Page 20 of Summer at the Cornish Garden Café

Pearl sighed. ‘A few, my lovely. But that’s life, right? We all endure but we can also enjoy. Focusing on the things that give us joy is important, and it helps us keep moving forwards. How’s the book coming along?’

‘Not bad, thanks. To be honest, it’s not as easy as I thought it would be before I started.’ Lena removed her baseball cap and scratched the top of her head. ‘Although why I thought it might be easy, I don’t know because writing is an art. It requires perseverance, determination and a certain amount of confidence. It’s too easy to read what I’ve written and think it’s rubbish.’

‘I’m sure it’s not.’

‘I’m not so sure.’ Lena giggled. ‘It could be utter nonsense but I’m trying to push my inner critic away and to get the words on the page. If I allow self-doubt to creep in, then I won’t get anything done and I’ll have wasted the summer.’

‘You keep believing in yourself.’ Pearl held her gaze. ‘I believe you can do this. You look like an author to me.’

‘I look like an author?’ Lena tilted her head. ‘What? Pale with dark shadows under my eyes and a tormented expression?’

Pearl laughed now. ‘Goodness, no! You are beautiful, Lena. There’s just something about you that makes me think you’re a writer. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you know some people look like doctors, some look like librarians and some look like they work with horses? Well, you look like you work with words.’

‘That’s cool. I like that.’ Lena nodded.

‘Oh hello!’ Pearl looked behind Lena and smiled broadly. Lena turned to see Thomas walking towards them. He was holding a glass of lemonade too.

‘Hey, Pearl. Lena.’ He gave a small nod. ‘Beautiful day.’

‘It is indeed.’ Pearl drained her coffee.

‘OK if I sit down?’ he asked.

‘Of course it is.’ Lena peered up at him, wishing her heart would slow down.

‘Right, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get back inside.’ Pearl swung her leg over the seat and reached for her empty mug. ‘We have some lovely cheese and leek quiches fresh from theoven and they’re made with gluten free pastry, so if you do get peckish, I thoroughly recommend them.’

‘Thank you.’ Lena gave a nod.

Thomas sat opposite her then set his glass down on the table. Lena took a sip of lemonade, hoping it would help her to calm down. What was it with this man that turned into a nervous wreck whenever she saw him?

‘Everything OK?’ Thomas asked.

‘Yes, good thanks. I was just enjoying the peace and quiet here.’ She looked around.

‘Oh… Apologies!’ He moved to stand, and she held up a hand.

‘Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that.’ She watched as he paused, uncertain whether to stay or go. ‘I meant that it’s such a lovely place that I was enjoying how soothing it is. I didn’t mean that I want to sit here … alone. Pearl came and joined me, and we had a chat and now you’re here and I’m glad.’

He eyed her warily. ‘You’re glad?’

‘Yes. It’s nice to see you again. Twice in one day and all that because I saw you… earlier… in the village…’ She trailed off.

‘You look like you’ve been crying.’ A fine line appeared between his dark brows.

She touched a hand to her face, aware that her eyes were still a bit puffy from crying at the beach. ‘I think I got a bit overwhelmed when I met that little pug in the rescue sanctuary gazebo. He’s so beautiful. I went down to the sea then and and something just surged inside me.’

Thomas was watching her carefully.

‘Does that make sense?’ she prompted.

‘It does.’ He nodded. ‘Totally. When I first moved here I—’ He bit his bottom lip so hard it turned white.

What had happened to him? She knew about the accident but not in detail and wondered what trauma he carried.

‘You can tell me,’ she said softly.

He gazed across the garden and as he released his lip, the colour returned to it. ‘You’re a journalist,’ he said eventually.

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