Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

The News Building

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in four e-serial parts in 2020

Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2020

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020.

Cover illustration © May Van Millingen

Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008333478

Ebook Edition © 2020 ISBN: 9780008333508

Version: 2020-03-18

Dedication

To the BookCampers

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Part One: All You Knead Is Love

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Part Two: Beauty and the Yeast

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Part Three: My Tart Will Go On

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Part Four: Muffin Compares To You

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Cressida McLaughlin

About the Publisher

Part One

Chapter One

Delilah Forest crested the ridge of the hill, looked down at the picture-postcard village of Porthgolow, its beach alive with colour and movement that cut through the sombreness of the grey day, and decided that fate had brought her here.

Her old Volvo made a noise that she was sure wasn’t healthy, so she lifted her foot off the brake pedal and sped up, hoping she was about to receive a welcome as warm as the pillar-box hue of her cousin Charlie’s bus.

The Cornish Cream Tea Bus. She had laughed when her mum, Tabitha, had told her about it. ‘You’ll never guess what Charlie’s gone and done, Lila,’ she’d said, one day last spring. ‘Started up some café on Hal’s old wreck of a bus. Down in Cornwall, of all places! You should go and see her,’ she had finished decisively, before sauntering off into the colourful kitchen of her North London flat.

Delilah hadn’t come down to see her then, even though she and Charlie got on. Charlie was a couple of years older than her, and – as her mum continually reminded her – wiser, and they bounced off each other well. But Delilah had been busy at the time, with her own catering career. She pushed away a flicker of regret as she drove down the hill and into the village.

Despite it being the end of February and the sky a solid wall of cloud, the beach car park was close to full. The seafront was pretty and quaint, with a bed and breakfast, convenience store with hanging baskets sporting clouds of white snowdrops and pastel-hued hyacinths, and Victorian-style streetlights. Lila wasn’t sure where Charlie lived, so she squeezed her estate car into a space in the corner of the car park, brushed her hands down her ripped jeans, and checked her reflection in the mirror.

She practised her widest, warmest smile, then sighed. The bus café had worked out, she now knew from Aunt Bonnie. Charlie was happy – successful, and in love, too, by all accounts – so would she be delighted to see her, however unannounced her visit was? Or would Lila find herself on the road back to London before the day was out?

She wondered, again, why firstly she had allowed her mum to talk her into this trip, and secondly why she had headed off without warning Charlie first. Was it because, as Lila suspected, Charlie would not welcome her with open arms, and Tabitha knew that as well as she did? But then a living, breathing cousin was harder to turn away than the thought of one.

Lila opened the car door. The wind was icy, the closeness to the sea adding an extra bite, and she shivered and dug around on the back seat for a cardigan. She found one; grey, woven through with silver thread, the holes in the wool and the wide sleeves making it more like a fishing net than a garment for warding off the cold. Still, it would add some warmth. As she tugged it on, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She felt a jolt of hope, but when she checked it was a message from her mum, asking if she’d arrived safely. She replied quickly, then shoved her phone in her handbag, alongside a packet of coffee beans that she hadn’t had the heart to remove.

Car locked, Lila turned in the direction of the beach and let her senses take everything in. Her nose instantly took the lead: the smells emanating from the trucks, vans and marquees were heady and intoxicating. She picked up spices, caramelized sugar, the richness of frying meat and, of course, the distinctive aroma of coffee. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since a limp sandwich and a latte at a service station on the M3. She licked her lips in anticipation, and climbed over the metal rail of the car park onto the sand.

She was soon lost amongst the crowd, surrounded by laughter and voices and movement. The hairs prickled on her arms and a smile tugged at her lips. She had spent far too much time in her tiny flat recently: it felt good to be among people again. She heard the roar of an engine and watched as a yellow inflatable speedboat left the jetty behind, waterproof-clad people on board, seemingly unafraid of the wind-chill factor.

‘The best burger van in Cornwall is just beyond the sushi truck,’ said a voice at her shoulder. ‘They have a Porthgolow burger, which I helped create. It’s the most delicious thing in the whole market.’

Lila turned, discovering the voice belonged to a boy who might be nudging towards his teenage years but was almost as tall as her. He had blond hair and intelligent eyes, and was giving her an unselfconscious grin.

‘Is it now?’ she said. ‘I am pretty hungry. Where’s the best place for coffee?’

‘You’ve got the coffee van,’ he replied, pointing to a minute silver Citroën van that was dwarfed by most of the other food trucks. ‘They do three different types of roast, and have twelve flavoured syrups. Or you can go on Charlie’s bus. She does great coffee, and cream teas, and has a daily cake special that always sells out. But if you go there, you can’t forget about Benji’s Burgers. He’ll never forgive me if I lose him customers.’

‘He won’t?’ Lila folded her arms over her chest. ‘That sounds pretty harsh.’

The boy rolled his eyes. ‘It’s an expression, isn’t it? I don’t mean it literally.’

‘Recently, when people have told me they’ll never forgive me, I’ve believed them,’ she confided. She turned away from him, Charlie’s bus visible above the other vehicles a couple of rows away, but the boy wasn’t finished.

‘Oh, really?’ he asked. ‘Why’s that, then? What have you done?’

‘It’s a very long and boring story, and I’m sure you don’t want to hear it.’

‘I’m Jonah.’ The boy held out his hand. ‘My mum and dad run SeaKing Safaris from the jetty.’

Surprised, Lila paused for a moment before shaking. ‘I’m Delilah, but everyone calls me Lila. You know Charlie well?’

He nodded. ‘We’re great friends. I help out on the bus sometimes, when Benji doesn’t need me.’

‘You’re in demand.’ She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Fancy taking me to see Charlie and her bus?’

‘I’m not surprised that’s where you want to go,’ Jonah said. ‘Everyone’s heard about the Cornish Cream Tea Bus. It’s the most famous bus in Cornwall! And it’s not just a café – it’s so much more than that.’

‘Excellent,’ Lila murmured. Her mum had assured her that this break would be exactly what she needed, but if she was just going to be reminded of all Charlie’s successes, putting into even sharper focus how much Lila had messed up, it wasn’t likely to be the balm she’d been led to believe. ‘Charlie and I go way back,’ she said to Jonah.

‘Oh?’ His eyebrows rose towards his hairline. ‘Come on, then.’

Lila followed him as he picked a path between food vans and people. The aromas of spice and salt wafted past on a wind that tugged at her hair, her cardigan scant protection against its icy chill.

They stopped in front of the gleaming bus, and through the window Lila saw people sitting at tables, an expensive coffee machine, huge muffins bursting with blueberries and, with a flash of red hair and even redder apron, her cousin, laughing and smiling and handing someone what looked like an old-fashioned bus ticket.

‘Are you just going to peer through the window, or are you coming in?’ Jonah said.

‘You’re very direct, for a boy.’ Lila watched him bristle at her words, and laughed. ‘I’m joking. I was having a look before I went on board, that’s all.’

‘Have you and Charlie had an argument?’ Jonah asked, his irritation replaced by curiosity. ‘In fact, you never said how you knew her. You’re not enemies, are you? I haven’t led you right to her? Is she the person who’s never going to forgive you?’ He looked horrified, as if he’d just realized he’d committed a crime against humanity.

Lila pushed her second wave of laughter back down. ‘Nope. We’re cousins. Besides, if I was looking to carry out some kind of vendetta, it’s not like she’d be hard to miss, would she? Even without you, I would have been able to track her down. The bus does have a reputation, after all.’

Jonah nodded, his expression thoughtful. ‘I can tell, Lila, that you’re going to be a bit of a handful.’

This time she couldn’t hold back her laughter. But as she followed the boy on board the double decker and waited to see Charlie’s reaction, Lila had to admit that this young man had his finger on the pulse. He wasn’t the first person who’d said that about her.

The Cornish Cream Tea Bus was beautiful, Lila had to concede as she stepped on board. Cosy but not too twee, fairy lights dancing a path round the top of the windows, the mugs and crockery all matching, the coffee machine gleaming from the kitchen area at the front of the vehicle. Charlie was deep in conversation with a couple sitting at one of the tables, and Lila could hear the excited chatter of children on the upper deck. She watched her cousin for a moment, recalling the last time she had seen her: it had been in Cheltenham, almost exactly a year ago, at Hal’s funeral. She had only met Charlie’s uncle Hal a couple of times at wider family gatherings – her mum and Charlie’s mum were sisters, and she hadn’t had much contact with Charlie’s dad’s side of the family – but she had known how close they were.

Then, Charlie had clearly been working hard to hold it together. Smiling and circulating with plates of perfect mini sandwiches and delicate cakes, greeting everyone with more warmth and graciousness than Lila could have mustered, had she been in the same situation. Their conversation then had been short and heartfelt, not like previous family gatherings where they had found a spare bottle of wine and sneaked away to a corner of whatever function room Bonnie and Tabitha had chosen, and tried to put the world to rights.

Lila felt a swell of affection for Charlie as she watched her joking and laughing and scribbling something on her jotter pad. Now, it was obvious that she was flourishing. Her pale skin was as close to tanned as it was possible to get, and her smile was wide and unaffected. Lila had thought that running a café on a bus would be hard work, but it was clear that it was exactly where her cousin needed to be.

She hovered in the doorway, suddenly nervous, and waited for Charlie to notice her.

Jonah cleared his throat. Lila batted a hand at him. ‘Shush, I don’t want to—’

‘Charlie,’ the boy said loudly, cutting over the chatter, ‘someone’s here to see you.’

Lila would have pushed Jonah back onto the sand, except that it was too late now and her introduction had been made. Charlie looked up, confusion turning to comprehension.

‘Delilah?’ she screeched. ‘Oh my God, you’re here!’ She rushed forwards and embraced her. She was several inches taller than Lila, and Lila found herself pressed into her cousin’s neck and getting a heady waft of perfume. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’

‘I wanted it to be a surprise,’ Lila said brightly. For a moment she had thought that her mum might have called ahead and smoothed things over, but that would have been too easy.

‘How long are you on holiday for? Where are you staying?’ Charlie pushed Lila away from her and looked her up and down. ‘Jonah, this is my cousin Delilah.’

‘I know,’ Jonah said casually. ‘I brought her here.’ As if he’d orchestrated the whole thing, rather than simply accosting her on the beach.

‘I could have found my own way,’ Lila said defensively. How could Charlie be friends with someone so young and precocious? The exchange had also confirmed that her mum hadn’t passed on Lila’s latest news to Bonnie, who would, in turn, have passed it to Charlie. ‘I’m not sure how long,’ she said, in answer to Charlie’s first question. ‘Mum suggested it, thought that a bit of a breather from London, a bit of sea air, would do me good. She said you’d been doing so well down here – according to Aunt B, anyway – and that I could learn a thing or two.’

Charlie nodded, her eyes narrowing, and Lila silently cursed her for being so perceptive. But now, in the middle of a crowded café bus, which Charlie was presumably supposed to be running, was not the time to spill all her secrets. ‘So you’ve nowhere booked?’ Charlie asked.

‘I thought I’d find somewhere fairly easily, seaside village in February and all that. I noticed there’s a B&B right on the seafront.’

‘You can stay with me,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ve got a spare room, and it’s only had Mum and Dad in it so far. I’d love to make more use of it.’

‘I wouldn’t be cramping your style?’ Lila thought of this gorgeous boyfriend that Charlie was supposed to have, and wondered how thin the walls were.

‘Not at all,’ Charlie said. ‘It’ll be lovely to have you here for a couple of weeks. You remember Juliette, and Lawrence?’

Lila nodded. She’d found Charlie’s best friend a bit quiet on the few occasions she’d met her, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that. She tried not to linger on Charlie’s assumption that she was only planning on staying a couple of weeks. She might well be crawling up the cliff face with boredom after one.

‘There’s so much to show you, so many people to introduce you to,’ Charlie continued, her voice rising with excitement. A bell sounded – a ‘ding, ding’, as if someone wanted to get off at the next stop – and Charlie looked around, but all the people at the downstairs tables seemed happy enough. ‘I need to nip upstairs. Jonah, have you got time to show Lila round the food market?’

‘It’s OK – I’ll have a wander by myself.’

‘I’m due to help Benji in ten minutes.’

They spoke at the same time, and Charlie laughed. ‘You’re sure?’ she said to Lila. ‘Juliette’s going to take over in a bit so I can have a break. Do you want to take Marmite with you? He’d love a walk.’

‘Marmite?’ Lila frowned, and then remembered Charlie’s puppy. She’d told her about him at Hal’s funeral, and Lila remembered thinking that she wished she’d sneaked him to it in her handbag, to cheer everyone up. Of course funerals were all about celebrating a life – he would have wanted us to wear bright colours; he would have wanted us to laugh and think only of the good times, blah blah blah – but they were always such sombre occasions, even if the guests tried to hold back their tears. All those false, thin-lipped smiles would have turned to genuine laughter if there had been a naughty, adorable puppy chasing down a few sausage rolls. Now, the puppy must be fully-grown.

Lila followed Charlie to the front of the bus, where a small, scruffy, tan and black dog sat on the driver’s seat, looking up at her quizzically, one ear folded over. Her heart melted instantly. ‘Oh my God, Charlie!’

‘Don’t let his looks deceive you, he’s a total terror. This cuteness is all for show.’ She waggled her finger and Marmite licked it. Lila laughed.

‘I would love to take him for a walk,’ she breathed, and found her arms full of warm, wriggling, soft-smelling dog. ‘Aaah, Marmite. Hello, little bruiser.’

It was Charlie’s turn to laugh. ‘He’s not much of a bruiser, compared to Jasper. But Jasper is as soft as a teddy bear and, unlike Marmite, well behaved.’

‘Jasper?’ Lila looked around, expecting another fur-baby to emerge from under the driver’s seat.

‘Jasper is Daniel’s dog,’ Charlie explained. ‘He’s a German shepherd, and I think he’s given my Yorkipoo a bit of a size complex.’

‘Ah, Daniel.’ There was no mistaking the indulgent look on Charlie’s face. Daniel was the new man. ‘I’m really looking forward to meeting him, too.’ She fluttered her heavily mascara’d lashes, and Charlie grinned.

‘You will. Very soon. That’s settled, then. Come back in half an hour and we can have a catch-up, then I’ll give you the keys to the house so you can let yourself in and get sorted.’

‘I really appreciate this, Charlie. Thank you.’ She felt an unexpected swell of emotion and swallowed the lump in her throat. She was so relieved to have a warm welcome, even if Charlie wasn’t yet in possession of all the facts. Lila wanted to hold on to it, to delay telling her about her most recent calamity.

‘Will you never learn?’ her mum had asked her, exasperation sharpening her tone. The implication being that, at twenty-six years of age, she really should be getting the hang of being a grown-up by now. Lila had wanted to tell her it wasn’t as easy as that, that it was as if the adult setting had been missing when they made her, and she couldn’t turn it on, however hard she tried.

‘You all right, Lila?’ Charlie asked, concern denting her pretty face.

‘I’m fine!’ Lila said perkily. ‘It’s so lovely to be here. I can’t wait to hear all about you and your bus, and explore the village. It’s beautiful.’

‘It’s a really special place,’ Charlie said with feeling. ‘I’m sure in a couple of days you’ll be as captivated by it as I am.’

Lila smiled and nodded back. It was far away from London, and that alone made it special.

She left Charlie on the bus and stepped back into the cold, Marmite as keen to investigate the sounds and smells around them as she was. She knew she would have to tell Charlie everything, but for now she was going to let Porthgolow and its food market distract her. Life was too short to spend time wallowing, and it wasn’t as if she could do anything about what had happened – as she’d already been told, she’d done more than enough. Lila had no option but to move on.

Chapter Two

Lila drove the gold Volvo slowly up the hill, Marmite on the front passenger seat, a vegetarian burrito on the dashboard, just out of reach of his snuffling nose. She couldn’t deny that Charlie’s food market was vibrant, with a much younger feel than she had expected. She had been imagining something old and staid, a few pensioners picking up bread and wonky homemade cakes, and a burger van where the patties were more grease than meat. But this was fresh and fun, full of all kinds of flavours and people. A few had looked at her curiously, as if visitors to the market quickly became regulars and she stood out as a newcomer, but maybe it was just that she was with Marmite who, if Charlie was an integral part of this place, must also be well known.

She checked the road-signs as she drove, looking for Coral Terrace, Charlie’s keyring tinkling in the cup holder. Their catch-up had been brief, the flow of conversation constantly interrupted as Charlie introduced Lila to the vendors, and she took the offered samples, said ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘wonderful’, as they told her about their businesses.

She had warmed immediately to Hugh, who sold his local ale close to the pub which, Lila found out, was also his. The Seven Stars looked welcoming, and she wondered if there were ever lock-ins. A proper lock-in in a traditional pub had been on her bucket list since she’d discovered the joys of beer. But her lack of conversation with Charlie was weighing on her; she hadn’t even indicated that she might want to stay longer than a fortnight, and the thought of going into her cousin’s home without laying all her cards on the table somehow seemed like a betrayal.

The houses were like rows of teeth; close together, slightly higgledy-piggledy as they followed the shape of the cliff they were built on. Charlie’s Yorkipoo yipped and pressed his front paws against the window, peering out. When she found the road she was looking for, Lila turned the car into it and parked in the first available space. Charlie had told her the parking was tight, so she wasn’t going to be picky.

She got out and pulled her zebra-print wheelie case out of the boot, put her burrito and keys in her handbag, and lifted Marmite off the passenger seat. She brought his face close to hers, and he licked her chin and buried his nose into her neck. Lila wondered whether, when she went back to London, she might get her own dog – if she could find a job that would allow her to work from home, or at least be flexible so she could look after one.

‘You’re not kidnapping Marmite, are you?’

Lila turned and found a very attractive man staring at her. Broad shoulders, dark hair, brown eyes dancing with amusement. ‘No, I … Charlie asked me to bring him with me, to her house.’

‘And you are?’ He held his hand out, the gesture welcoming but his tone slightly threatening. This, she realized as she shook his hand, must be Daniel. Marmite scrabbled in her arms, pawing at him, and Daniel ruffled the dog’s ears affectionately.

‘I’m Lila, Charlie’s cousin. You’re Daniel.’

‘I am. You live in London, is that right?’

Lila nodded and said, ‘So she’s mentioned me, then?’

‘Not a lot, but I’ve heard your name before.’

‘It’s Delilah officially, but Lila for short,’ she explained.

‘Charlie and her family all seem to have unusual names,’ he smiled. ‘Bonnie, Vince, Charlene – and now Delilah. It’s nice to meet you. Charlie didn’t mention you were coming to stay.’

‘Charlie didn’t know,’ Lila admitted. ‘But it’s lovely to meet you, too. I’ve heard lots about you. All good things. My aunt Bonnie has a tendency to exaggerate, but on this occasion, she hasn’t.’

‘I’m not going to ask what that means, but shall we go in – if you’re on your way to Charlie’s?’

‘Sure. I could make you a cup of tea.’

‘Or I could make you one. You’re the guest, after all.’ He held out his hand, and after a second Lila realized he was offering to take her case. She handed it to him and stretched her fingers out – she hadn’t realized she’d been gripping the handle so hard.

‘Do you live with Charlie, then? How long have you been together, now?’

Daniel gave her a sideways glance as they walked along Coral Terrace. ‘No, my house is behind us, a couple of roads further towards the beach. We’ve been together since August, so … six months.’

‘And it’s true love?’ Lila asked. He turned to look at her, almost tripping on a raised paving stone in the process, and she inwardly cursed herself for being so bold.

‘Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with Charlie? You’re close, I assume, since you’ve come all this way to see her?’

He stopped at a pretty white terraced house with a bold red front door; a couple of pots of pink and blue flowers that Lila couldn’t name stood on the windowsill. There was no front garden but then, with the beach so close, Lila wasn’t sure she’d miss it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lived somewhere with any kind of garden, and even the roof terrace of her mum’s flat was only graced with their presence if they had a sudden desire to watch the sunset, or lie on loungers and drink wine when the weather was sunny enough.

Daniel opened the front door and looked at her expectantly. ‘Oh,’ she said, realizing she hadn’t answered his question. ‘We don’t see each other that often, but we get along.’

‘And this impromptu visit is because …?’ He stepped into a tiny hallway at the bottom of a narrow flight of stairs, one doorway off it into the living room. She followed him into the bright, airy space. It had slightly scuffed wooden floors and white walls, with several framed photographs spaced sparingly along them. Lila stepped closer to examine them. They were local: of the food market, Charlie’s bus, the beach at sunset. Daniel walked through the living room and into the kitchen. He filled the kettle and switched it on.

‘They’re Reenie’s,’ he said. ‘Has Charlie told you about her?’

‘No, we haven’t had much of a chance to talk. She was busy on the bus, but she said I could get sorted in the spare room, and …’ Marmite knocked against her leg. He was twisting his lead around his small body as if he wanted to wrap himself up in it. She crouched and untangled him, then unclipped his lead.

‘Charlie’s done amazing things with Gertie,’ Daniel said.

Lila could hear the fridge door opening and closing, the sound of a teaspoon chinking against ceramic as she went to gaze at each photograph in turn, looking at the village in its different states: dark and moody, the clouds low over the choppy sea; peach and amber at sunset; everything awash with midday sunshine. She got a sense of Porthgolow’s personality from these photos, almost as strongly as she had from walking along the seafront and visiting the market herself.

‘Gertie? Oh, that was the name of Hal’s bus, wasn’t it? Now the Cornish Cream Tea Bus.’

‘Milk? Sugar?’

‘Milk and two sugars, please.’

Daniel handed her a mug and sat down, clasping his own cup in both hands.

Lila perched on the other sofa, so she was at right angles to him. Daniel leaned forwards expectantly, and she had the sense she was about to be interrogated.

‘So you’re Charlie’s cousin – remind me which side of the family?’

‘My mum, Tabitha, is Charlie’s mum Bonnie’s sister.’

Daniel nodded and rubbed his jaw. He had a confident swagger – understandable, Lila thought, given his good looks, even if they were a bit too classic for her tastes – but he also had an immediate warmth and kindness. She prided herself on being able to read people, and she decided that Charlie had found herself a good man. Before today, Lila couldn’t remember the last time she’d met a good man, let alone been able to claim him.

‘And you’re here for a holiday, but you didn’t check with Charlie that you could stay with her first?’

‘She offered, when I saw her.’

Daniel laughed. ‘Of course she did. She would probably offer her spare room to a stranger if they asked. But you’re …’ His words trailed away and he went completely still, and Lila realized this wasn’t an interrogation. He didn’t need her to contribute anything, he was simply figuring things out for himself. It made her restless.

‘I should probably explain all this to Charlie when she’s finished work.’ She gestured to her wheelie case, now sitting in the corner of the room.

‘You’re not just here for a holiday, are you?’

Lila pressed her lips together, lifted her shoulders in a barely there shrug.

Daniel rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look cross, just amused. ‘So, Charlie’s got herself a lodger.’

Lila hung her head. ‘Look, it’s … my mum said that Charlie was so happy here, she thought it might be good for me to have a complete break from everything. Job and friends and … London’s a bit of a disaster zone for me, at the moment. The parts I know, anyway.’

When she forced herself to meet Daniel’s gaze, there was compassion in his eyes. ‘Talk to Charlie,’ he said. ‘I’m sure she’ll be understanding. And Porthgolow is a better place than any to recharge your batteries.’

‘You’re not mad that I’m here?’

‘What do I have to be mad about? I’ve only just met you, and if you and Charlie are close, then I’m looking forward to getting to know you.’

‘I promise I won’t get in the way.’

Daniel stood and, as he was passing, placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘I know you won’t. Get settled in; Charlie will be back in a couple of hours. See you later, Lila.’

‘Bye, Daniel. And thank you.’

When he was gone, she kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the sofa, then lifted Marmite onto her lap. The dog wriggled for a moment and then settled, like a hot-water bottle, on her stomach. It had been a long drive and now, with the thought of having to tell Charlie what she had done, and that she wasn’t exactly here for a holiday, the emotional exhaustion was almost worse than the physical. She closed her eyes, thankful for the chance to let everything – most of all her thoughts – rest for a moment.

‘Lila. Lila.’

She was woken with a gentle shake, and blinked and pulled herself up to sitting. Charlie was peering down at her and Lila could see, beyond her, that the day had lost its light. She had a sudden yearning for the long, shimmering evenings of midsummer. The end of winter couldn’t come soon enough.

‘Sorry, I closed my eyes for a moment.’

‘Don’t worry about that. Have you settled in OK?’

Lila glanced guiltily at her suitcase, still exactly where she had left it when she’d walked in with Daniel. The bag containing her burrito sat on top. Her mouth watered: she was sure it would be delicious cold. ‘Uhm.’

Charlie went into the kitchen and Lila pushed herself off the sofa and looked at her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. Her long dark hair had mostly come loose from its ponytail, her mascara was smudged and her skin was pale, enhancing the spray of dark freckles across her nose and cheeks. She looked ghastly.

‘Shall I go and unpack now?’

‘I got us some Thai food,’ Charlie said, ‘so if you’re happy to wait, we can have this while it’s hot. You’re still a veggie?’

‘Yup. And that smells amazing.’ She sent a silent apology to the discarded burrito, and sat at the small round table in the corner of the living room while Charlie plated up and uncorked a bottle of white wine.

‘It’s so lovely that you’re here,’ Charlie said, once they’d clinked glasses. ‘I mean, unexpected, but in a good way. I thought we’d stay in tonight, let you catch up after the drive, and then tomorrow I can introduce you to everyone, maybe take you to the pub.’

‘I met Daniel earlier. On my way here.’

‘I know.’ Charlie twirled her fork in her noodles, then looked straight at Lila. ‘He said I should talk to you, about your … holiday plans.’

Lila slumped in her chair. ‘It was – is … maybe he got the wrong idea, or—’

‘How long do you want to stay, exactly?’

‘I don’t know,’ Lila admitted. ‘It might even be less than two weeks. I just … things have gone a bit wrong, in London. Mum said … well, she keeps getting updates from Aunt Bonnie, and going on about how fabulously you’re doing, how Cornwall has been the making of you. She suggested I should come and see if it could sort me out, too.’

Charlie laughed. ‘I’m not sure I needed “sorting out” when I came here. But it was exactly the right thing for me. And …’ She chewed her lip, and Lila crossed her fingers under the table. ‘I stayed with Juliette and Lawrence for a really long time before I got this place. But what are your plans? What do you want to do while you’re here? And what happened in London? What are you running from? Surely you can’t be avoiding the entire city? That’s a huge-scale disaster, even for you.’

They exchanged a smile. Charlie was the one person who could say that without her taking offence. ‘Not the whole of London, just the important bits. And I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I just – I had to get away, Charlie. I was going insane, going from my flat, to Mum’s flat, to my flat. This endless, mind-numbing circle. I knew I needed to make a fresh start, but—’

‘Fresh from what? I thought you were working in that posh coffee place.’

Lila pushed a cashew around until her fork finally speared it. ‘There was this thing … But it’s over now. Nobody died and we’ve all moved on, I just need to … reset.’ She gave her cousin what she hoped was a winning smile.

Charlie didn’t return it. ‘If the best thing you can say about this … whatever it is, is that nobody died, then you probably need to tell me about it.’

‘It’s nothing. Really.’

‘Yes, Lila. It’s something. Come on. Spill the beans.’

Lila cringed at Charlie’s words: she didn’t realize how apt they were. ‘I honestly—’

‘You have to tell me, how about that? The price of you staying with me is that I get to know why you’ve come here in the first place.’

Lila glared, but Charlie was adamant. Adamant but, Lila could instantly see, sympathetic.

‘Fine,’ Lila muttered, ‘but maybe we could …’ she gestured towards the living area.

Charlie put their empty plates in the kitchen, took the bottle of wine and settled herself on a sofa. Lila sat at the opposite end and turned to face her.

‘So,’ Charlie prompted. ‘London. New start.’

‘Promise you won’t make a big deal of it,’ Lila said.

‘Make a bag deal of what, Lila?’ Charlie laughed. ‘You can stall all you want, but until you tell me, I’m not going to have an opinion about it.’

‘I lost Clara her job,’ Lila rushed. ‘I lost mine, too, but that’s inconsequential. And she’s never going to forgive me, apparently, so …’ She shrugged and sipped her wine.

‘Oh, Lila.’ Charlie sat back. ‘You and Clara? You’ve been best friends for ever! What happened, exactly?’

Lila tucked her legs under her, and Marmite jumped up and curled himself in the hole between them.

‘Clara had just been promoted,’ Lila said. ‘She was in charge of events for this large corporate company, and she’d worked so hard to get there. She had a huge reception to plan, welcoming some business partners over from America, and I was working at The Espresso Lounge and we’d got this amazing portable coffee bar. Not just a machine, but a whole bar. It was so swanky, all chrome and polished black metal, and designed exactly for those sorts of events, not food markets like down on the beach today – nothing quite so fun.’ She laughed. ‘So, I suggested that she hire me for the evening, because we didn’t just provide coffee, but a coffee experience.’

‘That sounds perfectly reasonable,’ Charlie said.

‘I thought so too,’ Lila agreed. ‘But Clara was reluctant. She said she wanted to use tried-and-tested suppliers, to make sure everything went smoothly. There could be no mishaps – not with the US partners. I felt a bit miffed, to be honest. I thought, as best mates, she should trust me. And I know now that was wrong, that friendship and business are entirely separate things, and that just because we love each other it doesn’t mean that she should hire me for her events. Obviously, it’s brilliant to realize that afterwards.’

‘You persuaded her?’ Charlie asked.

‘I think it was more like emotional blackmail,’ Lila admitted. ‘I wouldn’t let it go.’

‘So you got the gig, and took your coffee experience machine to her corporate event?’

Lila winced, remembering the apprehension she’d felt on entering that huge foyer, the champagne tower being set up, the oyster bar, the waiters all in white shirts and black waistcoats. It was as if she’d stepped into a different world – one she didn’t have a passport for. ‘I thought our coffee place was superior, but this was on another level. I wheeled in my trolley, Clara directed me to my spot, and I could see from the look in her eyes that she knew she’d made a mistake. But I had to try and do her proud.’ She chewed her fingernail.

‘You set it up?’ Charlie prompted quietly.

‘I set it up. And it was a clever contraption, this impressive coffee machine with its own minibar running along the front, slots for the custom-made espresso, latte and cappuccino cups, all glass so you could see the blends and colour transitions. It unpacked smoothly, and I thought I was doing fine. But it was a newer model than I was used to. My boss hadn’t told me he’d upgraded. Everything else was the same – the bar, the cups, the assembly – but not the machine itself. But it didn’t seem drastically different, so—’

‘You couldn’t make anyone a coffee?’ Charlie asked, grimacing.

‘I wish!’ Lila took a big gulp of wine. ‘This group of people came in, all smartly dressed, perfect hair and shiny teeth and golden skin. I could tell they were the Americans, not least because the other guests were fawning over them. I prayed they would head straight to the champagne bar, but they didn’t. They came to me. They asked me about the display and the different roasts, and I was perfect – I can do all that in my sleep. And then I tried to make this man a coffee.’ She closed her eyes at the memory. ‘There was something wrong – I’d turned the pressure up, too high maybe. At first the machine just started fizzing a bit, and I thought I’d overfilled it with water. I thought that by a couple of macchiatos in I’d be laughing. But then it made this horrible sound. It was a wrenching, gurgling, dying monster noise, and then bits of it sort of flew off and hit the bar, and the American partner, and a couple of his colleagues, and me – we were all sprayed with coffee grounds and water. Quite a lot of it.’ She put her head in her hands.

‘Holy shit,’ Charlie whispered. ‘Lila, it was an accident.’

‘Clara came over while I was trying to clean up the American. She took me aside and told me I had to go. I understood her anger, though she was reining it in then, because the event was still going on around all this mess. A couple of the waiters came to help me clean up as best I could, and then I packed away my luxury coffee bastard of a machine. I sneaked out of the foyer, where a couple of very senior-looking people were trying to calm down the American, whose face was no longer golden but purple. And that’s when I found Clara. She was in a corridor by the lifts, being spoken to by someone I presumed was her boss.’

‘They fired her.’

‘He said, “Clean this up as best you can, get the event back on track, and then go and pack up your things. You’re done.”’

Charlie pressed her hands to her lips.

‘So I stormed up to them and tried to fix it,’ Lila continued. ‘I told him it wasn’t Clara’s fault, it was mine, that I had persuaded her to let me be a part of it, that we were friends and … it had the opposite effect. It made him even angrier, and Clara – that last look she gave me as I carted the broken machine back to the van.’ Lila shook her head. ‘The next day, Giuliano fired me. Word had spread, of course, and I’d broken an expensive piece of equipment and damaged the reputation of The Espresso Lounge.’

‘And Clara?’ Charlie asked quietly. ‘What did you do about her?’

Lila huffed. She hadn’t anticipated that telling Charlie the whole story would be so energy-sapping. ‘Clara and I aren’t friends any more.’

‘You didn’t try to make it up with her?’ Charlie asked. ‘Lila—’

‘Of course I did!’ Lila shot back. ‘Of course I bloody did. But she wasn’t having any of it, and I …’ She swallowed, remembering the last time she’d gone to Clara’s flat. It must have been the fifth or sixth time she’d tried to apologize, tried a different tack, a different gift and set of words to make up for the harm she’d caused. But then Clara, after first refusing to open the door, had followed her out of the building and caught up with her on the street. At first Lila thought she had come to forgive her, to hug and make up. But it was as if she’d been storing up years of annoyance and issues with Lila, and let her have them all at once. Over a decade of friendship, reduced to all the ways that Lila had failed her, all the ways she was no good.

‘It’s over, that’s all,’ Lila said, cross that her voice chose that moment to wobble.

‘There has to be a way you can make it up to her,’ Charlie suggested. ‘Your friendship is too important to lose.’

Lila folded her arms and shrugged. ‘Not all friendships survive for ever. Ours was one that didn’t.’

‘Lila—’

‘Can I still stay? Just for a bit. Until I decide what I want to do.’

‘Of course you can,’ Charlie said, rubbing her arm. ‘And that sounds so tough. All of it. It wasn’t really your fault.’

‘It was. I forced Clara into hiring me. She knew what was best, but I wanted to help her with this new promotion. I got it wrong. Now I need to dust myself down and move on.’ Charlie gave her a sceptical look, but Lila chose to ignore it. ‘I could help you on the bus,’ she said. ‘You looked so busy today.’

‘I know, but the food markets are only once a month until May, and Porthgolow’s much quieter in the off-season. I only open a couple of days during the week, and then at weekends. I’m running these Cornish Cream Tea Tours too, but only every fortnight at the moment. So I—’

‘But you need help with those, right? I would do anything. My coffee-making skills are going begging. What I don’t know about an arabica bean or an Italian roast isn’t worth knowing. Show me the ropes, at least. You must be dying for some time off.’

Charlie took a long sip of wine and sat back against the cushions. ‘I honestly can’t offer you many hours.’

Lila shook her head. ‘Anything, Charlie. And you don’t have to pay me. You’re letting me stay here, for goodness’ sake. Let me help you out? I could be a real asset, and it would give me some time to figure things out.’ She drained her glass. ‘After all, what’s family for?’

‘What about your flat? Don’t you have rent, bills, back in London?’

Lila dropped her gaze. ‘My flat’s only on a short-term lease, and Mum said she’d help out for a couple of months, while I decide if I want to keep it. She’s given me some holiday money for this trip, too, so I can help with groceries. I’m going to pay her back once I’m all sorted.’

Charlie nodded. ‘OK. A trial run. I’ll give you a crash course in Gertie on Monday, and you never know, someone else in the village might have some work for you. We can ask around – we’re pretty close-knit.’

‘I’m getting that feeling,’ Lila said, relief making her giddy. ‘And good work with Daniel, too. You didn’t think about using your womanly rights on Leap Day and proposing?’

Charlie looked shocked. ‘That’s a bit old fashioned, isn’t it?’

‘Romantic though,’ Lila said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. Charlie threw a cushion at her. Marmite raised his nose and blinked, then returned to his snooze.

‘In this day and age, women can propose to their men – or their women – whenever they want,’ Charlie said. ‘They don’t need outdated traditions to limit them to the one day that only comes around every four years.’

‘But you have thought about it, though?’ Lila couldn’t help pushing. ‘I mean, a man like that, you must have considered spending the rest of your life with him.’

Charlie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. ‘Did your mum tell you about how we got together?’

‘Something about a life-or-death rescue?’ Lila asked. ‘I didn’t entirely believe it, because Mum overdramatizes everything, so I’m desperate to hear the truth – and I want all the delicious details, please.’ She wriggled further into the sofa cushions and settled in for a good gossip with her cousin who, when they spent time together, made her feel as if she wasn’t an only child.

Lila had told Charlie what had happened, and now she could put to the back of her mind the final, furious row with Clara. She had chosen not to examine her best friend’s accusations too closely – she had been angry, justifiably so, and it had certainly drawn a line under the whole sorry situation. Now Lila could focus on what she was going to do next, and spending a few weeks working on board a café on a double-decker bus with her cousin, the beach just outside the window, seemed a good place to start.

Chapter Three

Over the next few days, Lila got to know Porthgolow. Nobody she met had a bad word to say about it, and a few – including pub landlord Hugh, and Jonah’s mum, Amanda Kerr, went as far as to say that Charlie had saved it. Lila wasn’t sure how one person could save a village, unless Gertie the bus had magical sea-repelling skills and had somehow prevented it being flooded in a storm. But she bought in to the villagers’ enthusiasm for the place, and it certainly had a quaint, slightly worn charm about it, as if every bit of faded paint was intentional.

On her first evening, Charlie had told her about her first few months in the village, and how she had ended up with Daniel. The dramatic rescue had, in fact, happened as Lila’s mum had said. Charlie played it down, but Lila had spotted all the signs; the way she spoke quickly and breathlessly, her eyes bright. It seemed Daniel really had been in trouble, with Charlie his ‘knight in a gleaming bus’. It was almost as if she was some kind of saint, and yet, as much as Lila usually hated people who could do no wrong, it was impossible to dislike Charlie.

True to her word, Charlie had given her a Gertie crash-course on Monday morning, with an optimistic sun bouncing off the water, picking out all the details that made the bus special: the matching crockery, all reds and blues; the authentic-looking ticket machine; the cake stands that displayed Charlie’s bakes to their best advantage. Lila was particularly impressed with the coffee machine, which she regarded as her area of expertise, despite recent events. It was a compact model, but a good make, and it made an excellent espresso, Americano and latte.

‘It’s all very straightforward,’ Charlie had said, as she plated up two warm fruit scones for an older couple who had come on board the bus within five minutes of it being open.

‘It’s magnificent,’ Lila had replied, running her hand along the kitchen counter. ‘And this is all your vision, Charlie. You turned Gertie into this wondrous eating establishment. A bus, a café, a tour guide, a life-saver – is there anything you can’t do together?’

‘I’m not sure we’d win any surfing competitions,’ Charlie had said wistfully, but Lila could tell she was pleased, and that she knew how much she’d accomplished.

‘I’m so happy for you.’ She had felt compelled to hug her cousin, her affection rising to the surface, complete with a flash of envy. Lila couldn’t remember the last time she had achieved anything worthwhile. Notorious, certainly. Noteworthy, not so much. But that was all going to change.

She had taken about five minutes to become addicted to paddling on Porthgolow’s beach. She had always loved the sea, the feel of it against her skin, so different to the stripped, chlorinated feel of a gym pool. It didn’t matter that it was freezing – she looked forward to the warm towel and fluffy socks afterwards – and Marmite, she quickly discovered, was happy to be her partner in crime.

She was walking along the sea’s edge, carrying her shoes, Marmite splashing happily at her feet, when she heard someone shouting from further up the beach. She thought it sounded like ‘You’, but the wind carried it away on the breeze before she could make it out. She turned and saw an older woman, her grey hair curling around her ears, waving in her direction. She looked behind her, but there was only the churn of the waves, and so she stepped out of the water, sand sticking to the soles of her feet.

‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Are you talking to me?’

The older woman shuffled towards her, and Lila saw her face was pinched, unsmiling. Had something happened to Charlie? She felt a jolt of panic and hurried up the beach.

‘So you’re her, then?’ the woman said.

‘I’m who?’ Lila asked.

‘Charlie’s relative. Cousin, isn’t it? You don’t look very alike, I must say.’

‘Yes, I’m Charlie’s cousin. I think we’ve got the same eyes, actually, but then I suppose from just a quick glance we do look quite diff—’

‘I don’t care ’bout that, really. Just wanted a good look at you. I was away on Saturday, missed the food market, missed all your introductions. You met Reenie, my friend, coverin’ the Pop-In for me over the weekend.’

‘Ah,’ Lila said, the pieces falling into place. So this was Myrtle, the owner of the Pop-in that Charlie had told her about, luring her away from her paddling purely so she didn’t have to walk down to the water herself. ‘Yes, I’m Lila. But I’m a person, not a zoo exhibit.’

‘Pardon?’ Myrtle’s brow creased.

‘You said you wanted to look at me. I would have thought it’s a bit of an anticlimax. I’m pretty ordinary looking. No horns, no tail. No mermaid scales.’ She had heard about Reenie – who had taken the photos on Charlie’s wall – and the rumours that Jonah had spread about her.

‘You’ve got some front, girl,’ Myrtle replied, shaking her head. ‘And to think you’re connected to Charlie by blood. I suppose this sort of attitude is all well an’ good in London, but believe me, cheel, it won’t work around here. Not if you want to make friends. I was just tryin’ to be welcoming.’ She turned away.

‘You were?’ Lila asked. Both Charlie and Daniel had assured her Myrtle’s heart was in the right place, even if she sometimes came across as more bristles than feathers. ‘I’m sorry, then. But you had me worried, calling me away from the beach like that. I thought something awful had happened.’

Myrtle nodded, her lips pressed together. ‘Don’t know what you’re doin’ in the water anyway, weather as chill as it is. It’s only just March, you realize. Just because we’re by the sea, doesn’t mean the weather’s always beach weather. You’d do well to remember that.’

Lila chewed the inside of her cheek. ‘I will try my hardest to remember that, Myrtle. Nice to meet you.’ She held her hand out.

Myrtle hesitated, as if it might be some kind of trap, then shook it briefly. Then she shuffled off in the direction of the Pop-In, leaving Lila and Marmite alone at the edge of the beach, Lila’s bare feet turning to blocks of ice as the wind chilled her damp flesh.

By Thursday she felt she knew Gertie inside and out. She had even helped Charlie, the evening before, make a batch of scones in her kitchen at home, marvelling at the way her cousin managed to get flour onto every conceivable surface, including the cooker hood. There had been a lot of laughing, which had felt so good after all the anger, and subsequent wallowing, in London. Lila still couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to mope for as long as she had. There were much better things for her to be doing with her time.

‘You getting on all right, then, Lila?’ Amanda asked, wiping sea spray off her waterproof jacket while Lila frothed the milk for her latte.

‘I love the bus,’ she said, pouring the milk slowly onto the coffee and handing the mug to Amanda. ‘I mean, who wouldn’t?’

‘You’ve trained her well,’ Amanda said to Charlie, who was coming down the stairs with a tray full of crockery.

Charlie laughed. ‘It’s only been a few days, but it’s good to be sharing the load, as light as it is at the moment.’

‘Charlie’s taken me under her wing,’ Lila added. ‘She’s always been good at that. And I turned up unannounced, so …’

‘And with a rather defeatist attitude,’ Charlie said, placing the tray next to the sink and starting to load plates into the narrow dishwasher. ‘You know, I’m sure all Clara needs is some time. If you try to talk to her again in a couple of weeks, you might see that she’s come around.’

‘Who’s Clara?’ Amanda asked.

‘My ex-best friend,’ Lila said. ‘And I tried the whole “giving-her-space” thing. Nope. It’s over. End of. Nothing to see here.’

Charlie shook her head, a flicker of frustration in her eyes.

‘Ah,’ Amanda said, giving Lila a sympathetic smile. ‘The troubles of youth.’

‘The troubles of epic, unforgivable stupidity,’ Lila corrected, taking the last mug from the tray and adding it to the dishwasher.

‘Epic,’ Charlie said, ‘is reserved for death-defying journeys that take years to complete, or action films with meteor strikes in them. And for something supposedly so epic, you seem remarkably matter-of-fact about it. You aren’t showing any signs of falling apart.’

‘Who’s to say I haven’t already? This might be phase one of my recovery.’

‘Denial?’ Charlie asked, and then sighed when Lila shot her a pointed look. ‘Fine. Fine. You can’t fall apart for the next three hours, anyway. I need to go into Truro to stock up on supplies. Daniel’s lending me his car. I can’t always trust the supermarket to get the delivery right, and they’re more expensive for the quantities I need. The bus is yours.’ She grinned.

‘Mine?’ Lila asked.

‘Yes. You’re in charge. Don’t worry, I doubt there’ll be a rush on.’ She turned to the window, where the grey sky was darkening almost by the minute, a thunderous cloud hovering menacingly above the sea.

‘You’re letting me take control?’ Lila ran her hands down her floral-print trousers. ‘Of your Cornish Cream Tea Bus?’

‘I’m on the end of the phone, and Daniel’s up at the hotel. Look, if you crouch, you can see it on the cliff. Surely that’s reassuring?’

‘It would be more reassuring if you were staying here and I was going to spend the afternoon in that hot tub you keep mentioning. I haven’t even seen it yet, and I reckon a good massage and some time in the Jacuzzi bubbles would help a lot.’

‘We can go this evening,’ Charlie said, untying her apron. ‘Right now, you need to do this for me. A few hours in charge of the café. Everything’s here, the menu’s self-explanatory, and we’ve not run out of anything. How much more simple could it get?’

Lila caught Amanda peering at her over the top of her mug, quietly amused. ‘That does sound quite simple, I suppose,’ she admitted.

‘There you go, then.’ Charlie lifted Marmite out of the driver’s cab and, tugging gently on Lila’s hair – a gesture that gave her a flash of nostalgia – walked towards the door. ‘Call me – for anything. However big or small, however stupid you think your question is. If you’re worried then ask, OK?’

‘OK!’ Lila said. She watched Charlie walk in the direction of home, presumably to pick up Daniel’s car.

‘You’ll be grand,’ Amanda said. She raised her mug for a final swallow and patted Lila on the shoulder. ‘I have total faith in you.’

‘You hardly know me,’ Lila replied.

‘But Charlie has faith in you, and that’s good enough for me.’ Amanda walked down the aisle, hopped off the bus and strolled towards the SeaKing Safaris boat, her body hunched against the cold.

When no customers thronged immediately onto the bus, Lila started to enjoy herself. She opened all the cupboards in turn – not that there were many in such a small kitchen – then checked the stock in the fridge, ticking each item off against the printed menu, the lettering in pleasingly ornate, but legible, script. For anyone else, the coffee machine would be the most daunting item on board, and Lila drew confidence from the fact that she could use it with her eyes closed. This model, anyway. Compared to the one she’d taken to Clara’s corporate event, this one was a cinch.

Leaning on the counter, she stared out to sea. Jonah had told her that they often saw dolphins on their SeaKing tours, sometimes even from the beach, and Lila hadn’t ever seen one in real life. How great would it be if she could tell Charlie that not only had she looked after the bus successfully, but that she’d seen the famous dolphin pod, too? She wanted to make Charlie proud. One afternoon in charge of the Cornish Cream Tea Bus might go a small way to restoring her confidence.

That afternoon, visitors dripped in like a leaky tap, and just infrequently enough to be annoying. Not that Lila found people annoying. She could talk to anyone, never found herself shy around strangers; she only ever got tongue-tied with people she cared about – especially when she owed them an apology. But this was like water torture. She would daydream, staring out to sea, and then get interrupted, her mind having to switch from fantasy-mode to scone-warming practicalities in an instant. She had always thought she was adaptable, but maybe not.

‘Do we go upstairs or downstairs, love?’ asked a woman wearing a beautiful scarf with a peacock feather design.

‘Wherever you’d like,’ Lila replied. ‘The best views are on the top deck, but the staircase is on the steep side, so it depends if you think it’s worth the risk.’ She raised her eyebrows. The woman looked concerned and, when she and her male companion shuffled towards a downstairs table, Lila decided she’d better tone down the dramatics.

She made sure she got Peacock Lady’s order right, and even coaxed a smile from her when she made a quip about how she had only been in the bus a few days and had already fallen down the stairs. The scones came out of the oven plump and warm and delicious-smelling, not burnt like the toast she had popped out of Charlie’s toaster that morning.

‘It’s a lovely spot, this,’ Peacock Lady said. ‘So picturesque. Does the bus travel around?’

‘It does,’ Lila replied, leaning against the table opposite theirs. ‘My cousin, Charlie, who owns it, takes it along the coast on these tours – cakes and sightseeing sort of thing. They’re very popular, and she’s only got stuck down the Cornish roads a couple of times. Her boyfriend, Daniel, was telling me about this tour just before Christmas when …’ She hesitated, the look of alarm on Peacock Lady’s face reminding her that she was straying into unwanted territory again. People did not want excitement with their Cornish cream teas. ‘When they went to this hidden cove and there was a rainbow, poised perfectly over the sea,’ she continued. ‘They’d travelled down these dark, tree-tunnel roads, so narrow and winding, and then the world opened up for them in this magnificent way. That’s the thing about Cornwall, isn’t it? So many hidden places, so many opportunities to be enchanted.’

‘Oh,’ the woman said, her scone hovering inches from her lips, ‘yes, that does sound wonderful. You don’t have any details about the tours, do you?’

‘I surely do,’ Lila said, skipping to the front of the bus and getting one of the postcards with all Gertie’s information on. ‘Here you go. Up-to-date tour dates are on the website, and you can always contact us here. I’ll leave you to your scones.’ She gave them a twinkly smile and retreated into the kitchen, deciding that she could reward herself with a cappuccino dusted with chocolate, maybe even a squirt of cream. She had never tried her hand at selling, but perhaps she was a natural. Perhaps that was where her future lay.

‘No, I don’t mind about that, Marcie, I just – we need to amp it up. Now that we’re here. Do you see …’ The voice behind Lila cut out in a loud sigh, and she pivoted to discover a man standing in the middle of the aisle, wearing a green puffa jacket, taking up the space with his brash voice and his looming presence, his tightly curled hair so pale that she couldn’t tell whether it was blond or white. She huffed; how rude of him to come onto the bus when he was on the phone. ‘No, Marcie,’ he continued, after a pause, ‘but production starts in a couple of weeks, so we need to line everything up. Truly Cornish, that’s what we’ve said, and at the moment we’ve got a few local suppliers, and Toby Welsh’s great-aunt was born in Penzance or something.’

Lila’s ears pricked up at the word ‘production’ and the mention of Toby Welsh. She knew him. He was an actor. A young, hot actor. He’d starred in an ITV drama about a psychopath stalking the wards of a Manchester hospital. She’d only caught the last episode, so hadn’t entirely followed the plot, but she’d been mesmerized by his performance. And his dark curls and smouldering eyes, and the evidence of his in-shape body beneath that tight-fitting black outfit.

She leaned on the counter and watched Phone Man, silently praying, now, that he wouldn’t walk off the bus. After all, he must have come on board for something. He caught her gaze, pointed at the phone and rolled his eyes. It was an apology of sorts, and Lila found herself smiling back, as if she understood exactly what was going on.

‘Of course, Marcie,’ he said placatingly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ‘We’ll sort it later. When I’m back, yes. Of course. See you then.’ He pressed the screen to end the call and gave Lila a world-weary smile that reached his grey eyes.

‘That sounded intense,’ she said. ‘Coffee?’

‘Please. Strong, milky Americano if you’ve got it. And sorry for …’ He glanced behind him, to where Peacock Lady and her husband were staring unashamedly at him, disapproval etched on their faces. ‘For broadcasting that. The line wasn’t great so I had to shout.’

‘Trouble with the production?’ Lila asked meekly while she set about making his coffee.

‘There are always teething problems,’ he replied. ‘It’s the nature of the beast, but I’ve left myself – well, set myself some additional challenges this time round.’

‘I couldn’t help hearing you mention Toby Welsh. You’re working with him?’

‘Yeah, he’s one of the male leads. Adds an extra level of pressure, but of course it’s worth it for his performance, and the attention he’ll bring. We’re lucky to have him. It’s all been charmed, so far. Casting and location-wise, anyway. It’s just this additional …’ He sighed again, and Lila had the sense that he would be talking even if she walked off the bus. He wasn’t really speaking to her any more. He rubbed his jaw and gave her an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, a million things on my mind. Thank you,’ he added, when she passed him his coffee. He didn’t sit down, instead leaned against the counter that marked the space between the kitchen and the customer seating. Breaking the fourth wall already, Lila thought wryly.

‘I’ve always got time to listen,’ she said, ‘if you want to offload. And how about a Cornish cream tea from the Cornish Cream Tea Bus?’ She spread her arms wide, testing out her sales technique again, seeing if it would work on even the most distracted of customers.

The man opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it. He looked around him, then extended that into a slow circle, holding his mug close to his chest. When he’d finished, his eyes pinned Lila to the spot. ‘The Cornish Cream Tea Bus,’ he repeated. ‘A café? On a bus? Based here?’

‘All those things are correct,’ Lila said, smiling. He was very intense, this man.

‘Wow.’ He rubbed his jaw. ‘I guess I saw all that – I was desperate for a coffee, which is why I came on here in the first place, but thinking about it, I might … I mean I could possibly … Did you say you had a moment to listen?’

‘Sure.’ Lila picked up her cappuccino and led him to the nearest table. Peacock Lady got up to pay, and Lila gave her and her husband a cheery goodbye, and then returned to where the intense man was sitting, tapping frantically on his iPhone. She sat opposite him, and he finished what he was doing and put his phone in his pocket.

‘Winston Thorpe,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Producer for new historical drama series, Estelle. We’re filming it for the BBC, starting the Cornwall location shoot in a couple of weeks.’

Lila was silent for a moment, wishing her résumé was even half as impressive. ‘Delilah Forest,’ she replied. ‘Helping out with my cousin’s Cornish Cream Tea Bus.’

‘It’s not yours?’ he asked. ‘The bus? So you don’t have any sway, any control over it?’

Lila raised her shoulders. ‘Charlie’s put me in charge, so I’ve got the capacity to make executive decisions.’ It sounded pompous, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to tell him that she was inconsequential. Not when he knew Toby Welsh.

‘Excellent.’ He rubbed his hands together and took a sip of his drink, before levelling her with another direct stare, this time accompanied by a charming smile. ‘Well, Delilah Forest, I might have a proposition for you and the Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Have a moment to hear me out?’

Lila grinned, her pulse suddenly racing. ‘I do, indeed. What is your proposition, Winston Thorpe?’

Chapter Four

In hindsight, Lila realized that telling Charlie about her conversation with Winston Thorpe while they relaxed around the indoor swimming pool of Daniel’s posh, cliff-top spa hotel hadn’t been the best idea. She had thought that the calming atmosphere of Crystal Waters, all its elegant luxury (and it was one of the most luxurious places Lila had ever seen), along with the fact that they weren’t entirely alone, would allow Charlie to absorb the news before reacting. Not to mention that it was where they had been heading anyway, the evening of Lila’s first solo afternoon on the bus. But as Charlie screeched out ‘What?’ and Lila had to listen to it echo around the tiled walls, she realized she had chosen the wrong setting.

‘What did you say?’ Charlie hissed it this time, and Lila glanced at the two blonde, preened women in the shallow end of the pool, who were taking great care to keep their coiffed up-dos above the water, while watching Charlie and Lila intently.

Lila rolled over, adjusting her bright blue bikini with orange, Nemo-style fish on it, wishing she’d packed a subtle one-piece like Charlie’s, and met her cousin head on.

‘It is a great opportunity,’ Lila pressed. ‘You, me and Gertie on an actual television set, for a programme that’s going to be shown on the BBC. Toby Welsh is going to be there. He’s the star of the show. And the Cornish Cream Tea Bus, Charlie, an integral part of it.’ She pointed a finger, hoping she was achieving a level of gravitas.

‘It’s a period drama, isn’t it?’ Charlie said, her face not yet relaxing into anything approaching calm. ‘I know Gertie’s a vintage bus, but nineteenth century is pushing it a bit.’

Lila started to laugh, and then realized Charlie wasn’t joining in. ‘You don’t believe me. You think I would make something like this up? He wants Gertie to be part of the catering for the cast and crew. Well, the craft services. So we’re always available, people can come to the bus whenever they’re not busy filming or make-up-ing or directing, and get a coffee or a snack. It’s separate from the catering team who provide the hot meals. Winston told me all about it.’

‘I’m sure Winston did,’ Charlie said shortly. ‘That doesn’t mean you had any right to offer Gertie to him. I have responsibilities – the food markets, tours, the day-to-day café in Porthgolow. What will the regulars do if we’re not there? What will Jeremy and Delia do if they can’t have their Cornish cream tea on a Friday morning?’

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Lila picked up her glass of water and took a long, cooling swig. It was deceptive, this beautiful swimming pool, which – she still couldn’t quite believe – was owned by Charlie’s boyfriend. The sky outside had turned tumultuous, pre-empting the pall of winter darkness due within the next hour, and yet the lighting and warmth in the pool room was cosy and – now Lila was under intense scrutiny from her cousin – almost stifling. ‘It’s a TV set. It’s going to be one of BBC One’s flagship dramas.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘And you told me that the bus wasn’t busy in the off-season. Winston said they’ll be doing the location filming over the next few months, and we won’t be needed for the interior shoots which are all happening in studios in Bristol. So it won’t be all the time. Week-blocks, depending on when the locations are booked in. But it will mean Gertie gets all the prestige of being part of the set, and she – we – will get to travel to different parts of Cornwall, so she’ll get noticed, too. And we might get to serve Toby Welsh.’ She flapped her hand in front of her face, imagining those dark curls bobbing before her, his beautiful eyes finding hers. He definitely had good eyes – she didn’t think you could be a successful actor without expressive eyes. And so what if he’d turned out to be the killer in that hospital drama he’d been in? That just proved how talented he was.

Charlie hadn’t shot back another question, and Lila experienced a brief blossoming of hope. She knew, the moment she’d shaken hands with Winston, said ‘great’ when he’d told her he’d get his assistant Marcie to draw up a contract and get it sent over, that she had made a mistake. It wasn’t her bus to offer, and she had known Charlie would take some persuading, to say the least. Now she had to practise that selling technique she had been limbering up on board the bus, and show Charlie how good an idea it was. If it was too late to backtrack – and she didn’t want to incur the wrath of a powerful TV producer, even if it was unlikely she’d ever see him again – then she had to get Charlie to come round to her way of thinking.

‘What is this Estelle about again?’ Charlie asked, narrowing her eyes at Lila.

‘It’s an atmospheric gothic ghost story, about two brothers who inherit this big, spooky Cornish house and move in only to discover it’s haunted by the spirit of one of the previous occupants, Estelle. They have to unravel why she’s haunting it, and of course they get embroiled in all the local goings-on in the tiny Cornish village, and there’s drama and romance and betrayal. Doesn’t it sound amazing?’ To be honest, Lila sometimes found it hard to see past the dodgy outfits and hats, or the curly wigs they all seemed to wear in period dramas, but any kind of TV set was bound to be an exciting place to work.

‘It sounds interesting,’ Charlie murmured, chewing her lip and then rolling on to her back to stare up at the ceiling.

‘Doesn’t it?’ Lila said. ‘And it’s not just Toby Welsh starring in it, but Aria Lundberg, that impossibly beautiful American-Scandinavian actress. It’s a big deal, Charlie. And we have a chance to be part of it. You never know, we might even get a chance to be in it! Like as an extra, or something.’

‘And this producer person, Winston?’ Charlie asked, ignoring her last comment. Lila nodded encouragingly. ‘He said he’d do a press release about our involvement? It’s not a secret?’

Lila shook her head. ‘He said part of his ethos for this shoot is using as many local suppliers as possible, to make it a truly Cornish series – aside from the bits in Bristol, of course – but a lot of it’s being shot down here, and he wants everyone to know that this is a production not just set in Cornwall, but about and for Cornwall.’ She pressed her hand against her chest as she repeated his passionate statement.

Charlie snorted. ‘You fell for that?’

‘I believed him,’ she said quietly, her hope fizzling to nothing. Clara’s face popped into her head, the fury in her eyes matching her words. Lila pushed it out again.

Charlie sighed and rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. ‘You have to let me think about it. It’s a big change for Gertie.’

‘But it could be an amazing one,’ Lila said, kicking a leg up into the air. ‘And just imagine, when it’s over you can come back to Porthgolow, do all the summer food markets with this under your belt. Think of all the stories you’ll have to tell, the publicity that will continue even once filming has finished. I’m sure there’ll be some restrictions on what we can add to the socials, but we can check that out with Winston. Gertie will love it.’

‘Gertie’s a bus,’ Charlie said. ‘She doesn’t have the capacity for love.’

Lila gasped. ‘Charlie, why would you say such a thing? She’s your beloved bus!’

Charlie wrinkled her nose and looked at Lila, her expression softening ever so slightly. ‘This is a crazy, crazy thing, Delilah. You do realize that, don’t you?’

Lila nodded. She was holding her breath, crossing her fingers behind her back and sending a prayer to the gods of fate, which she did quite often, even though she didn’t know exactly who they were.

‘I mean,’ Charlie continued, ‘if anyone was going to get themselves embroiled in a TV production within days of arriving somewhere, it would be you. And in sleepy little Porthgolow, too. You’re some kind of drama magnet, aren’t you?’

‘That’s not always a good thing,’ Lila said. ‘But on this occasion, I think it really could be.’

‘There will be loads of practicalities to sort out,’ Charlie added. ‘When exactly we’re needed, where we’ll be based, when I can fit my tours in around it. The food market can cope without Gertie, especially as it’s only once a month at the moment, but when summer comes …’

‘She’ll be needed here. I totally get that. So?’ Lila glanced up as the first raindrops hit the windows. It was properly dark outside now, and she thought that the inside, ironically, must look like a stage set to anyone looking in: they were lit up behind glass walls for all the world to see. She pictured a ghostly figure on the cliff top in the dark and the rain, only fragments of the moon appearing through the clouds to illuminate her. She shuddered. It was going to be an amazing drama, and now Lila knew about it, she desperately wanted to be part of it. ‘What do you think?’

‘I need to sleep on it,’ Charlie said. ‘And we’ve got massages booked. After this revelation I am sorely in need of one, and I’m sure you are, too.’ She sat up and swung her legs over her lounger, then held out her hand to Lila. ‘Television catering proposition aside, you did a great job of looking after Gertie today. You are a complete liability, obviously,’ she added, smiling, ‘but you’re my liability. Let’s go and get the stress pummelled out of us, and I’ll think about it some more.’

Lila took Charlie’s hand and let her pull her to her feet. She should be feeling relieved: Charlie could easily have said a point-blank ‘no’ and then Lila would have been in serious trouble. But she was hanging on by a thread. She had shaken Winston’s hand, said it would be no problem, basically conveyed to him that it was a done deal. But if Charlie agreed to it, she wouldn’t have to admit to her that that was what she’d done.

If she could manage both sides for a couple more days, then everything would be fine and Lila, Charlie and Gertie could embark on the adventure of their lives. The alternative wasn’t worth thinking about, and so, Lila decided, as she shrugged on the impossibly soft robe and followed her cousin through the door that led to the spa, she wouldn’t. It was much better to focus on the positives.

‘Toby Welsh?’ Juliette squealed, sending Marmite and Daniel’s German shepherd, Jasper, into a frenzy. ‘Come on, Char, you have to say yes! And you have to let me help out, too. I’m sure there’s room for all three of us, and if it’s busy, you’ll need all hands on deck.’ She elbowed Lila in the side and gave her a conspiratorial smile. Lila smiled back and picked up a stick from the damp sand, throwing it in the direction of the dogs, who had raced off to inspect an ugly mound of seaweed close to the water.

It was the day after her meeting with Winston Thorpe, the day after her admission to Charlie and, despite sleeping like a log after the session at the Crystal Waters Spa Hotel, including the best massage she’d ever had, Lila was worried. She’d had a text from Winston saying he was bringing a contract for her to sign that afternoon, which meant that Lila had to convince Charlie by then, and then somehow also convince her that the production team moved so quickly that they had magicked up a contract in only a couple of hours. Juliette, though, was doing a good job of helping her cause.

‘It’s a big change, Jules,’ Charlie said. ‘I feel like I’ve got a routine established with Gertie now, and I don’t want to mess it about too much in case we lose all our regulars.’

‘Think of it as a hiatus,’ Juliette said. ‘It’s only for a few months, right, Lila? And then Gertie comes sailing back into Porthgolow, famous for being the only Cornish Cream Tea Bus in the world, and the star of a BBC production. OK, she’s not going to star in the show, but she’ll be on set, hobnobbing with the talent. It’s a scintillating prospect.’

‘Scintillating?’ Lila asked.

Juliette shrugged. ‘I’m trying to stop using the word “stupendous”. I seem to say it all the time, after Jonah started using it to describe the Porthgolow burgers. Scintillating is a bit over the top, though.’

‘I don’t think it is,’ Lila said. ‘I think scintillating is the perfect description, Jules.’

Charlie had often pointed out their physical similarities. They were both dark-haired, petite, bright-eyed (Lila couldn’t help adding ‘bushy-tailed’ to the end of that description) but where Juliette’s skin caught the sun easily, perhaps thanks to her French roots, Lila was decidedly Celtic, with her patchwork of dark freckles and pale skin beneath. An old boyfriend had told her she was like Bambi, with big dark eyes, spots and gangly limbs, as if she was always on the verge of falling over. Lila hadn’t believed him at the time, but if the falling over was more metaphorical than physical, then maybe he had a point.

She opened the dictionary app on her phone. ‘Scintillating,’ she read aloud. ‘Sparkling or shining brightly. That is exactly what this opportunity is doing, Charlie. Shining brightly like a beacon in your and Gertie’s future. Just think of the possibility, the fun, the celebrity selfie opportunities! We could serve a cream tea to Toby Welsh. And I bet he’s not the only gorgeous actor in the cast – there are two brothers in the plot, for starters. I know you’ve got Daniel now, but think of me. Think of poor, single, lonely me. Except, obviously, it’s not all about me – it’s hardly about me at all. It’s you, and Gertie, the future of the Cornish Cream Tea Bus.’ She turned in a circle, arms stretched towards the sky, and tripped over Marmite as he came racing back to join the party, only just stopping herself from landing face-first in the shallow water.

Juliette let out a loud laugh and Lila caught Charlie’s eye; she was smiling. Lila’s heart lifted.

‘Never mind Toby Welsh or Aria Lundberg,’ Charlie said. ‘It’s you who should be on that television set.’

Lila pranced and did a ridiculous curtsey in response. ‘So you think we should go? Let Gertie be part of the craft catering? Come on, Charlie, what’s the worst that can happen?’

Charlie sighed, looked out to sea and then crouched to ruffle Marmite’s damp fur. Lila fidgeted with impatience. Finally, she stood, walked up to Lila and took both her hands. ‘OK, Lila. You, me and Gertie. We’ll do this. But next time, please, please check with me before you commit us to anything. I know it’s a great opportunity that I would regret turning down, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy with the way it’s been thrust upon us. OK? Spontaneity will only get you so far, and then it’ll get you in trouble.’

‘Says the woman who turned her uncle’s bus into a café on a whim, and almost had a huge disaster at the fair on the field,’ Juliette chimed in. Lila resisted the urge to hug her, and then she didn’t. She embraced Charlie, and then Juliette, and then Marmite and Jasper, not caring that their noses were slick with sea water, and then when Daniel appeared at the edge of the beach wearing a smart shirt and trousers, she ran over to him and, without saying anything, hugged him, too.

They were going to be part of Estelle. Suddenly, coming to Cornwall felt as if it had been the best idea in the world, because that world was now opening up in front of her with endless, breathtaking possibility – and Lila wasn’t just talking about the magnificent Cornish coastline.

Chapter Five

Once Charlie had decided they were committed to Estelle, their lives became one, never-ending to-do list. Lila shouldn’t have been surprised, Charlie was nothing if not determined, but the level of thought she put into everything made Lila feel like a scatty adolescent.

‘We can’t just sign the contract Winston sent over,’ Charlie said, the day after their beach walk with Juliette, while they were making a fresh batch of scones and some white chocolate and walnut cookies for the bus. Charlie had a habit of flinging her spatula around, and Marmite was sitting next to the fridge, waiting for any morsels of cake mix to come flying in his direction.

‘Why not?’ Lila asked. ‘It’ll have all the relevant details and clauses and whatnot, won’t it?’

‘Gertie’s reputation relies on more than a few bits of whatnot,’ Charlie said, using the spatula as a pointing finger. Lila wiped a splodge of mix off her nose and checked that her top had survived unscathed.

‘So what do we need to check?’

‘I’ve made a list. We need to see Winston.’

The list Charlie went through was long. Winston sat opposite them both, back on board Gertie, an early March rain pelting the windows as if it was desperate to get in out of the cold. Lila clasped her mug, enjoying the faint burning sensation of hot water through ceramic, and nibbled on a cookie while Charlie and Winston were locked in an intense discussion.

Charlie had thought of everything, ideas that hadn’t even crossed Lila’s mind when she was faced with the enticing prospect of entering the entertainment business, or in the days afterwards, when she’d had time to mull it over. Where would the bus be situated at each site, and what was the ground like? Charlie could guarantee it would be their biggest and heaviest food truck, even if it did have a winch. What were the hours, and would the bus be expected to stay on site for the duration of a particular location, or was there access for it to come and go? The price Winston was offering for several weeks’ use of the bus seemed eye-wateringly high to Lila, but Charlie didn’t bat an eyelid; instead she made a point of listing the regular events the bus would have to forgo while they were a part of the craft service.

By the end Lila felt entirely bamboozled, but Winston and Charlie shook hands, wearing matching, excited smiles. Winston agreed to amend the contract accordingly and said he’d post the copies, first class, the following day. They stepped down onto the sand, even though the rain was still falling, and waved a goodbye as he got back in his car and drove up the hill.

‘Monday the sixteenth of March,’ Charlie said. ‘That’s the first day at the first location, down near Cape Cornwall.’ She gave a wistful sigh.

‘It’s beautiful, is it, Cape Cornwall?’

‘The most.’ Charlie whirled round, making Lila jump. ‘Oh Lila, this is going to be amazing! Being on a television set on location in Cornwall. Do you think we’ll get to watch a lot of the action? Just think, Toby Welsh coming on board little old Gertie, dressed as Henry Bramerton, asking for a cream tea or a cappuccino. Do you think we should make Estelle-themed cakes? Gingerbread ghosts? I still don’t know which house they’re using for the Bramerton brothers’ new pile, do you?’

Lila shook her head slowly, not bothering to hide her amusement. ‘It’s a great opportunity, isn’t it? A really brilliant, really exciting thing.’

Charlie gave her a sheepish look and then flung her arms around Lila’s shoulders. ‘It took me a while to get there, obviously, but what you’ve done is perfect, Lila! Gertie gets a whole new lease of life, and then will be back in Porthgolow in time for high season. You are a marvel!’

Lila waved her praise away, but her heart swelled. A marvel? She’d never been called that. Nobody had had a good word to say about her in such a long time, and those bad ones, those truly awful things that Clara had said to her, and which she fully deserved, followed her around like a cloak tied tightly around her neck.

‘You really think so?’ she asked.

‘I know so. I do, Lila. You’re brilliant. Thank you.’

They walked up the hill to Charlie’s house, and it was a good thing the wind was strong and the rain, while no longer pelting, was still falling in steady, heavy drops, because Lila could use both of those as excuses for her watering eyes.

It was the morning of their first day, so early that it was still inky black outside, and Lila could not have slept for one more wink even if she’d started up her sleep stories app. They would be wearing aprons and have their hair tied back, and would most likely be almost invisible to the very busy cast and production team of Estelle, and yet the entire contents of Lila’s wheelie suitcase lay draped over the bed, armchair and rug in Charlie’s spare room. The wardrobe, inevitably, was empty.

Lila threw herself out of bed and, after a shower, began trying on clothes. If she’d had an inkling that this day was coming before she’d made the journey from London, the contents of her suitcase would have been very different. She tried on an emerald top over skinny, ripped jeans, then a sheer silver affair, then a tight crimson blouse with lace detail. Then she remembered that the aprons were the same colour as Gertie’s paintwork. In the end she pulled on a tight black pullover with cut-outs in the sleeves and a low neckline, giving her ample scope to adorn herself with chunky silver necklaces and earrings. She tied her dark hair back in a high ponytail, and added a generous flick of eyeliner.

Charlie was waiting in the living room, her smile unable to disguise the nervous energy Lila knew was bubbling beneath the surface. She knew because she had it too. Gertie was fully stocked, and with a few new treats that hadn’t, before today, been sold on the Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Gertie had also been given a wash in the car park of Daniel’s hotel, a hose and a broom making quick – but very soggy – work of the acres of red paintwork. The bus was ready, and so were they. They were actually doing this.

It was still dark when they left. Once they got off the main route, the roads were tiny and perilous, so Charlie had to creep the bus along them as if she was sneaking up on an enemy. Lila sat at one of the downstairs tables with Marmite on her lap.

‘Are you sure we’re allowed to bring him?’ she asked, pushing the dog’s soft fur into a parting on his forehead and chuckling when he gave her a mournful look, as if he knew exactly what kind of ridicule she was subjecting him to.

‘Winston said it was fine: apparently it’s good to have mascots sometimes, and animals can be a calming influence on set, so long as you’re not trying to make them behave on screen.’

‘I’m happy you’re not left out,’ Lila cooed at Marmite. ‘Who could possibly not want you? Everyone will want you. Who do you think we should make friends with first? Toby or Aria? You’ll help, won’t you, puppy?’

‘My dog is not a dating accessory,’ Charlie said, laughing.

‘He’s a good ice-breaker, though. I’ve loved getting to know him.’ Lila stared out of the window, where a thin band of gold was slowly widening above the shadowy landscape. ‘Thank you, Charlie, for letting me stay on.’

‘I could hardly make you go home when you’ve got us into this, could I?’

‘You could have done it by yourself – or brought Juliette. She was dying to come, I could tell.’

‘Jules is busy with her own business. She’s helped out with the Cornish Cream Tea Bus in the past, and I did talk to her about it, but she’s got lots of marketing contracts at the moment. She’s happy with photos and the odd titbit of gossip – of course without breaking any of Winston’s rules.’

There was a long list of things they couldn’t do once they were there: no photos of any of the cast on set or any of the location set-ups, and no sharing details – not even the tiniest morsel – of the plot that they gleaned along the way. It was restrictive, but Lila knew why. She’d seen enough long-lens photos of various dramas on the Daily Mail website, and she hated the thought of being one of those vultures, leeching all the information, and all the fun, out of it. If she happened to find out any plot details, she would keep them entirely to herself.

By the time they reached the turn-off, blocked by a man in a hi-vis jacket and a clipboard, the sun was hovering above the fields, a mist shrouding the Cornish countryside and the sea beyond in a low, glistening veil. It was breathtaking. Lila would have run up the stairs to get a better view, had she not been called on by Charlie to present herself to the guard ticking them off his list of authorized personnel. So far, so inconspicuous, but then Lila knew they wouldn’t want a huge sign announcing them, that they would want to film in as much peace as possible. News was bound to get out about the production soon enough. She wondered if she’d have the opportunity to kick a few Daily Mail photographers, or perhaps throw jugs of water over them. She knew Gertie had a good stock of jugs – and teapots – on board.

As Charlie inched the bus down the hill towards the sea, the land dropping steeply ahead of them, Lila was reminded of country fairs, the times she’d taken short-cuts behind the trucks, generators pumping, metal coupling-heads sticking out. There were a lot of vans and lorries, people hurrying in different directions, the whole place a hive of activity. It didn’t look disorganized, but it didn’t scream of glamour, either. There was no area cordoned off that she could see, with cameras and bounce boards and preening actors, but it was still early.

‘Do you think the starring actors have their own trailers?’ Charlie asked. ‘Huge ones with double beds and showers and kitchens, even though all the food is provided for them and they don’t have to lift a finger?’

‘Isn’t that more in America?’ Lila peered at a row of boxy vehicles over to the left. ‘Maybe here they’re more like luxury caravans?’

‘There must be a catering area, though. Hang on.’ She leaned out of the window and spoke to a young woman in a hi-vis coat, her hair frizzing around her temples in the damp air. ‘Yup,’ she said, putting Gertie in gear. ‘Just down here and to the right.’

Charlie expertly parked the double-decker in the space she was directed to, and Lila stood up and surveyed their surroundings. They were next to a long white marquee with plastic windows, and a couple of smaller food trucks – one serving coffee, and one which displayed a selection of fruit, chocolate bars and packets of crisps. Ahead of the bus, the rows of trucks and vehicles continued, but between those, Lila caught glimpses of the sea, turning from grey to blue in the early morning light.

Charlie unlocked Gertie’s door. The air smelled of damp vegetation, salt, and a comforting aroma that reminded Lila of stews at her grandparents’ house during the winter.

‘Cornwall isn’t short of stunning views,’ Charlie murmured, before walking back to the kitchen. ‘Come on, let’s get ready.’

Ten minutes later, scones were warming in the oven and the coffee machine was ready for action. Charlie was telling Lila – unnecessarily, because it was a trick she was well aware of – that she always made a coffee for herself first thing, not only so she had a caffeine hit, but also so the bus would smell enticing the moment anyone walked on board, when they were joined by a woman with short blonde hair, wearing jeans, a plaid shirt and a warm-looking gilet.

‘Welcome to the Cornish Cream Tea Bus,’ Lila said with a flourish. ‘What can I get you?’

‘I’m Em, the catering manager,’ the woman replied, shaking Lila’s hand and then Charlie’s. ‘Winston must have mentioned me?’

‘Yes of course,’ Charlie said. ‘This all looks wonderful,’ she added, gesturing out of the window. Lila wouldn’t have described a catering tent and a coffee stop as ‘wonderful’, but she knew it was important to make a good impression.

Em nodded, glancing at the bus’s tiny kitchen, and then at Marmite, who was sitting on the driver’s seat. She folded her arms. ‘It’s great to have you here,’ she said, without an ounce of enthusiasm. ‘It is all a bit unorthodox, having you as well as the catering and craft services, but Winston was adamant you had to come, and it does fit in with our “keeping it local” ethos. I suppose he’s told you how this all works?’

‘We’re here for today’s filming, and we’re to serve anyone who comes on board.’

‘Winston said he’d agreed with you that you could go off site at the end of each day?’ Em rubbed her forehead, and Lila wondered whether she was making a point of seeming anguished.

‘He did,’ Charlie said, slowly, ‘but if that’s going to be a problem …’

‘We do like as little disruption as possible, once everyone’s in place. If you have another way of getting here tomorrow, we can get a car to take you home tonight, and you can leave the bus on site.’

Lila bit back a gasp. No way would Charlie leave Gertie so far away.

‘There’s good security, I presume?’ Charlie asked, and when Em nodded, her cousin’s smile was wide. ‘Then of course that’s fine. I’ve been through the schedule with Winston, and he knows the few days the bus is unavailable.’

‘Excellent. Thank you for accommodating us.’ She gave them both a small but genuine-seeming smile. ‘If you’ve got a moment, I’d like you to meet the rest of the catering team.’

‘Sure,’ Charlie said and, making sure Marmite was secure in the bus’s cab, followed Em off the bus. Lila took up the rear, wrapping her arms around her to try and shield herself from the biting, cliff-top wind.

Em led them into the large white marquee and began the introductions. It seemed as though there were hundreds of people, and Lila was worried she wouldn’t remember any names, except for Mina, who was the head chef. She was as tall as Charlie and had plum-coloured hair and pale, ghostly lips, and laughed uproariously at almost anything. They all seemed friendly, and they were interested in the bus, asking how Charlie developed her recipes and about the pitfalls of working in such a tiny kitchen.

‘I’m Max,’ said a tall, slightly pudgy man in jeans and a black T-shirt. He wasn’t wearing chefs’ whites like several of the others, and he was only about Lila’s age. ‘This your first set?’ he asked.

‘Is it that obvious?’ Lila replied, grinning at him. He seemed more nervous than she was, though he, too, had that same excited look in his blue eyes, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually here. ‘What about you?’

‘Third,’ he said. ‘But it’s by far the biggest. We catered for an episode of a countryside documentary last year, but the crew was much smaller, and then there was an indie film in Portreath, but it was only one scene, so that was a few days. This is massive by comparison.’

‘What does your company do the rest of the time? Or are you a new member of staff?’

Max shrugged. He had very fair hair, and smile lines round his mouth and eyes that suggested he was often in a good mood. ‘Corporate events, mostly. The set gigs are the best part, though. I can’t believe Aria Lundberg’s going to be here!’

‘Or Toby Welsh,’ Lila added. ‘It’s madness!’

‘If you need any pointers, about what to do and what not to do – as I said, I’m not that much of an expert, but I’ll help if I can.’

‘Thanks, Max,’ Lila said. ‘That’s very kind of you. I feel like a rabbit in the headlights, albeit a very happy one.’

They swapped smiles just as Charlie grabbed her arm. ‘We can go and have a look at the kitchens,’ she said in a stage whisper.

‘Wow,’ Lila replied, deadpan. ‘The thrill.’ She laughed when Charlie shot her a look. ‘Kidding. Of course I want to see them. But we’ve only got a few minutes, or our scones will burn.’

‘Two minutes,’ Charlie said, holding her fingers up. ‘This is so cool, Lila.’

‘And we haven’t even met any actors yet,’ Lila added, as she waved goodbye to Max and Charlie dragged her towards a gap in the marquee wall. The comforting smell of stew was much stronger here, and Lila wondered if she’d be able to sneak a taste, just like she used to at her grandparents’ house.

Once they were back on the bus, Lila wielded an oven glove and began moving the scones to the cooling rack. ‘You’re really OK about leaving Gertie here?’

‘She’ll probably be more secure here than she would be on Porthgolow beach. You don’t need to worry about Gertie. Be your sparkling, dynamic self and woo people on board to eat all our cakes.’

‘That is exactly what I’m going to do,’ Lila agreed. ‘We don’t want people visiting the coffee van, we want them all in here. Imagine if we get to meet Toby Welsh on our first day!’

Charlie clapped her hands together and gave a very girly squeak, and Lila decided, then and there, that as long as someone came on to the bus, she would count the day as a success.

An hour later, she, Charlie and Marmite had served three members of the catering team they had met earlier, and a group of exuberant runners who were all at least five years younger than Lila and who greeted them with vigorous handshakes, then made a huge dent in the tower of chocolate brownies.

‘Em said we were a bit unorthodox, so maybe the cast are going with what they’re familiar with,’ Charlie said, readjusting a muffin on a paisley cake stand.

Lila glanced out of the window, to where a small queue had formed at the coffee van. None of them was wearing period clothing, as far as she could see.

‘But surely the fact that we’re unusual means we should have more custom,’ Lila said. ‘Don’t you always investigate new things? Thinking about it, you brought new things to Porthgolow and revolutionized the village, so I’m asking the wrong person.’ She started to make her third cappuccino.

‘Revolutionized is a bit strong,’ Charlie replied. ‘Anyway, they’re obviously just busy. You know, filming.’

‘I want to meet them all, though. I want to know how it works – I want to see the scripts. I have so many questions! I wonder what scene they’re filming right now? Someone striding through the water wearing knee-high leather boots and a tight, midnight-blue waistcoat, riding crop in hand.’ Lila sighed dreamily.

‘Would that someone you’re imagining be Toby Welsh? And what time period do you think this is? Your vision sounds a bit S&M.’

‘Midnight-blue waistcoats are not S&M,’ Lila shot back, laughing. ‘Not unless they’re made of leather, have holes or spikes or metal rings, and are accompanied by a gimp mask …’ Her words trailed off as Charlie’s eyes widened and she clamped her lips shut, trying not to laugh. ‘Let me guess,’ Lila murmured, ‘we have a customer?’

‘Got it in one,’ Charlie said, striding past her and holding out her hand. ‘Welcome to the Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Would you like to take a seat?’

Lila spun round, wondering how scarlet her cheeks had gone, and drank in the sight of their visitors.

There were two of them, a man and a woman. They were both, she estimated, under thirty, and both eminently filmable. The woman was petite, with skin as pale as Lila’s and hair that curled in delicate blonde wisps around her face. She had a cute snub nose and eyes of deep, pooling blue. The man was tall, perhaps six foot, and slender, but with strong-looking shoulders and an upright posture. His hair was the colour of wet sand, and he had strong features: a long, elegant nose and high cheekbones. The eyes that met hers above his warm smile were hazel, but on the side of brown, rather than green. Under the glimmer of the bus’s fairy lights, they seemed almost golden.

Actors, Lila concluded. They were definitely actors. Even here, wearing casual clothes – jeans and jumpers – it was obvious. They were mesmerizing.

‘We haven’t got long,’ the woman said, in a soft, dancing voice. ‘But we thought we’d come and say hello. What a beautiful bus!’

‘We didn’t know you’d be here until a couple of days ago,’ the man added, with a hint of an accent that Lila couldn’t quite place. ‘Winston said he was sourcing everything from nearby, and the Cornish Cream Tea Bus certainly fits the bill. I’m Sam.’ He held out his hand to Lila.

‘And I’m Keeley,’ added the woman.

‘Hello,’ Charlie said. ‘It’s lovely to meet you. Are you … cast members?’ She had obviously come to the same conclusion as Lila.

‘We are,’ Keeley replied. ‘This is the younger Bramerton brother, Robert, and I play Estelle.’ She smiled, her blue eyes bright.

‘Ooh, you’re the title character?’ Lila asked. ‘Wow! Charlie and I are very happy to meet you. I’m Delilah – Lila. And the bus is Gertie, and she – and we – are entirely at your service.’ She resisted the urge to curtsey, but she couldn’t deny that she was starstruck, even if she hadn’t heard of Sam or Keeley before this moment.

Sam’s laugh was a low rumble. ‘If that’s the case, then a black coffee wouldn’t go amiss. Double shot, if possible.’

‘Of course,’ Lila said. ‘What about you, Keeley?’

‘Do you have green tea?’

‘Coming right up,’ Charlie replied. ‘Can I tempt either of you to a pastry or a muffin? We’ve made breakfast muffins filled with fruit and seeds. They’re lower carb and sugar than usual, and packed full of energy.’

Sam and Keeley eyed the cake stands longingly.

‘Why don’t you share one?’ Lila said, and before either of them could respond she cut a muffin in half and put the portions in separate paper bags. ‘You’re going to be outside all day, and it’s not the balmiest morning.’ She gestured out of the window where the mist had lifted and the weak sun was hitting the water as if it couldn’t quite be bothered.

Charlie folded her arms. ‘I didn’t know you had mothering instincts, Lila. But I approve.’

‘So do I,’ Sam said, taking his coffee and half a muffin, and nodding at Lila in thanks, his strangely glowing eyes holding hers. ‘Mothering instincts and an in-depth knowledge of S&M. I’m intrigued.’

Lila’s cheeks heated, and she could only stare as Sam gave her a final, slightly hesitant smile and walked off the bus.

‘Thank you,’ Keeley said. ‘I’ll definitely be back. I want to know more about the bus, and I’d love to meet that guy hiding up at the front.’ She pointed at Marmite, who was sitting with his ear folded over, dark eyes trained on this new person as if she was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. Lila could sympathize.

‘You’re welcome – any time,’ she gushed, and Charlie nodded her agreement.

Once they were alone, Lila bounded up to Charlie and raised her hand for a high-five. Charlie hit it with enthusiasm. ‘Lead actors, Charlie,’ she said. ‘Wow. Don’t you think it went well?’

‘S&M comment aside,’ Charlie replied wryly, ‘I think it was a total success.’

Chapter Six

People visited the bus in dribs and drabs throughout the rest of the day. It was mostly crew members, shivering in fingerless gloves and desperate for a coffee. Some asked questions about the bus, while others were so lost in their own worlds that they barely seemed to notice what they’d walked onto. Charlie and Lila were enthusiastic, suggesting cakes or pastries, and while a few left with paper bags full of treats, nobody stayed long enough to sit down, have a Cornish cream tea or chat about the production.

Lila shouldn’t have been disappointed – they were working, after all, and it wasn’t like the bus’s usual occupation, catering to people on holiday or a day out. On this television set, Gertie was a utilitarian vehicle rather than a pleasure cruiser. But Charlie seemed upbeat, and as they were driven home in a luxurious Mercedes by Mike, one of the team’s drivers, and then set about making cakes and sausage rolls, muffins made from ground almonds, catering to a more takeaway-orientated – and more health-conscious – clientele, Lila’s mood improved. It was only the first day – there was plenty of time for things to get more exciting.

The following morning, Lila drove them to set in her Volvo, and Gertie was safely in place when they arrived. They laid out their new offerings, put the radio on low and sang along quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone. The starts were earlier than Lila was used to, but the drive over Cornwall’s patchwork-quilt landscape made it more than bearable.

The day was mist-free, the sky a glorious blue as nighttime receded. Lila wanted to ask someone how they got the scene continuity right when the weather was so changeable. If she was honest, she wanted to ask a hundred things of everyone on set: the make-up artists, the cameramen, the lighting director. She wanted to grill Keeley about whether the costumes were comfortable and how she channelled herself into the role of Estelle. She wanted to ask Sam what techniques he had for memorizing his lines, and how nervous he got before takes. It was like working in a chocolatiers without being able to try anything: it was all just out of reach.

Keeley and Sam reappeared that morning, and Lila felt herself blush as she recalled the S&M discussion and Sam’s quiet amusement. She wondered why she couldn’t just shrug the moment off, as she usually did. She didn’t often feel so embarrassed. Keeley walked up to the cab and held her hand out to Marmite, who gladly allowed himself to be the centre of attention. Keeley sneezed once, twice, three times.

‘Are you OK?’ Charlie asked. ‘All that sea air hasn’t got to you already, has it?’

Keeley shook her head. ‘I’m allergic to dogs.’

‘Oh no! Then we should never—’

Keeley waved away Charlie’s concern. ‘I can’t have one of my own, but the sneezing and itchy eyes are worth it occasionally, and especially with this fluffster. What’s his name?’

‘Marmite,’ Charlie said. ‘He’s a Yorkipoo.’

‘Not sure Gregor will be over the moon if you arrive on set with bloodshot eyes,’ Sam said, thanking Lila as she handed him a black, double-shot Americano. One thing she was good at was remembering regular orders, especially when the regulars themselves were so memorable.

‘It doesn’t last long, and Perry will banish the redness in make-up,’ Keeley replied.

‘Do you have a whole trailer thing for make-up?’ Lila asked, using their conversation as her way in.

‘We do,’ Sam confirmed. ‘We’re both due there after this. Speaking of which—’

‘So do you have to wear a lot of it, too?’ Lila cut in, peering at Sam’s smooth skin. ‘Like what?’

Sam ran his hand through his wet-sand hair. ‘Powder, a bit of eye make-up. For the guys it’s more about enhancing our features on screen, taking away any shine. It’s not like this is Lord of the Rings or anything: I don’t have to transform into an elf.’

‘That’s a pity,’ Lila said. ‘I think you’d look quite good as an elf. You have the right bone structure.’ He gave her a bemused look, and Lila’s cheeks heated for a second time. She wondered what was wrong with her. ‘Sorry, I … would you like an almond muffin? Flour free, low carb.’

‘We’ll have to have one each,’ Keeley said. ‘You should have seen Sam’s forlorn little face after he’d wolfed down his half in about three bites yesterday.’

‘Forlorn is a bit of an exaggeration,’ Sam grinned.

‘Maybe,’ Keeley replied, smiling. ‘Look after this guy for me, and I’ll pick us one out each.’ She lifted Marmite into Sam’s arms, and sneezed four times in quick succession. Sam gave the dog an indulgent smile, and Marmite stared up at him, then pawed at his chin.

‘All right, doggo,’ he murmured. Lila busied herself at the coffee machine, trying not to let the sight of a seriously attractive man cuddling a cute dog turn her to mush. It would make a perfect Instagram photo, except she wasn’t allowed to take photos of the cast and plaster them all over the internet.

When they’d gone, Lila popped a mini cheese and onion puff in her mouth, and let it dissolve on her tongue before she spoke. ‘Neither of them seems to have any kind of ego, which is odd, for actors, isn’t it?’

Charlie frowned. ‘I don’t think you have to have an ego to be an actor, just like you don’t have to be an actor to have an ego. Look at Daniel,’ she added, grinning. ‘He’s got enough confidence for most of Porthgolow. And neither of us recognized Sam or Keeley, so maybe they’ve not experienced the adoration that comes with being well known?’

‘Maybe,’ Lila mused. ‘I’m going to ask Keeley when I get a chance. There’s lots of waiting around on TV sets, isn’t there? Hopefully she’ll spend some time here.’

‘And what about Sam?’ Charlie asked, amusement in her voice.

Lila ignored it. ‘He seems nice. A bit unsure of himself. Perhaps this is his first big role and he’s extra nervous. Maybe he’s—’

‘Spent a lot of time thinking about him, have you?’

Lila rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve thought about everyone, Charlie. The list of questions I have is longer than the list you had for Winston before we started this.’

‘Fair point,’ Charlie said, laughing. ‘Just pick your moments. We don’t want to get thrown off the set because you let your curiosity get the better of you.’

‘Honestly, Charlie, you have no idea how hard I’m working to stop that from happening. Calamitous Delilah is firmly locked away and, for now, the key is nowhere to be found.’

All Lila’s hard-fought professionalism nearly evaporated on Wednesday, when Toby Welsh and Aria Lundberg graced Gertie with their presence. She almost coughed up her mouthful of coffee when they stepped on board, and she heard Charlie squeak beside her.

If Lila thought Sam and Keeley were aesthetically impressive human beings, then Toby and Aria were in another league. They were both wearing their Estelle costumes, and Toby looked beyond dashing in inky-black breeches, waistcoat and coat, a snowy-white shirt and cravat, and black boots. His dark hair was curled expertly into lush, loose waves, and even with a visible coating of powder and what looked suspiciously like eyeliner, he was a perfect, masculine specimen.

Aria was, quite simply, a princess. Her black hair was piled beautifully on top of her head, and her smile was soft but dazzling. Her dress, in the palest pink, was straight out of an original Disney sketch of Sleeping Beauty.

‘Can I, I mean … hello. How can I … what would you like?’ Charlie stuttered.

Neither Toby nor Aria seemed to notice her fumble. Lila wondered if they’d been told to keep their expressions to a minimum between scenes so as not to crack the powder. But then Toby strode forward and held out his hand, his dark eyes warm.

‘Hi, I’m Toby, and this is Aria. We’ve heard a lot about – Gertie, isn’t it? And even more about your muffins.’

‘Made with ground almonds,’ Aria added, as if it was a magical ingredient. ‘We have to try them.’

‘Of course,’ Charlie said, recovering her composure. ‘Would you like any drinks to go with those?’

‘Tea,’ Aria replied, ‘builders’ please. Strong as you like.’ Her accent was American, but with a Scandinavian lilt, and Lila added accent training to her list of questions.

‘I’d love a cappuccino if poss,’ Toby added, rubbing his hands together. ‘Warm us up a bit before we head back out there.’

‘Is it going well?’ Lila asked.

‘So far. It’s always troublesome, working with outside elements that have no sympathy for what you’re trying to achieve, but Cornwall’s being a peach today. The sunshine is nice, but a bit misleading. I envy you, being tucked away in here with an endless supply of hot drinks and sausage rolls.’

‘You’re welcome any time, of course. Whenever you get a breather, we’ll be waiting.’ Lila smiled at him. This was Toby Welsh. The Toby Welsh, and she was talking to him. She wiped her palms surreptitiously down her apron.

‘It’s much more homely than the catering tent, where you can’t escape the wind however hard you try. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?’

‘I’m Lila, and this is my cousin Charlie.’

‘Hello,’ Charlie said. ‘Drinks are coming up.’

‘Gertie is a cosy bus,’ Lila continued, imagining her and Toby snuggled up on a sofa together in front of a roaring fire. She was pretty sure she could make Toby feel cosy, if that was what he was after.

‘With fairy lights, no less.’ His eyes flashed with amusement, and Lila had the sense that he was letting her in on some conspiracy, that they were on the same side.

‘I think she’s beautiful,’ Aria said, accepting her tea from Charlie and then pushing her full skirt beneath one of the tables and sitting down. Toby shrugged, and sat opposite her – there was no room alongside Aria’s dress for anyone else.

Charlie and Lila exchanged a look. They had two of the country’s best-known actors sitting at one of their tables. Charlie spent an inordinately long time arranging two muffins on plates, before placing them on the table.

‘Thank you,’ Aria said. ‘It’s lovely to have a break somewhere other than our trailers.’

‘You’re so welcome,’ Charlie gushed.

‘How did you end up running a café on a bus?’ Aria asked, before tearing off a chunk of muffin and nibbling it daintily.

As Charlie gave her a potted version of how the Cornish Cream Tea Bus came into being – Lila wondered if she ever got bored of telling that story – Lila and Toby exchanged smiles.

‘How much set work have you done?’ he asked. ‘I would have thought your bus would be a crowd-pleaser wherever you end up.’

‘This is our first week of our first ever set. And I’ve actually only been working on Gertie a few weeks.’

Toby raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh. So, not an old hand – not that old hand is something that could ever be said of you, regardless. Have you watched any of the filming?’

Lila shook her head. ‘No, we’ve … we have to stay here, to serve anyone who comes on board.’

‘You can’t pass up the chance, though,’ Toby said, mock sternly. ‘Even I still get overawed by large-scale operations like this, the work and effort that goes into making eight hours of drama. You have to get someone to give you a tour – to get a sense of the scale of it. And you must come and watch the filming. Take it in turns, sneak down to see it. If nobody’s free to show you round, then explore by yourself. If anyone asks what you’re doing, you can always say you’re lost.’ He shrugged, nonchalant, but Lila saw the glint of mischief in his eyes and felt a thrill of excitement.

‘You’re actively encouraging me to misbehave?’ she asked. ‘To leave my post and wander around, spying on everyone while they’re hard at work?’

Toby laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose I am. I think you’ll have a lot more fun that way.’

‘What about the scripts?’ Lila said.

‘What about them?’

‘Can I see them?’ She knew it was a bold move but she didn’t care.

Toby gave her a steady stare. ‘I might be able to get you one – you’ve signed the disclaimer, I presume?’

Lila nodded and held her hands up. ‘Purely my own curiosity. I just want to know the story.’

‘Good. Then I will actively encourage that, too. And maybe one day when I’m free, I can give you a tour and we can do some spying together.’

‘I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t get very far,’ Lila countered. ‘You’re not exactly inconspicuous, seeing as how you’re the star of the show.’

‘One of them,’ Toby said, holding a hand up. ‘This is an ensemble cast, and I rather fear my younger, greener co-stars are going to act me out of the park. Keeley Klein and Sam Magee, sneaking up on the inside like the dark horses that they are.’ He sat back, and then looked down at his muffin, as if he’d only just remembered it. He took a huge bite.

‘Keeley and Sam are going to be wonderful,’ Aria added. ‘After only being in a couple of scenes with them, you just know, don’t you, Toby?’

‘But they need their earnestness knocking out of them,’ Toby mumbled through his mouthful. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got that in hand.’ He put the last, giant piece of muffin in his mouth, and wiped his fingers on a napkin.

‘We need to get back,’ Aria said, sliding out from the bench and standing. Even with her huge skirts she was effortlessly elegant, as if she glided, rather than walked, everywhere.

‘Lovely to meet you both,’ Toby added. ‘I’m sure we’ll be back soon, and don’t forget what I said, Lila. Don’t stay cooped up in here the whole time – go and explore.’ He gave her and then Charlie a quick peck on the cheek, filling Lila’s senses with spicy male aftershave, then he and Aria said goodbye and walked off the bus.

‘Oh my God, Charlie,’ Lila said. ‘Did that really just happen?’

‘Sort of inevitable, considering where we are. But it is pretty special, isn’t it? Rubbing shoulders with the stars.’

‘Toby was amazing.’ Lila grinned at her cousin and shimmied down the aisle of the bus, picking up empty mugs and plates as she went. This was exactly what she’d been hoping for.

The next day the bus remained Toby- and Aria-free, and even Sam and Keeley must have been too busy to come and see them. Crew members whizzed on board for takeaway coffees and sausage rolls, but none of them stayed, and Lila and Charlie spent a lot of time chatting and cleaning, until their throats were hoarse and the inside of Gertie gleamed like a spaceship. It took all of Lila’s willpower not to eat her way methodically through the bus’s entire stock. She realized, at the end of their fourth day, that they had not made a single Cornish cream tea.

‘Is this going as you’d hoped?’ she asked Charlie, as they finished the close-down routine on Thursday night.

‘I wasn’t sure what to expect,’ Charlie said after a moment’s thought. ‘And I know we’ve had quiet periods, but sometimes that isn’t a bad thing. Money-wise, this gig is setting us up – you, me and Gertie – for a while, so we don’t have to worry, and in some respects, it’s money for nothing – money for barely anything, at least. So, what I’ve been thinking,’ she placed a hand on Lila’s arm, ‘is that it doesn’t need both of us. Not all the time.’

It took Lila a moment to reply. ‘You don’t need me? What am I meant to do?’ She thought of Toby and all his enticing suggestions, Keeley and her soft spot for Marmite, Sam with his mesmerizing eyes. Things had just started to get interesting; she didn’t want to leave the bus yet.

Charlie shook her head. ‘I was thinking that you could be in charge of Gertie, while she’s here. That would allow me to start planning some more tours, contact more vendors for the food markets, so that when we’re finished here and summer comes around, everything is sorted. It makes so much sense, Lila. Why don’t you do it alone tomorrow – Em said we could borrow one of the catering team if we need cover for lunch or breaks – and we can take the weekend to assess how it’s gone? We’ll get double the work done, and you’ll have more opportunities to talk to the cast.’

‘If they have time to come and see us,’ she said grudgingly, but her stomach was doing somersaults. Gertie, the set and all within it would be hers for the conquering. Without Charlie’s safe, watchful eye she might be able to sneak in some of her questions, maybe even take Toby up on his offer of a set tour. It would be her chance to shine.

The next day Lila was on the bus early, dressed in skinny black jeans, a coral-coloured blouse and sparkly Converse. The sun was only just rising above the distant horizon, and everything was a pale, silvery blue that made her catch her breath with wonder. The earth smelt sweet, the scent of early spring flowers reaching her through Gertie’s open door, and she opened all the windows, filling the bus with fresh air.

She laid out stands of muffins, sausage and cheese rolls, mini arancini that she and Charlie had made the previous night; mushroom risotto balls filled with gooey mozzarella. They were bite-sized, so not even the most appearance-conscious actor could protest. She tried to pile them up like a tower of Ferrero Rocher, but the rice balls had other ideas, and she settled for a less dramatic presentation.

‘Hello? Are you accepting visitors?’

Lila looked up to find Sam hovering in the doorway. She was reminded of his cute Marmite moment, and wished Charlie hadn’t kept her dog with her in Porthgolow today.

‘Of course,’ she said, pushing a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. ‘What would you like? Other than an arancini, because they’re obligatory, not optional.’

Sam raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve progressed from mothering to force-feeding, now? Where’s Charlie?’

‘Charlie is working on summer plans for the Cornish Cream Tea Bus, back in Porthgolow. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.’

‘What a hardship,’ Sam said lightly. Lila gave him a questioning look, but his expression gave nothing away. ‘I was after a coffee, if possible.’

‘One black, double-shot Americano coming up. What’s your favourite bean?’

Sam leaned against a table. He was wearing a scruffy grey jumper with the neckline pulled out of shape, and dark jeans. His feet looked huge in rugged, tan-coloured boots, and in the early morning light his hair seemed to glisten.

‘Favourite bean?’ he asked. ‘I quite like jelly beans, except the ones that taste like washing powder. Not a huge fan of baked beans, and I haven’t really considered how I feel about borlotti beans. I’ve not had cause to, so far in my life. Magic beans, though. They’re something else. I once played Jack in a stage version of Jack and the Beanstalk, and—’

‘I meant coffee beans,’ Lila said, laughing. ‘But good to know you’re ambivalent about borlotti beans. I am, too.’ Their eyes held for a moment. Lila was the first to look away. ‘It’s a moot point anyway,’ she continued, ‘because Charlie only has arabica beans, and only one type of roast, but I’m going to order some other varieties in next week, maybe do a coffee tasting one day.’ Now she was in charge, she had all these exciting plans.

‘I’m not sure how much time we’ll have for coffee tastings,’ Sam admitted, taking an arancini when she held the plate out to him.

‘No,’ Lila said, deflating. ‘I suppose not.’

‘It must get a bit dull, waiting here for someone to turn up.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s taking a while to get used to it, but it feels like a privilege to be here, too. It’s just a bit of an adjustment.’

Sam nodded. ‘You’re not the only one adjusting. This is my first lead role, and while I’m ready, I’ve been working up to it for a long time, to be honest … I’m bricking it.’

‘Wow. You seem …’ She couldn’t say she had guessed as much, but she was touched that he’d chosen to confide in her. ‘I mean, well done. Good luck! Shit, that all sounds so patronizing. Sorry. You’re here, and you’re doing it – and alongside Toby Welsh, no less! That’s super impressive.’

He gave her a weary smile and picked up his coffee cup. ‘I’d better be getting back. Thank you, though, for the good wishes. We’re both new at all this, so let me extend my good wishes to you, too. You’re certainly making breaks better than they might otherwise have been.’

‘Thank you,’ Lila said, unsure how to act in the face of his sudden formality.

‘And I’m sure you’ll find a way to make things more entertaining. I imagine that you can be very resourceful, when the need arises.’

She smiled, surprised that he’d already guessed that about her. ‘Resourcefulness is one of my more useful skills.’

‘I thought so. Have a good day.’

‘You too, Sam.’ She watched him walk off the bus, drawn to the way his hair tufted into a point at the back of his neck, and the tanned skin beneath.

At lunchtime, Max – the young, friendly man she had met in the catering tent on their first morning – took her place on board Gertie. Lila picked up an apple and a packet of Monster Munch from one of the other craft stalls and slipped away from the catering area.

The day was fresh and bright, but her blouse wasn’t protection enough against the wind. She shivered as she wove between the parked vehicles, past a large trailer called the Video Village, and down towards where she could hear waves crashing against rocks. There were so many people milling about, so much activity outside the bus, that Lila found it hard to take in. She remembered what Toby had said about the scale of the operation needed for filming a few hours of drama, and she wanted to find that central hub, the Ground Zero of the Estelle juggernaut.

She picked up her pace, rounded the corner of a long vehicle with high, blind-covered windows and almost bumped into someone. Her apple and crisps fell to ground as she jolted back, and she let out a helpless squeak.

‘Sorry,’ said a deep, resonant voice, and Lila discovered it was attached to a tall man with a crop of reddish-brown hair and intelligent eyes behind frameless glasses. He gave her a curious look.

‘I’m sorry too,’ she said. ‘I was going too fast.’

‘You need a new apple.’ He bent to pick it up, and then looked at it intently, as if it was something more impressive than a Royal Gala covered in dirt.

‘I do,’ Lila said, amused. ‘Would you like this one? You seem very enamoured with it.’

The man laughed and held out his hand. ‘It’s given me an idea. I’m Gregor, the director. I don’t recall having seen you before?’

‘I’m Delilah – Lila,’ she managed to say, though her pulse was suddenly racing. She’d almost bumped into the director while she was trying to spy on the filming. ‘I’m running the Cornish Cream Tea Bus, the quirky addition to the craft services.’

‘Ah yes,’ Gregor said. ‘Winston is very pleased with himself about that particular move. I should come and get a coffee. Have any interest in the filming, Lila?’

‘Oh yes,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘I was actually hoping to find …’

She brought herself up short, and Gregor laughed. ‘We’re all on our way to the catering tent for lunch, so filming’s on pause. But next time you get a chance, come and have a look. See what your culinary efforts are helping to fuel.’

‘I’d love that! Thank you.’ She resisted the urge to hug Gregor who, despite his strange fascination with her fallen apple, didn’t seem too intimidating. He wanted her to go and watch the filming. She waited until he’d gone, then made her way back to Gertie, her stomach growling. She stepped back on board just as a young woman, mobile pressed to her ear, was collecting a coffee. Lila whispered a thank you to Max and set about rearranging her display, unable to help overhearing the woman’s conversation.

‘Yes, tonight. A few of us are going. Not far, down at Portheras Cove.’ Lila pricked her ears up as the woman continued, oblivious to her interest. ‘I’m not really into all that equinox stuff, but it hasn’t been too cold today, and it should be a bit of a laugh. Yeah, I’ll see you then, OK? Cheers.’ The woman ended her call and gave Lila a quick smile.

‘Arancini?’ Lila asked, holding out the plate.

‘I’ve already had a couple, but what the heck! They’re great.’ She reached forward and selected two more, then strolled off the bus.

For the rest of that afternoon, Lila’s thoughts kept returning to what she’d heard. She hadn’t done much exploring since she’d been here, and a beach party – albeit one in March – would be the perfect way of celebrating her first week on set, especially if some of the crew were going to be there. It would be a chance to integrate more with the Estelle team away from Gertie.

Sam’s words popped into her head: I’m sure you’ll find a way to make things more entertaining. For some reason, she wanted to prove him right.

She heard shouting somewhere far away, a smattering of applause carried to her on the wind. They were all still working. She was supposed to stay later this evening, to be on hand when the actors had finished their twilight shoot – Charlie had pinned a schedule of their hours at this location to the wall before they’d even arrived – but it was already half past five, and surely everyone would want to get back to their accommodation when they were finished, to hot meals and glasses of wine or beer, not start their weekend off with a latte.

Lila did a quick search on her phone, found directions to Portheras Cove and started to shut down, checking everything was put away and switched off. When she was done, she jumped off the bus and locked the door. Nobody would notice she was missing, and if they did, by the time Monday morning rolled around, it would be forgotten about.

‘Right,’ she said, brushing away the niggle of unease that she was disobeying Charlie – and Winston’s – orders. She hurried to her Volvo and slid into the driver’s seat. She sent Charlie a quick message saying she would be out for the evening, but that she’d drive her back to set first thing in the morning so she could pick up Gertie and take her back to Porthgolow for the weekend. Then she put the car in gear, reversed out of the car park, waved goodnight to Claude on the gate and set off, the amber of a spectacular sunset pushing through the driver’s window as she headed towards her destination. ‘Spring equinox festival, here I come.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.