Page 6 of Love in the Air at The Cornish Bakery

Nina looked towards the person who had called her name. She recognised her from yesterday. Was her name Lauren? Yes, she was sure it was. She hadn’t realised she was a teacher. Waving back at her, Nina laughed as all the children waved in reply. ‘Have a great time on your trip!’

‘I’m sure we will, won’t we, class?’ Lauren grinned. ‘We’re off to collect some shells for our art class.’

‘Oh wow. I’m sure you’ll find some lovely ones. Enjoy.’ Grinning, Nina watched as the class made their way down towards the beach. She’d not even been in the bay a day and people were talking to her in the street, people she knew.

Lifting the box again, Nina made her way to the wooden door of the pub, leaned her elbow heavily on the door handle, and pushed down, trying to keep the box as level as she could. Feeling the handle give, she gently kicked the door open and slipped inside. The all too familiar aroma of stale beer surrounded her as she made her way towards the bar. It was quiet. A couple of men were sitting playing a game of chess at the table in the far corner and a couple picked at a basket of chips they were sharing at the far end of the bar.

After lowering the box on the bar, Nina shuffled her feet, unsure whether she should wait patiently for someone to appear or if she should call out, make herself known. She always found these sorts of decisions difficult. Easy to most, but to her, she was always unsure of the correct social norms. Slipping onto a bar stool, she pulled her mobile from her pocket. Nothing. Apart from a brief text yesterday from her brother asking if she’d found the bakery, she’d had no other communication, no calls, no messages. Nothing from any of her friends or colleagues. Not that she’d been expecting anything. Not from her colleagues, anyway. The number of times they’d had to pick up her slack over the past couple of months, she guessed they were happy to see the back of her for a while. They’d never say so, but she couldn’t really blame them. Ever since the burglary, she’d been struggling to sleep and, of course, that had had a knock-on effect with her work. She’d let the advertising agency she worked at down.

She placed her mobile face down on the bar. Her friends too. They’d all but given up on asking her out because she’d declined their dinner party offers, their meet-ups to celebrate someone’s birthday. Recently, she’d let everyone down. She hadn’t meant to; she’d just been so tired. Always so tired.

Running her fingers through her hair, she looked towards the door as a group of people walked through and joined her at the bar.

‘Hey, Gerald. You open today, mate? We’re wasting away out here.’ A man who must have been in his early twenties picked up a pile of menus and passed them around to the other members of his group.

‘Sorry, mate. What can I get you all?’ A man sporting a beard, presumably Gerald, appeared from somewhere behind the bar and made his way towards the group before pausing and looking across at Nina. ‘Sorry, have you been waiting long?’

‘Not really.’ Nina shrugged, the deep warmth of discomfort flushing across her cheeks. She should have called out instead of just sitting there like that.

‘Good, good.’ Gerald called over his shoulder, ‘Hey, buddy, come out here and serve this young lady, would you?’

‘Coming, boss.’

The tone of the voice pulled at Nina’s memory. She knew that voice.

‘Nina?’

Opening her mouth to speak, she closed it again. Was it him? ‘Rowan?’

‘Why... what brings you here?’ Rowan threw the tea towel he was holding over his right shoulder.

‘Pies. I brought pies.’ She tapped the box in front of her.

‘Pies?’

Had that really been her answer? Pies? ‘I... umm... Elsie forgot about them, so I’ve brought them here.’

‘Oh, right? You’re Elsie’s new volunteer?’ A look of understanding swept across his face.

Nina nodded. It really was Rowan. He was here. In the bay. She shook her head. She’d heard he’d moved away, she’d always assumed he’d gone travelling. She hadn’t cared. Why would she, after what he’d done? After the way he’d behaved?

‘Wow. It’s good to see you after all this time. What? It must be four years now, is that right?’ He grinned, his dimple barely showing through the coarse stubble covering his face.

Four years and three months. Not that she’d been counting. She hadn’t. She just knew it had been just before her birthday that their relationship had broken down. Some birthday that had been. She’d been half expecting, half hoping for a diamond for her birthday, and instead, she’d had her heart broken. Not that he’d remember. ‘It must be.’ Standing up, she pushed the stool back into place and tapped the box. ‘Anyway, I’d better get back. Here are your pies.’

‘Right, yes. Thank you for that.’

Nodding, Nina began making her way to the door, desperate to put as much distance between her and Rowan as quickly as she could.

‘Nina, wait up...’

‘Sorry, I’ve got to get back. We’re super busy today.’ Without looking behind her, Nina pushed the heavy door open and stepped outside. Taking a deep breath, she paused and looked down the hill towards the ocean, towards the bakery. Of all the places in the world, why had Rowan ended up here? He’d always spoken about travelling, telling her over and over that he’d never settle in England, so why had he? He’d always said his dream job would be one where he could travel. Why had he come to Cornwall? To Penworth Bay? The exact place she had come?

She began walking down the hill. It wasn’t as though she could run, take the next bus to the train station, and head home. She shuddered. Not that she particularly wanted to, but even if she did, she couldn’t. She had to speak to Ian first, to Brooke, too.

As she walked down the stairs leading to the beach, she scraped her hair back from her face and bundled it into a messy bun; the breeze was stronger here on the seafront and it tugged at her hair desperately trying to release it from the grasp of the hairband. She could speak to Ian today. She could march straight up to the lighthouse right now and pass on her gran’s message and then she could leave, put as much distance between her and Rowan as she could. There was only one thing holding her back. Well, two. The fact she really didn’t want to step foot inside her home, not yet. Every time she had returned home from work, or on the rare occasion she visited her brother or a friend, a dark cloak of foreboding had covered her the moment she’d stepped inside. And that’s what it had felt like, literally a cloak of worry, unease. Just as though it had been waiting to drop from the porch ceiling and cover her the moment she returned.

Slipping her trainers off, she wriggled her toes, loosening the grains of sand beneath her. It sounded silly. She’d tried to explain how it felt to her brother, and his answer had been to join a martial arts club. It hadn’t been a bad idea, and she’d started to look into those local to her before her gran had rung and asked her to travel to Penworth Bay. Deep down, she’d known it wasn’t the answer, though. Yes, she’d have probably felt more confident, more able to protect herself if the house was burgled again, but it wouldn’t have helped her sleep, wouldn’t have helped her newfound fear of the dark.

---