Christmas at the Cornish Café. Phillipa Ashley
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feel. I haven’t eaten or drunk much and I’ve been running on adrenaline and excitement since six o’clock this morning.
It’s weird to sit in the cafe with the staff working around me, chatting to a guest about how I started the cafe business and Kilhallon, but this is my life now: it’s begun to sink in that I’m in charge and living my dream, even if that dream is harder work than I ever imagined. Slowly, the tension ebbs from my body and in between devouring the quiche and the slice of figgy obbin that Nina brings me for dessert, I finally begin to relax and realise that for today, at least, it’s job done.
‘This is a stunning location,’ Kit says, accepting his scone from Nina with a dazzling smile that brings pink to her cheeks. ‘I can see why you and Cal fought so hard to keep it going.’
His remark catches me off guard. It seems a bit funny that he’s talking about Cal as if he knows us already but I suppose Polly’s been gossiping to him and we should make the guests feel like old friends.
‘You wouldn’t believe the difference between the park today and when Cal first showed me round at Easter. The location itself is fantastic. The views are incredible, even when you’ve lived round here all your life, you realise that. The moment I saw the barn that was here, I knew it would make a great cafe.’
‘I chose this place because it had last-minute availability and it was good value, thanks to your opening offers. It also seemed to be out of the way of distractions, apart from the Internet, that is. Sadly, I need that to keep in touch with my agent and editor and I still do a bit of freelance work for my old trade publication.’
‘I knew you must do something creative, even though you said it was boring admin. I thought you’d had enough of work and didn’t want to talk about it.’
‘Yes, and no.’ He grins. ‘Talking of which, I was going to ask you a favour.’
‘Ask away,’ I say, suddenly wondering – I don’t know why – if he’s going to ask me out for a drink or something. No, that would be silly. He would never do that here with everyone around and he’s not here for long and he must have guessed I’m ‘with’ Cal – except I’m not, in any formal sense. We’re not living together or even acting like a couple in public. Which I’m fine with, I remind myself.
‘Miraculously, I’ve managed to get on with my novel pretty well so far this week and I put that down to the peace and tranquillity here. People can hardly drop in and ask me for a pint or to help them fix their bikes. The setting’s inspirational too. Even the storm and the rain. Especially the rain.’
Tell that to the yurt people, I think, although judging by the noise last night, they were having a good time.
‘Glad you’re enjoying it,’ I say, wondering where the conversation is leading and thinking it doesn’t sound like he’s about to ask me on a date.
‘And I know I only intended to stay for two weeks but I was wondering if you might be willing to negotiate on a longer-term let. It’s a long shot because you may be booked up.’
Relief floods through me. ‘I’m not sure. I know Enys is booked at half term but it might be free until then and afterwards, it’s our quiet season so I can probably let you have a discount then.’ I harden my heart, knowing I can’t do him a deal until after half term. ‘How long were you thinking of staying?’ I ask.
‘Until the week before Christmas, if you have the availability.’
‘Christmas!’
He breaks into a grin. ‘Don’t sound so surprised. There are worse places to stay, you know.’
‘I know. Kilhallon’s great but it won’t be cheap … and what about your place in London?’ I say, knowing I’m doing a terrible job of selling the site. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Nina and Shamia watching us from the servery.
‘I’ve a friend who’d be happy looking after my flat. He’s just finished a contract abroad and wants a short-term place to stay in London while he hunts for a new job and his rent will cover my stay here. Plus there are trains, you know, if I can’t face the drive back when I need to go to a meeting.’
‘I didn’t mean to be nosy. Of course, Kilhallon’s perfect for peace and quiet and I’m sure we can come to some arrangement. I’d have to ask Cal, of course.’
‘Of course, if you need to square things with him, as he’s your boss …’
Something in Kit’s tone irritates me and I remind myself that I don’t need Cal’s permission to take a booking from a guest. ‘I’ll check the bookings when I go back to the house. I’ve got the live booking chart on my phone, but the signal’s not great down here.’
Kit puts his hand on my arm to stop me leaping to my feet, not that I could leap, my legs feel wobbly. ‘No rush,’ he says. ‘Later will do and as for the phone signal: that’s another reason for staying here. My agent can’t keep ringing me to ask how the book is going, and no one else can reach me either.’
‘OK. I’ll come round or call you later when I’ve checked, but it should be fine for a long-term let, even if you have to move cottages halfway through.’
‘That won’t bother me. Great. Now that I know I’m staying, I can settle into my novel. It’s a relief, to be honest, I was dreading having to go back to the smoke. There’s something about Kilhallon that really inspires me.’ He flashes me a smile then tips the cider bottle to his lips. He really is very good-looking when he turns on the charm, but I can’t quite fathom him out. When he first arrived, you’d have thought he was furious with the whole world.
He reminds me of Cal a little: one moment sunshine and the next showers, but Cal doesn’t seem to be able to switch the seasons on and off in the same way that Kit does. I’m not sure Cal’s so in control of his climate, and to be honest, I prefer it that way. Cal’s unpredictable in a predictable way, but Kit’s just unpredictable … Oh sod it, he’s only a guest. As long as he doesn’t start wailing the place down and chucking food on the floor like George, he can be as quirky as he likes. More importantly, his money’s as good as anyone else’s and it looks like we’re going to get rather a nice chunk of it.
Our opening long weekend of trading has been exhausting, but that’s way better than having to stand around with nothing to do. My marketing efforts are paying off and word has got round that we’re now up and running. I know a lot of locals will have turned up out of curiosity over the weekend and that we need to work hard to keep them coming back, as well as attracting tourists, but I was so happy to see the cafe buzzing on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. There’s no time to let up, however, and I’ve spent today – Monday – trying to catch up with admin, ordering and planning.
I must admit I could have quite happily collapsed in my cottage this evening, but tonight is another important occasion for Kilhallon. We’ve opened Demelza’s especially to host a meeting of the St Trenyan Harbour Lights committee. The Harbour Lights Festival, held on the last Friday in November, attracts thousands of people to the village, both from Cornwall and further afield at a time of year when St Trenyan really needs a boost.
‘I still can’t believe Kit Bannen wants to stay here for so long,’ Cal says to me midway through laying out mince pie cookies on a table in the cafe.
‘Until the week before Christmas, according to Kit. I meant to tell you sooner, but we’ve both been so busy with work that I forgot. The resort’s your job, of course, but I checked out the booking calendar while you were at the wholesalers and I’ve already said he can have Enys Cottage. We had another couple booked into Enys for half term but it’s easier to upgrade them to Penvenen than move Kit out just for a week. Was that OK?’
‘I guess so but this longer-term stay will cost him a lot of money. Why does he want to hunker down