Page 31 of The Cornish Cream Tea Holiday
Thea felt slightly self-conscious about being in the car with Meredith, with nowhere to escape to and small talk to make. It was like being at the hairdresser, which she hated, because she worried that silence made her seem grumpy rather thanshy, but she could never think of what to say, her mind emptying the moment she sat in the chair.
She soon discovered that this was going to be a hundred times better than the hairdresser, though, because Meredith was intent on breaking the ice.
‘I’m sorry about Finn and all his questions,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he even realises he’s doing it: he’s just naturally curious. Abouteveryone.’She laughed.
‘Doesn’t it get tiring after a while?’
Meredith thought for a moment. ‘At the beginning, definitely. But he’s so … he’s solovely,’ she said, and gave a romcom sigh, her smile kicking up, and Thea felt a pang of envy. She would love to be in love with someone, to have that bond, that overwhelming feeling of togetherness. She thought of Alex, the kindness that came so easily to him, and pushed the thought away.
‘How long have you been with him?’ she asked Meredith.
‘Since December. It was … all kinds of things happened, but he did this big, romantic gesture on Christmas Day, and—’ she laughed again. ‘He pretty much sold himself to me. And he’s a wonderful artist. He’s finding his feet, and it’s so good to see, because he hasn’t always found it easy to be himself.’
‘What about you?’ Thea asked.
‘Me? I work at Cornish Keepsakes, a gift shop in town.’
‘I passed there on Sunday. It wasn’t open, but I’m going to go back.’
‘It will be open on Sundays soon. My mission is to make it a fully modern business, while keeping its essential quaintness.’
‘Is it really old, then? The whole street looks like something out of a Dickens novel, actually, so it makes sense.’ She hadthought her bookshop would fit right in – up until yesterday, anyway.
‘It’s not that ancient,’ Meredith said, laughing. ‘It’s just my boss, Adrian. He’s great, but he’s got some old-fashioned ideas. I’m trying to blend them with some more up-to-date stuff, to make sure we stay relevant and optimised and all those other ridiculous buzzwords. What’s your project, if you don’t mind me asking? Padstow Booksellers is one of my favourite shops, and I’d love to know what you’re doing.’
They were driving along the coast road, nearing Padstow, seeing flashes of the sea as they passed inlets and sandy coves, the power of the Atlantic obvious even from such small glimpses. Thea changed gear, peering at the signposts, and Meredith directed her, telling her the back road into town was easiest, and she nodded and took the turning, and then everything was quiet.
‘I have this idea,’ she started, then thought of Ben’s insistence that she should be direct and unapologetic. ‘I’m going to open a bookshop,’ she said.
‘In Cornwall?’ Meredith squeaked. ‘Really?’
‘Really,’ Thea confirmed. It felt good, saying it so definitively, and easier, somehow, to tell Meredith, rather than Esme – or even Ben. There was a freedom in it, because they didn’t have any expectations of each other. ‘It’s been my dream for years. I’ve been saving up, I’ve put together a business plan, I know which loan to apply for when I find the right location.’
‘You think Port Karadow might be that place?’ Meredith asked. ‘It had its own bookshop a while ago – before I moved there – and I know people have felt the loss of it. This is amazing, Thea. So this is more than just a holiday?’
‘Well,’ Thea said, buoyed by Meredith’s enthusiasm, ‘I’ll have to go back to Bristol, whatever happens. It’ll take a while, sorting everything out: finding somewhere to live in Cornwall, packing up my old life. And of course I have to find the right premises before any of that, secure the loan. It’s not a done deal by any means, but …’
‘But what?’ Meredith asked, reaching between the seats to pet Crumble, who had woken from his slumber on the back seat with a cute, doggy yawn.
‘But I’m determined to make it work,’ Thea said, gripping the steering wheel tightly, thinking of Jamie Scable’s hard eyes and his sneer. But he was just one man, she realised: one man who she could take completely out of the equation if she found somewhere else in Port Karadow to open her bookshop.
Padstow was sunny and alive with people, strolling through the streets and sitting outside cafés, buying ice cream from the shop on the harbour, where boats were chugging in and out, queues of excited tourists waiting for the day-trippers and sea safari launches to come back and scoop them up. Thea could smell fish and chips, the delicious tang of frying batter and vinegar wafting over to them as lunchtime approached.
‘Oh God,’ Meredith said. ‘Maybe we’ll have to save the pasties for another time.’
‘We could get some to take back with us as dessert,’ Thea suggested. ‘I bet Finn and Ben would like one, after all their hard work.’
‘Great idea,’ Meredith said, and Thea could feel the other woman’s stare on the side of her face.
Padstow Booksellers was a warm hug of a shop, its busy, colourful shelves and the cheerful hello from the bookseller welcoming her like an old friend, even though she’d never been there before. She examined the space critically, taking in its display stands, the way it compartmentalised the books, the front desk that was slightly chaotic but all the better for it. She saw books she’d already read, books she’d put out on display at the library, noticed that they had a ‘Cornwall Stories’ section with Daphne du Maurier, Winston Graham, Fern Britton and Phillipa Ashley novels, and an elegant display of signed hardbacks. Everything about it was enticing and desirable.
They had allowed Crumble in, and the beagle was being well-behaved, occasionally sniffing the shelves but staying close to Meredith’s ankles, while Thea took her time inspecting it all.
‘Can I help you with anything in particular?’ the bookseller, a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, asked.
‘We’re just browsing at the moment,’ Thea said, then turned to Meredith and added, ‘unless you want something specific?’
‘No, I’m good, thank you.’ She was poring over a large hardback: seascapes on glossy pages. ‘Finn would love this,’ she murmured, and Thea left her to it.
