The Cornish Cream Tea Bus: Part Four – The Icing on the Cake. Cressida McLaughlin

Daniel had partly replaced her distant son, whom she saw only via computer screen. ‘Better late than never, though this is a rather important meeting for you to be rocking up so late.’

      Charlie hid her smile, inexplicably happy that he didn’t escape Reenie’s gentle chiding.

      ‘I know, and I’m really sorry. How did our plan go down? What do you think about a bank holiday food market, Charlie?’

      Charlie could tell that he wasn’t as relaxed as usual; there was a nervous energy about him she wasn’t used to. ‘I think it’s a great plan,’ she said. ‘A perfect way to end the summer.’

      ‘Good.’ He leaned against the back of the bench Reenie was sitting on, his arms folded over his chest, and listened to Myrtle – and Hugh, Amanda, Stella and Jonah – recap what he’d missed, even though, from the sound of it, he’d been in on the idea from the beginning. He showed genuine surprise – and amusement – that Reenie was responsible for the Porthgolow Hideaway account.

      Charlie allowed her gaze to drift over his arms, taking in the definition of his biceps, visible despite the hoodie, the length of his legs, his blue Converse, the way an unruly wave of his hair had fallen over his left eye and he’d left it there. She felt the churning, low in her stomach, that appeared whenever she thought of Daniel, ten times stronger now that she was in his presence.

      ‘OK?’ Juliette whispered. ‘Only the milk’s about to overflow.’

      ‘Oh fuck,’ Charlie shouted, as the boiling milk she’d been absent-mindedly frothing bubbled to the lip of the jug and cascaded over her fingers.

      Juliette took the jug away, turned on the cold tap and pulled Charlie’s hand under it.

      ‘Is our fearless leader OK?’ Reenie asked.

      ‘I’m fine,’ Charlie called, glad that she could stand next to the sink and hide her flaming cheeks.

      ‘A minor milk scald, nothing more,’ Juliette confirmed. ‘So everything’s settled, then? We’re all on board for the bank holiday weekend? Three whole days of eventing! Porthgolow won’t know what’s hit it.’

      There were murmurs of assent, whoops and cheers and general jubilation. Daniel stood up and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Lauren,’ he said. ‘Could I have a word with you, outside?’

      He’d spoken quietly, but it wasn’t the ideal place to have a private conversation. The bus fell silent and everyone’s eyes swivelled in Lauren’s direction.

      She sat up straighter, her gaze wary. ‘Shouldn’t we wait until the meeting’s finished?’

      ‘Just a quick word,’ Daniel said. ‘It won’t take long.’

      Lauren relaxed into her seat, but her hands were fidgeting on the table. ‘I think we should finish up here first. If this three-day market is really going to happen, then we need to know all the facts so we can manage its impact on the hotel. We don’t want to miss anything important.’

      ‘We won’t,’ Daniel said. ‘But I do need to talk to you, quite urgently.’

      Lauren shook her head. Charlie was shocked to see her eyes were glistening. Something cold and hard lodged itself under her ribcage.

      Daniel rubbed his jaw. ‘Listen, I—’

      ‘She did it, didn’t she?’ Myrtle said quietly. ‘That’s why you want to talk to her, and she won’t come. Because she knows what you’re goin’ to say.’

      ‘Did what?’ Hugh asked, as Lauren stared at the table.

      ‘Went to the council.’ Myrtle curled her thin fingers into fists. ‘She called the council and got Charlie’s bus shut down.’