Cressida McLaughlin - The Cornish Cream Tea Bus

‘Hugh?’ he called, his deep voice carrying. ‘Hugh, are you there?’

Hugh bustled through from the kitchen, smiling when he saw who it was. ‘Ah, Daniel, owaree?’

‘Good, thanks,’ Daniel replied. ‘I don’t have long, I just wondered if you knew anything about a bus that’s parked in the beach car park? It’s a vintage-style double-decker, but it’s pretty shabby. I don’t think it’s been there long, but …’ He sighed. ‘I’m keen for it to be moved to somewhere more … appropriate. I’m worried somebody’s dumped it there.’

Charlie flashed Juliette a look. ‘Who is this joker?’

‘That,’ Juliette replied, ‘if you haven’t yet worked it out, is Daniel Harper. Esteemed owner of The Crystal Waters Spa Hotel. Isn’t he charming?’ Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, which was so unlike her that Charlie felt completely upended.

‘I’m not sure, Daniel,’ Hugh was saying. ‘I hadn’t noticed a bus, but I’ve been here all day. Mebbe …’ His eyes slid towards their table.

Anyone could have made the deduction. A new face in the pub, an unexpected vehicle in the car park.

Daniel followed his gaze, and Charlie was pinioned to her seat by a pair of very dark, very direct eyes. She thought she saw Daniel flinch, but that might have been her imagination, or maybe she was the one who had reacted. Her cheeks burned. Her consternation at his unkind words about Gertie, his imperiousness and his direct stare, in a face that was, Charlie was just about capable of noticing, seriously, sternly handsome, all combined to make her feel even more at sea.

Daniel Harper turned fully to face their table, leaned against the bar and folded his arms across a wide, strong chest. His hair was slightly longer at the front, a curl of it softening the line of his forehead. ‘Do you know anything about that bus?’ he asked, without any hesitation, any introductions, or an ounce of embarrassment.

‘Nice to meet you too,’ Charlie said, finding her voice. ‘Now, what is it that you think I can help you with?’

‘So you do know about the bus? Is it yours?’ Daniel took a step towards their table, his dog following loyally, and Marmite’s yelps increased in pitch. Daniel looked in alarm at the Yorkipoo, who was now pawing frantically at Charlie’s jumper. It was not, she thought, the best way to start what was clearly going to be an uncomfortable conversation.

‘Yes, it’s mine. I’m Charlie, by the way.’ She half stood, keeping a firm grip on Marmite, and held out her hand.

Daniel leaned forward and shook it, then stepped back again. He glanced at Lawrence and then Juliette, nodding briefly.

‘Daniel,’ Lawrence said, in a low, serious voice that sounded very unlike him.

‘Hi,’ Juliette mumbled.

‘You were saying something to Hugh about me having to move it?’ Charlie said. ‘The car park is open to the public and free, unless I’ve read the signs wrong.’

‘It doesn’t look right there,’ Daniel replied. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s true. It almost looks abandoned.’

‘It doesn’t look abandoned! I had an accident last week and she needs patching up, but Gertie is a beautiful bus and she’s in very good condition, considering her age.’ His lips twitched at her impassioned use of the bus’s name, but she kept going. ‘It’s not like she’s taking up space that would otherwise be occupied, and unless you’ve got a bus phobia then I can’t see how it’s causing you a problem.’

‘It couldn’t be parked outside wherever you’re staying? For … how many days?’

Charlie rolled her eyes.

‘She’s staying with us,’ Juliette said, putting her hand on Charlie’s arm. ‘And our road’s far too narrow to park the bus. She’s going to be here for at least a couple of weeks—’

‘Probably longer,’ Lawrence added.

‘So that’s good, isn’t it?’ Juliette beamed, and Daniel’s eyebrows knitted together.

‘There’s nowhere else it can go?’

‘I don’t see why it has to,’ Charlie said. ‘Do you own the village? Are you the mayor or something? You certainly act like you’re in charge.’

‘No, of course not,’ Daniel said. ‘But my hotel is—’

‘More important than anything else?’

Daniel folded his arms and stared at her. In the ensuing silence, his dog took a few steps forward, angling his nose up towards Marmite. Marmite whimpered and burrowed into Charlie’s armpit.

‘You’re staying in Porthgolow for a few weeks?’ he asked eventually.

‘Possibly the whole summer,’ Juliette replied for her.

‘Great.’ Daniel’s gaze didn’t leave Charlie’s, and she knew that she couldn’t look away; she couldn’t let him win.

‘I’m really looking forward to getting to know everyone here,’ Charlie told him.

‘And I can’t wait to see what the locals think of the bus.’ Daniel’s eyes shone. ‘They’re quite protective of their way of life. You’ll find that out sooner rather than later.’

‘Oh, I think I already have. Thanks for the lesson.’ She smiled sweetly.

Daniel shook his head and sighed. He tugged on the German shepherd’s lead just as Marmite inched forwards, his fear fading. ‘Nice to meet you, Charlie. Lawrence, Juliette.’ He nodded a brief goodbye and led his dog away.

‘See what I mean?’ Juliette said, once the door had closed behind Daniel. ‘He is selfish, obsessed with that hotel and completely uncaring.’ She folded her arms, and Lawrence reached over and squeezed her hand.

Charlie sipped her drink. Her friend was so mild-mannered and always saw the good in people, so for her to be so vehemently against Daniel was unusual. He certainly hadn’t endeared himself to Charlie, but he hadn’t come across as a monster, either. He was obviously passionate about his hotel, and confident to the point of arrogance, but she had seen amusement and intelligence in his eyes, and couldn’t believe he was entirely thoughtless. She was sure there was something more personal to Juliette’s dislike of him – something that she was reluctant to share. She wondered how she could tease the answer out of her.

‘So, back to Gertie,’ Juliette said, topping up their glasses. ‘When do we start work on her?’

It was a week later and Gertie was gone from the car park.

Charlie walked down the hill with Marmite, the sun almost absent today, just a weak pulse behind rolling clouds as if it was trying to push open a heavy door. She glanced up at Crystal Waters, and wondered if Daniel had thrown himself a party when she’d driven Gertie out of Porthgolow. Then again, from what little she’d seen, he didn’t seem like the partying kind. He’d more likely poured himself a large whisky in his walnut-panelled office and thrown fish chum to the sharks swimming in the glass tank underneath the floor. Charlie shook her head to clear the image; she’d been watching too many Bond films with Lawrence and Juliette.

But Gertie wasn’t gone because of what Daniel had said in the pub, or because he’d subsequently pulled strings with some Cornwall government cronies. Gertie was gone because Lawrence’s friend, Pete, who ran a surfing supplies shop in Newquay and refurbished camper vans in his spare time, had taken on Charlie’s project with gusto. He had listened to her and Juliette’s ideas in a hipster café overlooking Newquay sands while they drank coffee out of Kilner jars, and turned around the plans within a couple of days.

His realization of her ideas was amazing, and Charlie had been in a perpetual state of excitement ever since, picturing the tables with cup-holders built in, so that Charlie could drive the bus with customers on it but without fear of spillage; the scarlet and royal-blue seat covers, the kitchen area downstairs complete with sink, fridge and compact oven; a built-in coffee machine that would have no chance of slipping off the counter. The plans were as breathtaking as the price of the renovations, but once Charlie had heard them, she couldn’t imagine anything less for Gertie.