Page 1 of Summer at the Cornish Garden Café

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LENA TELLER

‘Every moment is a fresh beginning,’ Lena Teller said to herself as she pushed open the door to The Garden Café and looked around. The interior was pretty and colourful with reclaimed wooden tables and chairs, a dark green leather sofa against one wall and shelves filled with books, magazines and games. With the sunlight streaming through the front windows creating a golden haze and warming the wooden floorboards, and the delicious aromas of coffee and cakes, the café was cosy and comforting.

At the counter, she waited in the queue, eyeing the treats on offer in the glass display case and in the cake stands on top of the counter. There were cakes and tarts, stuffed baguettes and pasties with crimped edges, as well as other delights like fat shiny meringues. Behind the counter, a swing door led to what she guessed was the kitchen, and off to the right of the counter was another door that led to the toilets.

Lena had walked to the café from the rented cottage that she’d moved into the previous day. It had been a glorious walk in the early May sunshine with the sea breeze ruffling her hair and the thin material of her floral tea dress. She’d worn trainers, not surehow far the walk would be but now knew she could wear sandals and still be comfortable.

She’d seen a flier for the café at the village grocery shop and decided to take a walk and stretch her legs. She wanted to get out and see where she’d be staying for the duration of the summer because then she would be able to soak up the scenery and hopefully get some inspiration for the book she planned to write.

Porthpenny was a beautiful Cornish village from what she’d seen so far. Located southwest of Mousehole, it consisted of a small harbour, beautiful beach and the village itself that was everything Lena had always imagined a Cornish fishing village would be. From its granite cottages nestled on the hillside of the village, the harbour that sat in a natural inlet, then the cliffs that rose either side of the location, tall, grey and craggy, Porthpenny offered the perfect writing escape.

During her walk to the café, she’d admired the view of the beach to her right, the sea spreading out seemingly endlessly, glistening in the sunlight, inviting her for a dip whenever the mood took her. The café itself was set in stunning gardens that she intended on exploring after she’d had a drink and a bite to eat. They were lush with early summer, trees and plants boasting a variety of shades of green. Rainbows of flowers in different sizes and shapes bloomed in borders and pots, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. Around the exterior of the stone building, ivy and roses climbed, making the café seem to be a part of the gardens as if it had grown up out of the earth itself. She could well imagine bringing her laptop here to sit and write, inside or outside this idyll where she would become a regular. In this stunning location, she would write the book that would catapult her to the top of the bestseller lists and make her childhood dreams come true.

After fifteen years as a journalist working in London, Lena was keen to make the most of this time out and to try to make some changes in her life. Goodness only knew she needed to slow down, everyone from her GP to her friends had told her as much, and what she’d been through had been evidence that something needed to change.

When it was her turn to be served, she smiled at the woman behind the counter. With her glowing skin, short grey hair and hazel eyes, she could have been anywhere between fifty and seventy. She wasn’t very good at guessing people’s ages, as once people hit a certain stage of life, she thought they all looked similar. Some people aged better than others — if better meant looking younger than their chronological age — and others looked older than they were. As she’d got older, she found that people seemed to look younger. When she was a teenager, she thought fifty was old, but she now thought of it as very young indeed. At thirty-six, Lena was a way off fifty, but she suspected it would arrive soon enough, just like her fortieth birthday. It was true that time waited for no one, and she wished there was a way to slow it down because she didn’t feel like she’d done half the things she wanted to do yet.

‘Hello, there.’ The woman behind the counter smiled warmly. ‘What can I get you?’

‘What do you recommend?’ Lena asked.

‘That depends on how hungry you are. Did you want lunch or just a snack?’

Lena’s eyes slid to the specials board behind the counter. ‘I think I’d like some lunch.’

‘OK then, well as you can see, we have a delicious variety of dishes available. I can personally recommend the Cornish crab salad with avocado and goat’s cheese, or the chicken and pesto baguette with sweet potato fries. If it’s soup you’d like, the roasted tomato and basil is scrumptious or you can try one of the pasties that come from our village bakery. Do you have any special dietary requirements?’

‘I do try to avoid gluten when possible because I have a mild intolerance. I have—’ Lena bit her bottom lip. She had a habit of telling people too much sometimes and being too open and it didn’t always serve her well.

‘You have?’ The woman tilted her head. ‘IBS, perhaps? I know how uncomfortable that can be and totally understand the need to avoid gluten.’

‘Not IBS, no.’ Lena sighed. ‘I have PCOS, and over the years I’ve trialled different things to see if the symptoms will improve. I do eat gluten sometimes if it can’t be avoided, but try to keep it to a minimum.’

‘Well, my granddaughter works here and she designed some of the menu. She’s always looking for ways to cater to different intolerances and diets, so a lot of the things we make are gluten free. If you look you can see the little flags on the trays. And on the specials board it says underneath each item if it’s gluten free, vegetarian or vegan.’

Lena peered into the glass front of the counter and nodded. ‘Yes, of course. And oh, how wonderful! You have a large gluten free range.’

‘We do. So, what would you like?’

‘I’ll have the chicken pesto baguette with sweet potato fries and a pot of tea, please.’

‘Certainly. Where are you sitting?’

Lena looked behind her and spotted that the green leather sofa was free. ‘Over there by the window.’

‘Go and sit down and I’ll bring everything over when it’s ready. By the way, I’m Pearl and this is my café. If you need anything else or have any questions, please feel free to ask. ’

‘Thank you, Pearl. I’m Lena. I think you’re going to see a lot more of me.’ Lena swiped her card on the reader when Pearl held it out to her.

‘Oh yes? How so?’

‘I’m staying here for the summer,’ Lena said. ‘In fact, I should be here until September at least.’

‘How lovely. Business or pleasure?’ Pearl asked.

‘A combination of both, probably.’

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