Page 11 of Autumn at the Cornish Garden Café

In the kitchen, she sat down and got the goodies out of the bag, then she made a fuss of Bobby. He rolled onto his back for her to tickle his belly, then he pawed at her legs so she lifted him onto her lap where he curled up and dropped off to sleep.

‘He likes you,’ Christopher said as he set two mugs of tea on the table. ‘He doesn’t do that with many people, so he must trust you. That’s good.’ He nodded as if something had been on his mind, but he turned and went to a cupboard, got out two plates and brought them to the table along with paper napkins.

‘He’s lovely.’ Rosa stroked Bobby’s soft fur and his small silky ears and he grunted in his sleep.

‘He’s a loyal little companion. I um … The thing about being left alone now is that I worry what will happen to him when I’m gone.’

‘Don’t say that! I’m sure you have years ahead of you yet.’

Christopher cleared his throat. ‘Maybe. But I want to sort everything out so I can relax, you know? Clearing the house as much as possible and putting plans in place just in case … for when I …’ He let the words hang in the air and Rosa sucked in a shaky breath. Yes, she knew, her aunt had been the same. Some people took out life insurance and funeral plans in their thirties and forties, but some people couldn’t bear to think about a time when they wouldn’t exist in the world. Some people found peace knowing their relatives wouldn’t have to worry about funeral plans and costs; others preferred to believe they would eventually write a will, and often never did. It was difficult, but Rosa knew that for her aunt, with it being just the two of them, it had been important for her to know that Rosa would have a simple time of it after she’d gone. She’d been a stickler for organisation and so when she had passed, Rosa had known what she’d wanted and everything she’d had was left to Rosa in a very clear and concise will.

‘I understand,’ she said softly. ‘My aunt was the same. She worried about leaving a mess for me and so she had everything spelt out in her will and after she passed, while sad, it was straightforward.’

‘My niece deserves the same,’ he said as he sat down opposite her. ‘And so I shall sort it all out. However, as far as Bobby is concerned, I do worry. I’ll ensure funds are available for him, so whoever adopts him after my death won’t have to worry about veterinary bills or similar costs. Isn’t that right, Bobby?’ He gazed at the dog, his eyes filled with love.

Rosa’s throat was aching now, and she opened her mouth to speak, but her vision blurred.

‘I apologise.’ Christopher shook his head. ‘You came to visit with delicious baked goods and here I am upsetting you. I am so sorry for the loss of your aunt and for bringing back sad memories.’

‘No … It’s not… that.’ Rosa coughed. ‘It’s seeing how much you love Bobby and thinking of him having to manage without you.’

‘He will find another mum or dad to love him.’

‘But he … he loves you.’ Rosa said the words and realised she sounded like an innocent child with no idea of the harsh realities of the world. She had never been that child; her father had abandoned her and then she’d lost her mum so young. ‘I mean … I can’t bear the thought of him not having you.’

‘Rosa … It’s a big ask, but do you think you would…’ He shook his head. ‘No. It’s too much to ask.’

‘If you want to ask if I would take care of him should anything happen to you, then yes I would. In fact, I would be honoured to care for him. Of course I would. But nothing is going to happen to you for a long time and so we don’t need to worry about that.’

‘Of course not.’ Christopher smiled, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he thought otherwise. ‘Now shall we eat this feast because it looks incredible?’

‘It’s all for you,’ she said. ‘I had lunch already.’

‘I couldn’t possibly eat all this. Please have some of the desserts, at least?’

‘OK then.’ Rosa shrugged and giggled. She hadn’t eaten dessert at the café, planning on trying some of the ginger cake when she got back to the shop, so now she helped herself to a slice while Christopher nibbled on a cheese and apple pasty then ate the crumble and clotted cream from the recyclable pot Pearl had packed them in.

They washed the food down with more tea and Christopher chatted about his niece in Canada and what he knew of her life there and Rosa listened, aware that having someone listen was probably nice for him. Plus, she found him fascinating, his deep voice and genteel tone, the way his eyes glossed over when he recalled a detail and how dimples appeared in his cheeks when he smiled. He must have been a handsome man when he was younger and she wondered what he had looked like and what his wife had been like too. Had they fallen in love, had eyes for no one else? Had theirs been a devoted marriage with no cruelty or heartbreak, the kind that only lucky people found?

‘Ah, look at me, wittering on,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I apologise yet again, Rosa. You have been very kind allowing me to take up so much of your time.’

‘I’m enjoying myself,’ she said.

‘But you have a shop to run and I’m an old man taking up your afternoon. Please don’t lose sales because of me.’

Rosa glanced at the clock and realised she’d been there for over an hour. She would need to get back to the shop, but she could spare ten more minutes. ‘I will have to get back so Vinnie can take his lunch break but first let me tell you about the books of yours I’ve already sold.’ She got out her phone and opened the folder, then talked him through the numbers and was pleased to see his brows rise and a smile play on his lips.

‘That’s an excellent start,’ he said.

‘Would you like me to transfer the money to a bank account or to send it another way?’ she asked.

‘Oh no, I don’t want the money,’ he said.

‘But it’s yours. Of course you need the money.’

‘I thought that I’d like to donate it to the local animal rescue sanctuary and, perhaps, if there’s enough, to the village school literacy fund. I know they’re always trying to raise money for the children, so how about you split it between the two?’

‘That would be very generous of you, Christopher,’ she said. ‘Are you sure?’

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