Page 50 of Love in the Air at The Cornish Bakery

‘Not on my watch, you won’t. Go on, it’ll only take me a few minutes.’ Elsie placed her hand on Nina’s shoulder. ‘You get some coffee down you before it gets cold, and I’ll be back in a few moments.’

‘Okay.’ Nina pulled a mug towards her.

‘I am most definitely bunking up in Annie’s cottage tonight. There’s no way I’m staying in the camper in this.’ Brooke grimaced as another crack of thunder rolled across the sky.

‘I don’t blame you. See you tomorrow.’ Nina smiled.

‘Bye.’

As the back door clicked shut behind the three of them, the bakery was plunged into silence, punctuated only by the crash of thunder. Nina looked around, everywhere looked tidy and clean. They must have tidied when she was on her lunch break and the rain had begun to pour. Wrapping her hands around the hot mug, she brought it to her lips and took a long, slow sip. She couldn’t stop thinking about the argument she’d had with Rowan over the letter. Should she have just left it? Not said anything? Been grateful that he’s chosen their relationship over his dream job?

Leaning back in the chair, she rolled her shoulders back. No. That wouldn’t have been fair on Rowan. She knew he wanted to take the job. She knew he’d be in his element, living the dream, and she couldn’t just sit by and let him give up all of that, not for her. She shifted in her chair and checked her mobile. There was still a signal. The storm couldn’t have reached the masts yet.

Scrolling through to his name, she pressed the call button. As she waited for him to answer, she took a deep breath. She wasn’t even sure what she was going to say, but she wanted him to understand that she only wanted him to take the job because she loved him and wanted to see him happy. She pinched the bridge of her nose. The last thing she wanted was to be here without him, but she had to put him first. She had to, especially after she’d messed up the last four years of their lives.

She put her mobile on the table and watched as it rang out. Maybe he was still serving. People may have taken refuge in the pub, waiting for the storm to pass.

Thunder rumbled above the bakery. It was louder this time, the storm closer. As she waited for it to pass, she saw her phone light up; the ringtone lost in the rumbling thunder outside. ‘Hello?’ Cupping the mobile around her ear, she waited until the thunder had passed. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello, love. It’s Elsie. I’m going to hole up at Diane’s until the storm passes. I know it’s not far, but it doesn’t feel very safe to drive back at the moment. Is that okay with you, love?’

‘Yes, that’s fine.’ Swallowing, Nina looked around the bakery. The daylight had all but been smothered by the clouds above, and she could hardly see across to the other side of the bakery anymore.

‘Okay, love. Keep safe.’

‘You too.’ Placing her mobile back down on the table, Nina tapped her foot against the floor. The bakery would soon be plunged into darkness, and she would be here. Alone. Pushing her chair back, she ran to the back door and checked the handle. It was locked, but then again, her front door back home had been locked too when the house was broken into. And what better cover than to break in during a storm?

Looking around the kitchen, she dragged the stools across from the table and pushed them against the door, creating a barrier. If anyone got through, they’d set off a domino effect on the stools and she’d hear them.

Rushing back through to the bakery, she checked the front door. It, too, was locked. Again, she dragged a chair across to the door, this time jamming its wooden back beneath the handle. With both the back door and the front door secure, she stood in the middle of the bakery and spun slowly around. Shadows danced across the walls and the floor tiles. She looked towards the door to the flat. Without the large windows of the bakery, it would be even darker up there. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to hear the stools fall if someone did break in.

No, she’d stay down here. That would be the safest thing. Picking up her coffee mug, the liquid inside now mid-to-lukewarm, she lowered herself onto a chair by the window, the lightest place in the bakery.

She sat perfectly still, her eyes focused on the promenade outside. She could feel the darkness and the shadows creeping in on her. Trying to steady her breathing, she watched as each lightning strike illuminated the promenade outside the window, the waves of the ocean crashing up against the seawall, spraying water across the cobbles. With each strike, she counted until the fiercely pounding thunder arrived.

The rain was relentless, one continuous stream of water slapping against the window, but the thunder slowly rolled past them, leaving a ferocious wind in its place. Elsie wasn’t going to be coming home, was she? Not tonight. Not if this continued.

Bringing her mug to her lips, she took a sip of coffee, the temperature of the freezing liquid surprising her. She must have been sitting here for longer than she’d thought.

A loud crash filled the bakery and Nina froze, coffee cup in hand, her eyes darting to the kitchen door where the sound had come from. Had someone broken in? Had the stools toppled? Was that what the loud bang had been?

Holding her breath, she listened. The only noise she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her chest. She needed to do something. She couldn’t just sit there, waiting. Standing up, she paused again. She couldn’t hear anything else coming from the kitchen. Forcing herself, she inched her way across the floor in the direction of the kitchen.

Pausing by the kitchen door, she pulled her phone from her pocket and switched on the torch app. Without giving herself time to think, she pushed the kitchen door open and scanned the room. The stools were still in place, guarding the back door.

She frowned. She couldn’t see anything which had caused the bang. She screamed as something crashed against the kitchen window. Gripping the edge of the work surface, she swung her light towards the sound. It was a garden chair. One of those plastic garden chairs. It must have flown over the wall from the café next door.

Leaving the kitchen, she retreated to her seat by the window and checked the battery on her phone. It was on five per cent. There was no telling when the power would be back up, but she assumed it would be a while as the storm was giving no sign of abating.

She turned it off, a sheet of darkness immediately covering the bakery. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t sit here all night, on guard, waiting for something to happen. She wanted Rowan. She wanted to talk to him. To work things out.

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