Page 4 of Autumn at the Cornish Garden Café

‘That was lucky. Selling a property can be a trial in itself.’

‘Did you sell one too in order to move here?’ he asked.

‘I did, but it wasn’t mine. Well, legally it was, but it wasn’t my home, it was my aunt’s. I lived there growing up but… Well, it’s a long story that I won’t bore you with because I’m sure you’re busy…’ She sighed.

‘I’d love to hear it but if it’s a long one, I probably won’t have time this morning as I start my new job.’

‘You do?’

‘I’m so nervous.’ He let out a self-conscious laugh.

‘What is it? Your new job?’

‘I’m a teacher and I start at the village primary school today.’

‘That’s amazing.’ Rosa smiled and his stomach flipped over. ‘You must be very clever.’

‘Ha! I’m not sure about that, but I do work hard. Most teachers do. Too hard sometimes, but it’s the nature of the job. Although having said that, my quality of life is better now than it used to be when I worked in finance.’

‘Was that in London?’

‘It was. Not a lifestyle I miss or ever want to endure again.’ He shuddered. ‘I put in long hours as a teacher, but I also have a life. But when I worked in finance, that was my life. Most of it, anyway.’ He sipped his coffee to prevent himself from saying more about what his life had involved back then. They were not details he’d care to share with Rosa in their first proper conversation. Just like her, he had things in his past that required time to explain, and first thing in the morning before work was not the right time.

He gazed at the boats bobbing in the harbour, their hulls weathered with salt and rust. The early rays of the sun turned the small ripples in the water into a glinting mosaic of gold and copper. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked, and another one answered while further away a cockerel crowed. The air smelled of dried seaweed and weathered rope, damp wood and engine oil, and the lingering earthy trace of mud exposed at low tide.

‘I’m glad you got to do something else then,’ Rosa said.

‘What about you?’ He drained his coffee mug and set it on the bench between them. ‘How long have you lived here?’

‘Three months. I sold my aunt’s home and moved here to start over.’ She lifted her chin and something flickered across her face like an aftershock. ‘I mean … to open the bookshop and to have a fresh start.’

‘Well, here’s to fresh starts in Porthpenny!’ Henry held up his empty mug and tapped it against hers. ‘Let them be filled with adventures and many happy days.’

‘To new adventures and happy days,’ she said, holding his gaze.

Henry looked down at his watch. ‘Oh man, I’d better get going if I’m going to shower and grab some breakfast before work. I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be. You don’t want to be late for your first day.’

‘I’m quite anxious now.’

‘You’ll be amazing. Don’t doubt yourself.’

‘Thank you. For the coffee and the kindness.’

‘It’s my pleasure. Have a wonderful day. I need to get back to the shop to prepare for my first full day, too.’

‘Of course you do! Good luck with that.’

They both stood, and Henry held out the mug. ‘Thanks again for that delicious coffee.’

‘Anytime, Henry.’

‘I’ll see you soon.’

They stood gazing at each other for a few moments as the boats creaked and groaned as they shifted with the tide in the harbour and a gull circled above, its white wings catching the light. The briny tang of the sea seemed to envelop them, and Henry felt something washing over him. Something he hadn’t experienced in years. He felt a strong sense of hope that living here and embracing this fresh start was going to be a positive thing for him and for Rosa.

‘See you,’ she said.

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