The Cornish Guest House (4 page)

‘Do you want to have a lie-down?’ she asked, studying her daughter’s face for clues. She’d been fine earlier, but she’d been at school all day and maybe the visit to The Stables had been too much; they should have postponed it. ‘History can wait. I’ll write a note to the teacher, she’ll understand.’

Rosie sighed. ‘Mu-um, I’m just tired, that’s all. I’ve had a really busy day. There’s nothing wrong with me.’

She was accustomed to her mother’s fretting, but it irritated her nonetheless.

Liz felt her body relax. She was overreacting; she must learn to control it.

‘Why don’t you go and finish your work now, then?’ she suggested, pulling out the chopping board and starting on a red pepper that she’d discovered in the salad tray, along with an onion, a knob of ginger, some green beans and red chillies. She’d settled on a chicken stir-fry. ‘You’d better get to bed in decent time.’

Rosie sloped off and Liz switched the radio on quietly while she finished preparing the vegetables. As she jigged along to Mellow Magic, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time to focus on the amazing progress that Rosie had made, rather than dwell on her own anxieties. It was true that Rosie tired easily and needed to rest, that her appetite was poor and that she was more susceptible to coughs and colds than other children.

Her short-term memory had also been affected, meaning that it took her longer to learn certain concepts at school, which she found frustrating. Sometimes her left leg shook uncontrollably because of damage to the neurological pathways, and she’d also lost her peripheral vision, though it didn’t seem to bother her unduly. Overall, though, she was doing extraordinarily well and, aside from regular three-month scans and physiotherapy, she was able to lead a remarkably normal life.

No, Liz mused, fetching the wok from a drawer beneath the cooker and tipping in some oil, she really shouldn’t complain. After two years the scans would become six-monthly, dropping to once a year after five years. When that time came, they’d have a big celebration for sure, but there was already so much to be thankful for.

It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of her husband’s key in the lock and she quickly wiped her hands on her apron and hurried down the hallway.

His face lit up when he saw her. ‘Hey, you!’

He looked terribly handsome. His hazel eyes, flecked with amber, sparkled and his brown hair was tousled from the wind. He stooped down to kiss her on the lips; he was very tall so there was a long way to go. ‘Good day – since I last saw you?’

She laughed. He’d been back home briefly after the lunchtime customers had gone and had only left again around four.

She snaked her arms beneath his waxed jacket, enjoying the warmth of his body through the cotton shirt. ‘We called on the new people who’ve moved to The Stables. The place is going to be amazing when it’s finished.’

Robert buried his face in her hair and whispered in her ear, ‘Not as nice as Bag End, though?’

‘Never!’

They ate round the kitchen table that they’d picked up at an auction. Neither Liz nor Robert had brought much furniture with them when they’d moved, and they both liked old pieces that seemed to fit with the character of the place. Rosie chattered about school. Mandy, apparently, had been off sick for the third day in a row – ‘I think she’s just making it up now,’ she said unsympathetically. George, meanwhile, had received a detention for swearing.

‘He only said “Jesus!” under his breath when Mr Mills said we had to learn two lots of French vocab for a test. He’s ridiculously strict.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t swear in front of the teacher,’ Liz said firmly, before smiling. ‘But I agree that’s pretty draconian.’

Robert’s mobile phone rang when they were clearing away the dishes and he answered it in the front room where the signal was better. It seemed that one of the waitresses had called to say that she was unwell so they were a person down.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said to Liz, ‘we’re only half-full but you know what Loveday’s like—’

‘It’s fine, honestly.’ Liz enjoyed stepping in to help when needed as it gave her a chance to see the gang and catch up on the news. ‘I’ll run and check Pat’s free.’

The old woman’s cottage, The Nook, was only a few doors up, next to Liz and Rosie’s former home. Liz had to rap loudly on the canary-yellow front door because Pat was rather deaf, and soon she herself appeared over the top of her china ornament display in the little window that looked directly on to the street.

On spotting Liz, her snowy head bobbed out of view and she shuffled off to let her in. Pat was well into her eighties and had a special place in Liz’s heart, having been kind enough to mind Rosie almost every evening for years when Liz had worked regularly at the restaurant. She didn’t know how she’d have managed without her.

‘’Course I’ll come!’ Pat said, offering a prickly cheek for Liz to kiss. ‘I could do with a change of scenery. I’ve got some of those choccy bickies that Madam likes.’ She was already hobbling down the narrow hallway to find her coat and bag. ‘Tell Rosie to put the kettle on and I’ll be there in two shakes of a blanket.’

*

Liz changed into a white blouse and her old black waitressing skirt, then she and Robert left the pair in front of the TV and walked quickly up Humble Hill before turning left into winding South Street. It was dark now, and the old-fashioned streetlights had come on, though they’d be switched off later as a money-saving measure. There was no one about, which was lucky because they were rather late. It was difficult to go anywhere in the village without seeing someone you knew and feeling obliged to stop for a chat.

Liz noticed that the mannequins in Seaspray Boutique had been stripped and were standing naked, bald and sad in the window. Audrey, the owner, must have done it only recently, as they’d been fully clothed at the beginning of the week. The shop wouldn’t open again now until March or April when the models would be flaunting the new season’s looks.

A Winkle In Time was on the right, almost at the bottom of the road, which was too narrow for cars to go up and down so you had to park elsewhere. A former sea captain’s home, it stood out from the other buildings because it was larger and painted white, with bright blue wooden shutters and its name emblazoned in distinctive, swirly white letters on a matching blue board above the door.

Liz could hear noises as she entered and she hung her coat in the little cloakroom before hurrying into the kitchen, which was already humming with activity. A red-faced Alex, the head chef, was barking orders at his number two, as well as Jesse, who’d been promoted from washer-upper and jack of all trades and was training to be a chef himself.

The task of pot washer and general dogsbody now fell to Callum, who was scrubbing vegetables in the giant sink. A cheery lad of twenty-one, with two voluptuous, half-naked ladies tattooed on his forearms, he’d been unemployed before and was grateful to have found permanent work in the village.

There was no sign of the other waitress, Loveday, Robert’s niece. She tended to saunter in just as the customers arrived, looking for all the world as if she was doing everyone a huge favour. She and Jesse had been going out together for a year now and, give or take the odd fracas that made nerves jangle in the kitchen, they seemed to be made for each other.

‘Liz!’ Jesse cried, pausing a moment from stirring the contents of a large saucepan that was simmering on the stove and giving off delicious smells. He was twenty years old, with a mass of blond, corkscrew curls and an impressive surfer’s torso that he liked to show off at the slightest opportunity. ‘How goes it?’

They caught up briefly, then Liz started laying the tables while Robert prepared the till and polished glasses. The restaurant was square in shape and quite small inside, with low ceilings, an uneven wooden floor and wonky tables made of stripped bare oak that were pushed quite close together due to lack of space.

Robert had talked about re-designing the interior and had asked Liz to help, but they’d been so busy with the move, followed by the wedding, that they hadn’t had the chance. In any case, customers seemed to love the rough and readiness of the venue, which had a homely, welcoming feel, the sort of place where you could wear your Wellies and bring your dog if you so chose. It would be good to re-paint the walls, though, and extend the kitchen, which was rather cramped.

‘Thank God it’s you, not her.’

Liz looked up from folding a pile of white linen napkins to see Loveday sloping by in nothing but a low-cut, tight white T-shirt, black mini-skirt and platform heels. She was a big girl of nineteen, with a very large bust that you couldn’t ignore, and hair dyed black that had recently been cut into a severe crop and shaved up both sides. The long fringe stuck out in spikes, owing to the quantities of wax she used.

Liz had been told by Robert that his niece and the new waitress weren’t the best of friends. In fact, Loveday seemed to have a problem with any waitress who wasn’t Liz. Demi, the girl before, had been a ‘lazy cow’ and ‘too full of herself’, although the relationship had thawed a little before she’d left. The new one, meanwhile, was a ‘pernickety old boot’ who should go back to where she’d come from. Somewhere in Wales, apparently.

‘No coat?’ asked Liz, noticing Loveday’s bare legs, which had turned quite blue with the cold. She was always half-naked, that girl. It never ceased to amaze.

‘Nah,’ said Loveday, frowning, ‘couldn’t be arsed.’

She was clearly having one of her bad days so Liz thought it wise not to comment further.

Once she’d finished the tables, she checked the menu to familiarise herself with what was on offer and watched while Robert chalked the names of the specials on a blackboard to the right of the bar. There was gurnard tonight, as well as cod and grey mullet. Alex had been out at 4 a.m. this morning with the one bona-fide fisherman left in the village, and they’d come back with a sizeable catch. The fisherman, an old sea dog if ever there was one, was the only man Liz had ever met with muscly fingers. They were so thick, from handling the nets all his life, that it was a wonder he could bend them.

Anything he caught that Robert and Alex didn’t want for A Winkle In Time went to Blue Ocean Seafoods, the fishmonger in Market Square, and what they couldn’t source locally they’d buy from the fish markets of Looe and Plymouth.

The first customer to arrive on the dot of seven forty-five was none other than Rick Kane, accompanied by a new lady friend whom Liz hadn’t seen before. Rick, who ran the village gift shop, Treasure Trove, was a fan of internet dating. Into his sixties now and sporting a bushy grey beard and sideburns, he seemed to be working his way through the county’s entire population of mature women and was never without someone on his arm.

‘Good evening,’ he said to Liz, rather formally, she thought, and he kept a protective hand on his date’s back as he ushered her solicitously to her chair. She was rather glamorous, with long red fingernails, thick blue eye shadow and a halo of white-blonde hair. She must have had a blow-dry earlier in the day.

‘May I see the wine list?’ Rick asked, leaning forward so that his companion had the full focus of his attention.

Liz smiled inwardly. Usually, he shunned the menu in favour of house white or red; he was obviously keen to make a good impression.

‘Of course,’ she said, adopting her best, professional tone. She couldn’t help noticing that several of the buttons on his red and white striped shirt had been left open, revealing an impressive crop of grey chest hair. ‘I’ll ask the manager to advise you.’

As the restaurant filled up she darted to and fro, carrying bowls of sweet potato and ginger soup and plates of pot-roasted gurnard and spiced cod and scallop linguine. Robert popped back and forth, too, fetching wines from the store in the backyard and keeping an eye on the bar as well as Loveday, who could have done with a firm hand, though he never gave her one. He was so quiet and intent on his work that Liz didn’t like to speak to him. Every now and then, though, they’d exchange glances, he’d mouth, ‘OK?’ and she’d smile and nod back.

It seemed hard to believe, now, that she’d once thought him awkward and antisocial. How wrong you could be! Focused, yes, unfriendly, never. In fact, the well-being of all his staff was his greatest concern.

Rick and his lady friend were deep in conversation and took ages to finish their first two courses. At one point he lifted her hand from the table and played with her fingers, interlacing them with his own. She, meanwhile, lowered her eyes frequently and gazed at him through heavily mascaraed lashes, popping off every now and again to the ladies’ to refresh her pink glossy lipstick.

Liz went over a couple of times to top up their wine glasses then stopped, sensing that Rick wanted to do the honours. They were in a world of their own. The other customers were new to her and she heard one man say to his companion that he couldn’t believe he’d never been here before.

‘It’s charming,’ the woman agreed. ‘And the food’s delicious.’

Liz made a mental note to tell Robert and the other staff later. They worked so hard and everyone needed a pat on the back from time to time.

Towards the end of the evening her legs were aching and she marvelled at how nimble she’d once been. Amazing to think that she’d held down this job as well as cleaning offices in the mornings; she was definitely out of practice. It wasn’t until most people were finishing dessert that she managed to stop for a proper chat with Jesse, who informed her in his pronounced Cornish accent that he and Loveday were shortly moving in together to a little rented flat on the top floor of Jack’s Cottage, near The Victory Inn pub.

He’d previously been living with his mum, while Loveday had been paying a small amount for a room in the family home of a friend. It wasn’t ideal, though, because the friend’s little brother had a corn snake, called Slinky, that he liked to hide around the house to make her scream.

Liz clapped her hands at Jesse’s news. ‘Fantastic! I look forward to seeing it!’

Actually, she knew about the flat already because Robert had helped with Loveday’s contribution towards the deposit, but she didn’t want to spoil the young man’s pleasure by letting on. Alex, who’d been listening in, made a joke about old married couples.