Page 12 of Christmas Joy at the Cornish Bakery

Robyn laughed. ‘Well, I can’t really refuse now, can I?’

‘Nope.’ Chuckling, Elsie turned towards the counter and pointed at Diane before calling over her shoulder to Robyn. ‘Remember to wrap up warm. It’s cold out there.’

‘Will do. Thanks.’

Chapter Ten

Picking up her knife and fork, Robyn cut through a roast potato before savouring the perfectly cooked and seasoned potato. This, getting lunch at the pub, had been a great idea of Elsie’s. She hadn’t had a roast in months. There never seemed much point in making one for herself. Before her flatmate got with her current partner, Robyn would make one for the both of them but now, well, she was either out at his or ordering takeaways, so Robyn only enjoyed one every once in a while when Cathy invited her over to hers.

But this... She took another bite. This was delicious. So much better than anything she could even dream of cooking. As she savoured the flavours, Robyn glanced around the pub. The tables were packed full of people, most enjoying the pub’s Christmas menu and eating a roast too by the looks of it. People laughed and chattered away whilst an open fire at one end of the pub roared and emitted a welcome warmth.

She’d been lucky to get a place at the bar. And she didn’t mind sitting at the bar. She quite enjoyed overhearing snippets of conversations between punters and the landlord, Gerald.

‘How is it?’ Gerald nodded towards her as he picked up a cloth and began wiping spilt lager from the highly polished wooden bar.

Swallowing, she grinned. ‘Delicious. The best roast I’ve had in a very long time.’

‘Fantastic. That’s what I like to hear.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll be sure to pass your compliments onto the chef. I’d drag him out here, but he’s dealing with a drinks delivery at the moment.’

‘Please do.’ She stabbed a carrot with her fork. ‘Is it always this busy?’

‘Ah, not usually.’ Gerald tapped his finger against a menu standing upright in front of the tap handles. ‘Special Christmas menu came in last week, so we’re booked out pretty much all day every day. That, and it being a Saturday, people are getting together with friends and family before Christmas.’

‘Ah, family Christmas dinners.’ Glancing behind, Robyn rolled her eyes. ‘So, your pub is filled with people pretending to enjoy each other’s company then?’

Gerald looked out across the pub. ‘What do you mean? They look perfectly happy. In fact, I can’t see a grumpy face between them.’

‘Just that. That’s what everyone does, isn’t it? Put on a face outside the home.’ She swivelled around on her bar stool. ‘I can guarantee that not one of these families would be smiling and laughing like they are now if they were at home.’

Shaking his head, Gerald tutted, a look only just shy of laughter dancing in his eyes. ‘You’re one cynical person.’

Robyn shrugged. She rarely felt as though she could say stuff like this to random strangers, but Gerald had an air about him that suggested he was more than used to people unpacking their thoughts to him. Besides, she was right. It wasn’t just her family who had always put on a show of closeness and happiness in public. ‘Am I though?’

Leaning his back against the shelving unit behind the bar, he crossed his arms. ‘What do you think they’re hiding?’

‘Umm, not necessarily hiding anything, just that they’re not so friendly with each other and not so happy at home.’ Turning to him, she stabbed her fork in the direction of a young family eating their puddings on a table in the corner. ‘Take this family, for example. Do you really think they smile at each over a plate of food at home? Or more likely do you think that one of themslams a plate of food on the table as soon as the other one walks in from work, or maybe they pass silently in the hallway, one going to work and one coming home. Or maybe they’re so tired all the time because the two angelic kids don’t sleep and so they bicker constantly.’

Gerald raised one eyebrow. ‘You don’t think happiness is real, then?’

She stabbed a potato with her fork, cutting it up and flinching as the knife squealed across the plate. ‘I’m not saying they’re never happy, just that people hide things. A bit like on social media, people only put the happy photos.’

‘True. But it’s not all fake.’

‘True love is.’ She shoved the potato in her mouth. Maybe she shouldn’t have started this conversation with him. He didn’t seem ready to realise the truth. Although, how about his family? His wife and any children if he had them? Were they happy?

‘Fake?’ Gerald pushed himself away from the shelving unit. ‘We’ll have to rectify this belief.’

Shaking her head, she laughed. She was certain she was right. The hours she’d spent listening to her parents argue and bicker were enough to convince her she was right. She’d lived through it. Yes, Cathy seemed happy with her husband, but there were always exceptions to any rule.

‘Hey, Gerald. All done. All the ciders you ordered are in the cellar.’ Jasper’s unmistakable voice could be heard above the general chatter and laughter in the pub and, by the sounds of it, he was fast approaching the bar.

Rounding her shoulders, Robyn kept her eyes on her food as Jasper came to stand next to her. He hadn’t noticed it was her. She swallowed the piece of potato, her mouth suddenly feeling dry.

‘Thanks very much, lad.’ Stepping forward, Gerald shook his hand just as Richie, Debbie’s partner, walked through from thekitchen holding a bowl full of chips, which he passed across to Richie.

‘Here you go, mate. Extra cheesy as promised.’ Richie set the bowl on the bar which a clunk.

‘Cheers.’ Slipping onto the stool next to Robyn, Jasper pulled the bowl of steaming cheesy chips towards him.

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