘I owe you an apology over what I said on Monday. It’s late, I know, but I was worried I’d only
make things worse.’ He sighed. ‘It wasn’t just about what I shared with you. The fact is, I haven’t spoken so closely with anyone in years. Gemma and I lost that connection a long time ago, and my mates… You know what men are like. A chat down the pub about football and kids. Politics if you’re feeling brave. We don’t share our innermost feelings. After Sunday night, I felt uncomfortable, but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.’
Claudia placed her hand on his, affecting his senses more than the light touch should.
‘I was tired, so I may have been a bit quick to respond,’ she admitted. ‘But I wasn’t uncomfortable about sharing with you. I trust you.’ She allowed that small dig to sink in.
‘I trust you, too. It wasn’t my intention to suggest I didn’t. I just wanted to be clear.’ He sighed. ‘And Claudia… Millie read about your interview on social media. She’s listened to it. So have I.’
Claudia shoulders dropped. ‘I didn’t want to go on there, but…’ She quickly summed up the last-minute invitation from Ollie Barton.
‘You had no choice,’ he agreed. ‘And you handled it well, considering what he was trying to do.’
‘Thanks. I just wish it would all die down.’ Claudia sighed, and his heart went out to her. ‘It could be worse. I could’ve had some solicitor’s letter accusing me of slander instead.’
Jason cocked his head to one side. ‘Yes. Interesting, isn’t it, that they haven’t done that.’
‘I suppose it’s all hearsay. They can’t prove beyond a doubt exactly what was said and by whom.’
‘Or they’re worried that if they take an official step like that, they’d have to prove that any accusation of incompetence is slander and not the truth, which they’d struggle to do.’ Glancing at his watch, with regret in his voice he said, ‘I need to go.’
The careworn look on Claudia’s face tugged at him, and without thinking, he bent to kiss her cheek.
Surprise replaced worry on her face. ‘Thank you, Jason.’ She pointed at her forlorn cat. ‘For last night. For talking to the builders. For the apology. For caring about the Hester’s thing.’ As she saw him out, she gave him a warm smile of gratitude.
The Little Shop in Cornwall: A heartwarming and feel good beach read Page 22