Page 11 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

Chloe’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re joking!’

‘I’m not. He’s on the village and Polveanan town council. Gets to wield a bit of power. If you’re serious about developing the bakery, it might be wise to keep him sweet. Or at least not aggravate him. He works in here but most of the time he helps Nik run the Surf School.’

‘Blimey.’ Chloe sat back, incredulous. ‘Liam Enys a councillor. And just when you think this place couldn’t surprise you.’

CHAPTER 7

While waiting for their fresh round of drinks Ginger asked, ‘How did you get on with Pammy? You said you’d been in the bakery today.’

‘Popped in to have a look-see. The ovens and the prep areas all look okay. Same with the café kitchen.’

‘Yeah, I remember your mum investing in some new kit a few years ago. After your dad died.’

Chloe sucked in a sharp breath. ‘That was ten years ago. Can you believe it? His funeral was the last time I was here.’

‘I remember.’ Ginger put her hand over her friend’s. ‘You haven’t been back since.’

‘Not until now.’ Chloe hated to dwell on the memories. Her father’s funeral had been held on a clammy grey sort of day in January when even the seagulls couldn’t raise any energy and sat, morose and silent, on chimney tops. ‘Mum made it clear it was her and Hannah against the world.’ She gave Ginger a bitter smile. ‘No room for me.’

Chloe had stayed for some of the wake but had driven straight back to London as soon as she could escape, claiming she hadn’t been able to take more time off. It had been a lie. She’d stood at the side of the community centre hall in Polveanan, watching as her mother and sister soaked up the condolences. They looked almost cheerful, almost as if they were having a good time. Trying to be charitable, she guessed they were putting on a brave front. Chloe hadn’t been able to eat or even drink the tea someone pressed on her. Her throat was so tight with unshed tears, to swallow would have been impossible. She was grieving her father terribly. Her dad had been the only one in the family to encourage Chloe to look beyond the constrictions of village life, to raise her head above the parapet of Wheal Kitty Cove. To want more. It had always been her and her dad, with Dulcie and Hannah in their own little club. Hannah still had her mum. And now, Chloe had no one. She’d slipped out as soon as there were noises to take the wake to the pub for a drinking session. There was nothing she wanted to celebrate. She’d driven back to London without stopping, her vision blurred with tears.

Now, back in the village and with the family she’d turned her back on, she stared hard at the flames licking at the edges of the new log Liam had put on.

‘Well, it’s good to have you home now.’

‘Thanks, Ginger.’ Chloe shot her friend a grateful look. Ginger always tried to say the right thing, always looked on the bright side but, really, she hadn’t a clue.

‘So what was the problem with Pammy?’

‘What?’ Chloe came back to the present with difficulty.

‘You said you’d been into the bakery.’

‘That’s right, I did.’ Chloe sucked in a deep breath. ‘The basics are all in place, nothing wrong with the equipment.’

‘You said that.’ Ginger peered into the crisp packet and, finding it empty, scrunched it up and threw it on the fire. It caught, with a sudden flame, popping and sizzling.

‘I tried to talk Pammy through a new menu. Tried to get her to offer more than pots of tea and scones.’

Ginger pulled a face. ‘Bet that went well.’

‘Oh yes. I’m only talking maybe sourdough with smashed avvie, or trialling something for non-meat eaters, but apparently ham and tomato, and crab sandwiches have always been what people want. Then I showed her the Facebook page of that sourdough bakery over in Penzance. Said maybe we could look into offering different types of bread. I’ve been watching YouTube; it doesn’t look that tricky. You just need to get a starter going and you’re away.’ Her lip curled in disdain. ‘People name their starters, can you imagine? What a load of old nonsense.’

‘You’d be surprised at what people believe,’ Ginger said mildly. ‘But you’ve never been the most, how shall I put it, spiritually open of people.’

‘Nope. In that we’re very different.’ Chloe wasn’t offended. They knew each other well and accepted their many differences. It didn’t affect the friendship.

‘What did Pammy say?’

‘Said I knew nothing about baking bread. That as well as a skill, it’s an art. That it can be affected by the weather, the damp air.’ Chloe screwed up her face in confusion. ‘Think she even mentioned moon cycles at one point. But commercial bakeries churn out thousands of loaves a day. They don’t consider a bloody full moon.’

She was so indignant, it made Ginger laugh. ‘Yes, but they bake in factory conditions. Everything’s controlled.’

‘Nothing controlled about Pammy,’ Chloe said mournfully. ‘If she worked for me in my other job and spoke to me like that, she’d be fired on the spot. And I hate to think how she’d react to targets.’

‘I can give you one guess.’

Chloe straightened her back. ‘Well, she’ll have to toe the line and do what I want, otherwise she’ll just have to go.’