Page 73 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
‘The one about the couple on the hill. Do you know it?’ She laughed. ‘Silly question: you know them all. It’s such a tragic love story, and the fact that they’ve been seen, so clearly, even though it was a dark night …’ She shook her head. ‘It’s only a short walk from here. Have you ever …?’
‘Have I ever seen them?’
Ollie nodded.
‘Once, a long time ago. At least I think I did, but it was the middle of the night, misty, all the usual caveats. I know the legend says they appear as clear as day, but I’m sure it overdramatises.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because if it was true, people would have gone along with cameras and their modern phones and captured the ghosts.’
‘Perhaps they can’t be captured, though.’ Ollie leaned forward, the keyboard protesting when she hit a random combination of keys with the heels of her hands. ‘Perhaps they can only be seen with the naked eye: as fleeting as their love was.’
‘It’s a sad story, isn’t it?’ Liam said. ‘VeryRomeo and Juliet. Two families, one Cornish, one from London, at loggerheads over the farmland the incomers were taking over, their dominance over the cattle sales in the area.’
‘And nobody knows if the young man really killed himself?’ Ollie kept her voice low. It seemed wrong to gossip about it. So many legends had their origins in truth, even if the drama, the emotion, had been twisted out of proportion.
‘They don’t.’ Liam sighed. ‘They found him early one morning, lying in the dewy grass, a mile from his house, but the cause of death was never established. Of course, in those days, medical understanding was nowhere near as good as it is today. There could have been any number of natural causes that ended his life far too early.’
Ollie shuddered. ‘Maybe we’ll stay in and watch a romcom instead.’
Liam slid his bookmark between the pages of his book and closed it. ‘I’ve got an even better idea.’ His voice was louder than before, as if he wanted to expel the sadness from the room, and Henry startled awake. ‘Why don’t you and Max come for dinner? No obligation to do any typing at all: just good food, wine and company. We got on well at the quiz, and when he came here the other day. Nowhe’s become so important to you, I’d like to get to know him better.’
Ollie smiled, a flush of pride warming her insides. She wanted to show Max off to everyone, shout from the rooftops that they were together, and she couldn’t think of anything better than spending Saturday evening in this hug of a house, talking and laughing with the two men who had come into her life since she’d moved to Cornwall, the Christmas decorations shimmering.
She was determined to help Max relax this weekend. She could see that the pre-Christmas rush at the café was taking its toll, and she wanted to look after him.
‘I’d love to,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure Max would, too. Thank you, Liam, that’s so kind of you.’
‘It would be my pleasure. You’re inspiring me to extend my social contacts, to get out and about in town more than I have been recently, especially now it’s furnished with such a good bookshop. This is a good next step.’
‘You’re coming to the Sophia Forsythe-Hartley event too: no excuses allowed.’
Liam saluted. ‘Yes, boss.’
‘Let me know what I can bring tomorrow,’ she said, and Liam was shaking his head when Marion returned, bringing a tantalising aroma with her.
‘Orange cookies with cappuccino icing.’ She put the plate of cookies on Liam’s desk. They were piled high, their light brown icing glossy. ‘A unique flavour combination, I’ll grant you, but it works.’
Ollie didn’t hesitate, and when she bit into the biscuit, a riot of flavours exploded on her tongue. ‘Ohmygosh,’ she mumbled. ‘Marion, these are incredible.’
‘Good.’ She looked at the floor. ‘Got to try and keep up with Beryan, even though she’s getting paid for her bakes.’
‘You know I think yours are superior,’ Liam said, taking a cookie from the top of the pile.
‘Max doesn’t,’ Marion murmured, and Ollie and Liam exchanged a glance. Was Marion annoyed that he had picked Beryan as his baker, and not her?
‘Come for dinner tomorrow night,’ Liam said. ‘I’ve invited Ollie and Max, and you should be there too – Adam as well, if he’s free. But not a crumb of cooking.’
‘What will you do then, order in?’ Marion sounded horrified.
‘I make a mean shepherd’s pie when I set my mind to it, which isn’t very often at all. But I’m going to make the effort.’
‘Honestly, Liam, we could bring nibbles—’
‘No.’ Liam cut Ollie off. ‘I’m going to do this properly. I’ll quite enjoy it, I think.’ He smiled to himself, and now it was Ollie and Marion who exchanged a glance.
‘Adam’s at the rugby club tomorrow night, so he won’t be able to accompany me,’ Marion said. ‘I’ll come, but I’m going to make more biscuits – especially if Max is going to be here.’
