Page 19 of The Cornish Cream Tea Holiday
‘Can I ask why you still came here by yourself?’ Ben said. ‘Not that it isn’t something people do, but if your friend had to cancel, and you’d been planning it together, wouldn’t it have been easier to do it another time? You seem like …’
‘Like I’m not that great at holidaying alone?’
‘I wasn’t going to say that.’
‘No, but it’strue. Esme and I had been planning this for ages: three weeks off in an idyllic Cornish village, doing a whole load of summery activities. But shewasgoing to make me go coasteering, so there are some upsides to being here on my own.’ She took a sip of her coffee.
‘Coasteering?’ Ben’s eyebrows rose.
‘You know, where you clamber over cliffs and then jump off them, into the sea. Using the wild, dangerous coastline like a cute little obstacle course. Can you really see me doing that? After yesterday?’
He opened his mouth, then chewed on his bottom lip in a way that made him look about twelve, and was far too adorable for such a solid man.
‘I know,’ she said, rescuing him. ‘Me either. But other things, like lazing on the beach and going to festivals, trips to those lovely gardens along the Helford river, they’re all on the list, and I was looking forward to them. And just having time together: hours away from work to catch up properly. It feels like it’s been a long time since we had the opportunity.’
‘Where do you work?’
‘At the library in Bristol.’
‘You’re a librarian?’
She shifted in her seat. She loved everything about the library, the books and the events, and that it was a resource for tiny tots and their parents; teenagers; job-seekers and ninety-year-olds. But the word librarian always conjured up an image of a lonely, pedantic woman with unfashionable glasses and few friends. It was her own prejudice – she didn’t see any of her colleagues like that at all – but she levelled it at herself far too often.
‘I’m a library assistant,’ she clarified, wondering why she couldn’t own it. ‘A total book nerd. And Esme is one of the managers. We’ve got a summer festival on, and the woman who was due to be running it broke her leg quite badly. She’s going to be OK, but running that festival is busy andtiring, and you can’t do it with a broken leg. So Esme’s back there, working on it, and I’m here, getting all the benefits of our extensive planning.’
Ben’s gaze on her was unwavering. ‘There’s a lot of Cornwall to explore, so you need to make the most of your time.’
‘I will. I have a whole list. And I think …’ Was she really going to do this? Go hiking with a man she’d met only yesterday? Maybe he was a serial killer who had a personal quota of pushing one person off the cliffs every month, getting away with it because tourists sometimes got into difficult situations, and those cliffs were bloodydangerous. But he’d done nothing to suggest he wasn’t trustworthy. He’d helped her out a lot, so far. ‘These eggs are so good,’ she said instead. ‘Do you put milk in them?’
He looked appalled. ‘Definitely not! Philistine.’ He softened his words with a smile, and Thea knew she was going to say yes.
She looked out at the Cornish vista that promised another perfect day, with no clouds and hot sun and breathtaking views. ‘If it turned out that I’d forgotten my sunhat,’ she said slowly, ‘could I borrow something from you?’
He sat up straighter, and even though his smile didn’t widen, she could tell that he was pleased. ‘No problem,’ he said, for about the fiftieth time that morning.
