Chapter 12
12
BABS
‘It’s breathtaking,’ Babs enthused as they walked along the harbour front, past the small beach where there were already a few children playing in the sand whilst their parents chatted. Rows of shops along the front were open, selling a selection of items from souvenirs, surf equipment and clothes to confectionary and pasties. Granite-grey and white houses scattered the cliffs rising up from the harbour on the left, and a long, narrow cobbled road wound up the hill into the town.
‘There’s the café the estate agent told us about.’ Babs pointed to a little café with a cobalt-blue square-paned bay window and wooden door. Above the door was a hanging sign with the words:
Moira’s Café
written above a picture of a steaming cup. It looked very welcoming.
They crossed the road over to the café, Babs in the lead. A bell tinkled as she pushed open the door and a woman carrying a tray over to a couple sitting in the corner glanced over and smiled at them. ‘Hiya. Grab a table and I’ll be with you in a minute.’
‘What a pretty café,’ Dee said as they made their way over to an empty table in the bay window. All the tables were covered in white tablecloths, with a delicate glass bud vase with one white rose in it. Glancing over at the other tables she saw that people were drinking out of pretty china cups, not small cups, but big enough to hold a decent cup of tea or coffee, and interestingly, they were in several different patterns and colours. It was unusual, but she liked it.
‘Now what can I get you both?’ The woman, who looked to be in her early fifties, beamed at them. According to the name badge on her top she was called Andi. She was wearing a short-sleeved top which revealed a blue rose tattoo on her left upper arm. The colour had faded a bit so she must have had it done when she was quite a lot younger, but it was still very clear.
‘The estate agent recommended this café to us, and no wonder, it’s really pretty,’ Dee said.
‘Thanks. I think so too. I’ve worked here a couple of years now. Moira,’ she nodded at the slightly older dark-haired woman at the till, ‘is the owner. She and her husband used to run it between them but he passed away a couple of years ago.’
Babs looked over at the older woman. She had a friendly face and was joking with one of the customers.
‘That must have been hard for her,’ Babs said sympathetically.
‘It was but as she said, running the café helps keep her busy, less time to think.’ Andi smiled. ‘Now what would you like, ladies? We’ve got a selection of home-made cakes, scones and sandwiches, and we serve tea, coffee or various herbal teas.’ She handed them the menu. ‘Can I get you a drink while you decide?’
Dee nodded. ‘Tea for me, please.’
‘And me,’ Babs added.
The two friends studied the menu whilst Andi went back to get the teas. She and Moira seemed to be the only ones serving and the café was half full, even though it was only mid-morning. They must be run off their feet at lunchtime, Babs thought. She glanced at the menu.
‘Is it too early for a cream scone, do you think?’ Babs asked.
‘We’re on holiday so you can have whatever you want whenever you want,’ Dee told her. ‘I think I’ll go for a couple of toasted crumpets though.’
When Andi came back with the teas, they gave her their order, which she wrote down on her notepad. ‘It’ll be a few minutes.’
‘No rush,’ Dee told her.
As they both sipped their drinks, glancing out of the window at the passers-by, Babs noticed how relaxed Dee looked. More relaxed than she’d seen her for a long time.
‘It’s nice here. I think we chose the right place for our holiday, don’t you?’ Dee’s eyes rested on Babs then she frowned. ‘Is everything all right? Have you heard from Geoff again?’
‘No, but Lennon phoned me. He’s going to speak to his dad today, try and talk some sense into him.’
Dee reached over and patted Babs’ hand. ‘It will all work out. Geoff won’t sell the house and go to Spain without you. He’s bluffing.’
‘Well, I’m calling his bluff. Let’s see who holds out the longest,’ Babs replied. Her eyes lit up when she saw Andi coming towards them with their order on a tray. ‘Wow, that scone looks amazing!’
‘Enjoy,’ Andi said taking the plate containing a large fruit scone, knife and small pots of cream and jam, and placing it in front of Babs. ‘Where are you both staying?’
‘Sunset View,’ Dee replied as Andi placed the crumpets and butter in front of Dee.
‘Ah, I know it! That row of cottages is lovely. You’re near Edna, she’s at Primrose Cottage, a really nice lady. I know her quite well. She often pops in for a cuppa and a chat.’
‘Oh, we’ve met her cat, Snowy. He paid us a visit this morning,’ Babs said as she sliced her scone in half and started to butter it. ‘He was all over Dee.’
Andi nodded. ‘He’s a sweetie, and he’s not one to wander far. Edna spoils him.’
They both tucked into their breakfast. Then asked for another drink to wash it down.
Andi brought some leaflets with her when she returned with their second cups of tea. ‘I thought you might want to look at these, some local places of interest. There’s a good bus service to them if you don’t have a car.’ She put the leaflets on the table.
‘How kind of you, thank you.’ Dee smiled at her.
They both looked through the leaflets, deciding that they fancied visiting the art gallery which showcased the work of local artists, the house where a famous writer had once lived, and the Maritime museum, as well as a trip to St Michael’s Mount. There was also a guide to local cliff walks.
‘Also, if you’re still around, there’s a big garden party at the Manor on Saturday afternoon, to raise much-needed funds for the new Artists’ Studios – the money will go towards the conversion of an old warehouse into individual working spaces for local artists and craftsmen,’ Andi told them as she came to collect their plates. ‘There’s plenty of stalls, an auction and Simon Hemingford, from What’s it Worth? is officially opening it and giving free valuations if people want to bring their “family heirlooms”.’
‘Simon Hemingford! I think he’s gorgeous. It’s a shame we didn’t know, Dee! We could have brought some things down with us. I’ve got this lamp that was my mother’s, and I always thought it was worth something, but Geoff scoffed at the idea.’ Babs finished her drink and put the cup on the saucer. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Yes, lets, it sounds fun,’ Dee agreed. ‘I could ask him about the brooch my grandmother left me, I have a photo of it on my phone.’ She’d been meaning to get it valued for years.
‘There’s a ￡5 entrance fee, which goes towards the conversions,’ Andi told them. ‘It starts at one thirty. I’m going to pop in for a couple of hours.’
‘Thanks for the tip. It sounds interesting,’ Dee replied.
‘You’re welcome. Enjoy your holiday.’
‘How about we go to the art gallery today then drive to St Michael’s Mount tomorrow?’ Dee suggested as Andi walked away.
‘Sounds good to me,’ Babs agreed. ‘We can have a paddle in the sea too. Good job we’re both wearing shorts.’
They strolled up the hill to the art gallery. ‘I wouldn’t mind coming down here again. Maybe Annabel and Gareth would like to bring Hallie down, too, she’d love it here. Although they both prefer to go abroad nowadays.’
Babs noticed that Dee didn’t mention Nigel coming with her; she knew he wouldn’t. She couldn’t remember the last time Dee and Nigel had gone away together. He was always too busy working, although he always had time to go off on a golfing holiday with his friends. She’d never known what Dee saw in Nigel but there was no accounting for taste where love was concerned. Though it had always seemed to Babs that Nigel hadn’t really loved Dee, not in the way he should, but had married her because he’d thought she was good wife material.
The art gallery was up a little side street. You would have walked past it if you hadn’t known it was there. According to the sign inside the doorway, all the paintings were done by local artists. There were the inevitable beach scenes, ships on a stormy sea, and a few abstracts. Babs was standing in front of a vivid abstract painting, trying to make out what it was supposed to be, when she was interrupted by a phone call from Molly. ‘Mum, you need to come home. Dad says he’s got a viewer coming tomorrow!’
What? ‘How dare he!’ Babs said, then lowered her voice when she noticed people staring at her. ‘He knows how I feel about it and he’s still gone ahead and done it.’
‘I’ve tried talking to him, Mum, but he won’t listen. You’ve got to come home and talk some sense into him.’
Babs glanced around. Dee was mesmerised by a painting of a lighthouse at night-time, its beam of light slicing through the dark night sky, guiding a ship to safety.
‘I love that one,’ Dee exclaimed.
‘Thank you.’
A man was standing behind them, his long silver-grey hair thick and a bit wild-looking. He was suntanned and had deep blue eyes and a small moustache. Dee’s eyes widened and Babs heard her exclaim, ‘Kenny Roscoe!’