The Cornish Beach Hut Café

Chapter 42

42

The Deck Gallery, St Aidan

Secrets and pies

Monday

T here are times when life gets so busy you don’t have time to worry about the small stuff. Not that people calling us an item was tiny. When Nell’s message first came, I was beside myself, but with two Hideaway hen parties with activities to deliver, most mornings at Kit’s, baking for the hotel, and a lot of Kit’s couples, not to mention St Aidan residents, ending up on my deck, I’ve been too flat out to worry about technicalities like my status. As for the bits in between with Kit, they’ve been like the buttercream swirl on the cupcake. The toffee brittle sprinkles on top of one of my desserts. The flake in the ninety-nine. If I’d never had it, I might not have missed it. But now I have it’s so delish, I’m determined to devour it.

As for any doubts, I refuse to spoil it by overthinking. It may be atypical, it may be unconventional, but when you stop to think about it, it’s completely in line with the minute-by-minute way I’ve been living for the last four years, so it’s no surprise how easily I’ve slipped into it. It might not be for everyone, but if it’s working for Kit and me, why knock it?

It’s a measure of how full-on things are that it takes a couple of weeks to dawn on me that I haven’t caught up with Plum lately. Whatever Kit and I said that day at the studio about not giving a damn about other people, as far as our non-relationship goes we’re still very much ‘under wraps’. We eat, take Shadow along the beach, then chill at mine or his. Thanks to the hotel being busier, we haven’t even been along for another pool swim.

I must still be slightly uneasy about Plum’s exposure to the local gossip factory, because not only have I brought Clemmie with me for backup today, but as she, Shadow, Arnie, Bud and I make our way up the hill to Plum’s gallery, the bag of apricot crumble slices I’m carrying is almost as big as Clemmie’s two-baby changing bag.

As I help Clemmie through the big glass doors with the double pushchair, I hold up my carrier and whisper to her, ‘This is guilt cake.’

Clemmie shushes me. ‘You have nothing to feel bad about.’ She lets a wriggling Bud out of her seat straps. ‘It looks like Plum’s out on the deck in the sun. If I take this one, can you follow with Arnie?’

As we stroll the length of the echoey gallery and burst out onto the deck Plum looks up at us from her laptop. ‘Hello, stranger. It’s ages since we saw you in town, Floss.’

I couldn’t have hoped for a better opening. ‘I’ve been waiting for the skinny-dipping scandal to die down.’

She lets out a snort. ‘You taking the hit for your mum has pushed your swimming street-cred through the roof, which is great news for the sea pool. Has Suze recovered from the shock yet?’

This is still perplexing me. ‘She’d been quiet for a while before that. Then, when Sophie and I tried to ask her about when we were kids, she lost the plot and rushed off and since then she’s been even more elusive.’ I give a sniff. ‘If this is how she’s going to be, we’ll have to see what the other mermaids’ mums remember about our childhood.’

Plum frowns. ‘We were at the other end of town from you, but I’ll definitely ask. Don’t get your hopes up though because my mum has always been vague on details.’ Plum’s parents still live in the same Victorian house that seemed so cavernous when we were kids. The row of fishermen’s cottages where we lived were like dolls’ houses in comparison.

Clemmie’s holding Bud on her knee. ‘As we were in the same row my mum might know more, but she’s on an extended bird-watching tour in Puerto Rico. We can certainly ask when she gets back.’

Plum smiles. ‘So how’s the romance going?’

My heart skips a beat and it’s only when Clemmie jumps in that I realise she’s talking about Mum’s not mine.

‘It’s a wise move for you and Sophie to step back and give them space.’

Plum nods. ‘However much you love your mum you’d be very lucky to love whoever she chooses as her new partner. And the same goes for Rye with David.’

There’s a cough in the doorway. ‘Am I too late to join in with this?’

We turn round to see Rye in faded jeans and a T-shirt, running his fingers through his already perfect hair.

Plum’s practically purring. ‘Rye had a spare half-hour, so he’s come to see some pictures of sculptures on my laptop.’

It’s not lost on us; she could have just as easily taken her laptop to his office, and as he’s here as himself, not a fireman or a hotel manager, this is as close to a date as Plum’s got yet.

Clemmie smiles. ‘We were saying that grown-up kids rarely take to their parents’ new squeezes.’

I grin at him. ‘It’s reassuring to know we’re normal.’

Plum smiles at me. ‘I take it the other romance in the family is all a storm in the St Aidan grapevine teacup?’

Shit! ‘You’re absolutely right.’

Clemmie jiggles Bud on her knee. ‘Whatever the word on the street, our Floss is still determined to stay free as a bird.’

Interventions like this are why I wanted her with me. ‘I’m St Aidan’s eternally single albatross, destined to fly but never to land.’ I give Shadow a nudge with my foot. ‘We’ve promised to be soulmates for ever, haven’t we, Shadow?’

Plum sits back in her chair. ‘Talking of which, you know Dillon’s here later this month?’

I knew this was coming, just not this soon. ‘He said he’d be over but not when.’

Plum purses her lips. ‘He wanted it to be a surprise, but with so much going on, I thought I’d better warn you.’

I appreciate that she has, and it’s only fair to explain to Rye. ‘Dillon is Plum’s brother. He and I used to be together.’

He nods slowly and his eyes narrow. ‘I know who Dillon is.’

Plum reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. ‘Don’t play it down, Floss, you two were an institution.’

I look straight at Rye. ‘We’re still good friends.’

Plum’s looking at me searchingly. ‘We all love that you still care enough to chat most days.’

We barely message anymore, but I’d rather not correct her. And however much this is making me wince, I’d rather it was out in the open than hidden.

Clemmie’s eyebrow goes up. ‘As if we mermaids would have it any other way!’

I seize my chance to move this on. ‘You must have heard about the mermaids, Rye?’

He grins. ‘St Aidan local knowledge is my specialist subject. Would you like me to tell you their names?’

We’re all working out how to say we might be okay without the full list when the silence is broken by what sounds like a cross between a tidal wave hitting the shore and an elephant’s trumpet.

Rye’s eyes open wide. ‘What the heck was that?’

Plum holds her nose. ‘Time for a clean nappy, Bud?’

Clemmie reaches for the rucksack. ‘That’ll be a head-to-toe poonami. If you come with me, Plum, we can take them up to the bathroom and change Arnie at the same time.’

Plum’s on her feet. ‘If you don’t mind making the coffee, Floss?’

Rye’s up too. ‘Did I see a machine?’

‘Americanos all round?’ As we move inside and head behind the gallery counter it’s obvious I can’t compete with Rye’s barista skills, so I pass him the cups, and put some saucers on a tray. I’m counting out plates for the cake when he turns to me.

‘You do know how much Kit likes you?’

I cover my horror with a joke. ‘I should hope he does, the number of Bakewell blondies I make him.’

‘It’s way more than that.’ Rye gives me a hard stare. ‘It’s the real deal for Kit. Always has been.’

My stomach has dropped like a high-speed lift with each successive revelation, but I know to take my time with this. ‘Excuse me?’

‘He’s been head over heels ever since you moved here.’ Rye looks at me more closely. ‘You must have noticed, the guy practically took up residence on your deck. You surely didn’t think begging for ice cream and cake at all hours was him just being hungry?’

I’m opening and closing my mouth, trying to take it in. ‘But that was months ago! And he blamed the cake on you!’ My mind races forward, and I finally land on a sensible argument. ‘Kit and I talked about it and we both agreed – neither of us is up for commitment when we’re still picking up the pieces after previous relationships.’

Rye shrugs. ‘It’s a big risk telling someone you care until you know they do too. But if you don’t feel the same it’s best that you know – there are definitely feelings on his side.’

How can I have got this so wrong when I’ve checked so often? Even if a tiny part of what Rye says is true, I can’t leave things as they are. ‘Kit getting hurt is the last thing I want.’

Rye gives a grimace. ‘I’m pleased you think that too. I hope you don’t mind me saying?’

This is the funny thing with St Aidan – every time I think things are going right, something happens and the bottom drops out of my life. I’m shaking my head. ‘Not at all. I’m very grateful you told me.’

I put down the spoons I’m holding, whistle for Shadow and look at Rye. ‘I need to go.’ There are things I need to do. Places I need to be. Worse still, my chest feels like it’s imploding. ‘The milk is in the fridge under the counter. Can you say goodbye to Clemmie and Plum for me?’

This is all a terrible mess. There’s only one way to make it right, and I have to do it as soon as I can.