The Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Cressida McLaughlin
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had thought of everything. Pete had improved the tiny toilet behind the stairs, had ensured the layout on the top deck – where the majority of customers would sit – had as much seating as possible without it seeming crowded. Marmite had his own crate below the driver’s seat in the cab, so when Charlie brought him on board he wouldn’t stray into the kitchen. An old-style bell-pull had been installed – replacing the more modern buttons – so that guests could get Charlie’s attention from anywhere on the bus.
She had even got an old-fashioned ticket machine so that customers could go away with a reminder of their visit on board The Cornish Cream Tea Bus. It had been an expensive renovation, but worth every penny. Now all she had to do was make a success of it.
She began snapping photos, adding them to her Instagram story, all with her custom hashtag: #CornishCreamTea BusLaunch. She arranged the cakes and scones and took photos of them on their stands, snapped an arty shot of the sea out of the windscreen, and another of the row of gleaming mugs stacked on top of the coffee machine. She had two different tea options on her menu: one was simply scones, cream and jam – the traditional Cornish cream tea – and one that was more like a full afternoon tea, with sandwiches to start, mini cakes and puddings, and then the scones to finish.
‘Hello?’ a voice called, as she was putting the cheddar and red onion scones in the oven to heat up. ‘Can we come aboard?’
Charlie recognized the woman, who had platinum hair cinched in waves around her face, from the bed and breakfast. She had obviously been paying more attention than Charlie had thought. She was accompanied by a man whose skin was as dark as hers was pale, his deep brown eyes warm with kindness.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Welcome to The Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Take a seat, either down here, or there’s lots of space upstairs. I’ll come and take your order in a moment.’
The woman looked around approvingly. ‘I must say, it looks wonderful.’
‘Thank you,’ Charlie beamed. ‘I’m very happy with it.’
‘Almost puts our dining room to shame,’ the man added, reaching up and pulling on the cord running round the top of the windows. A clear bell sounded, and he laughed even as he apologized. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I haven’t seen one of these in years.’
Charlie waved away his apology. ‘It’s very tempting to pull it – I’m going to have to get used to false alarms. Maybe I need a sign explaining what the cord is for.’
‘It’s so nostalgic,’ the woman added. ‘What made you want to do this? A café on a bus?’
Charlie leaned against the counter. ‘The bus was my uncle’s. He ran tours on it, but he died earlier this year. He left me Gertie – the bus – and I’m a baker, so while I was happy to have it, I knew I couldn’t just take over from him. But cakes, afternoon tea … I thought I could combine the two.’
‘It’s ingenuous,’ the man said. ‘We went for a traditional style for the B&B, but after four years … well, I wonder if we need some sort of overhaul?’ He looked at his wife. ‘Do something a bit different?’
She nodded, her smile slipping. ‘We haven’t even introduced ourselves. I’m Stella, and this is Anton. You’re staying with Juliette, aren’t you?’
‘That’s right. I’m Charlie. Juliette invited me here for a holiday. This …’ She spread her arms wide, laughing self-consciously. ‘I’m not that great at taking time off, and I can always drive the bus home again. But I thought that, while I’m here, Porthgolow could do with a bit of brightening up.’
The vigorous nods from Stella and Anton suggested that they agreed with her.
An hour later and Gertie was a hive of activity. Paul and Amanda had brought Jonah, and their two daughters Flora and Jem, and had commandeered one of the tables downstairs, which meant that every time a new customer appeared, Jonah was able to regale them with facts about the bus – both what Charlie had told him after extensive interrogation, and what he already seemed to have in his young, encyclopaedic mind. Charlie and Juliette tried not to giggle while they frothed cappuccinos and prepared cream teas. Even though it was only half past ten, her signature Cornish cream tea was destined to be the most popular item on the menu.
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