Page 3 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

‘The wild water swimming group. There’s about fifteen of them.’

‘She’s seventy. What’s she doing in the sea at eight in the morning?’

‘Comes down most days. You should try it.’

‘It’s September. I’ll pass, thanks.’

‘That’s when the sea’s the warmest. Don’t you remember?’

Chloe couldn’t be bothered to discuss it. She had a feeling he was right and although she liked a good argument, she liked to win. Or used to.

They were interrupted by Dulcie Pengelly jogging up to them, her orange and khaki camouflage-patterned Dryrobe flapping around her calves, Ziggy, her blue roan spaniel, danced around. The dog halted right by Chloe and she feared the worst. Sure enough, Ziggy shook himself vigorously, showering them all with sand.

‘Ziggy, what are you like?’ Dulcie scolded indulgently.

Chloe brushed the sand off her jeans in short jerky movements. She hated the feel of it. The damp grittiness took her right back to her childhood here in Wheal Kitty Cove. A place she’d done her best to shake off, in much the same way that Ziggy had got rid of the sand. And now she was back. Her gloomy mood deepened.

‘Don’t take on so, Chloe. ’Tis only a speck of sand, maid.’ Her mother turned to Nik, her tone softening. ‘Hello, my ’andsome. You all good? This one’s’ – Dulcie nodded to her daughter – ‘been redoing the café menu. I mean, I’ve been selling them pasties and tea since forever. Who wants a cinnamon spiced lacy-thing, whatever one of them bad boys is?’

‘I’m trying to update the café,’ Chloe answered, trying to hide her resentment and failing. ‘You asked me to take it over. Flavoured coffees are popular, especially cinnamon spiced lattes.’

Dulcie huffed. ‘Not round here, they’re not. But, to be fair, I did ask you to take over. What else were you going to do? No fancy job in London no more. Thought you were at a loose end, my lovely.’

Prickliness hung in the air. Dulcie had never forgiven Chloe for leaving the village and Chloe had never forgiven her mother for not understanding why she needed to leave. For Dulcie everything anyone ever wanted was here in Wheal Kitty Cove. It had suffocated Chloe and, apart from the occasional visit, she hadn’t been back since leaving for university.

Nik glanced uneasily from mother to daughter. ‘Autumn’s coming up. I’m sure folk will be glad of a new type of hot drink to try.’

Chloe flashed him a grateful look. ‘For that, first one is on the house.’

‘Ace.’ He grinned at her.

She cringed. No grown man of her acquaintance ever said ace.

He must have noticed her expression as his smile disappeared and he turned to her mother. ‘Are you going up to the beach café for a hot chocolate now, Dulcie?’ he said briskly. ‘Warm yourself up?’

‘Thought I might. Has Pinky bothered to open yet, or has he gone onto his winter timetable?’

‘He was opening up as I walked past,’ Chloe put in.

‘Don’t fancy joining us, sweet boy?’

Nik tapped his board. ‘Thought I’d catch some waves. See you both.’

The women watched as he loped towards the sea, stopping to greet other members of the Sea Kitties as they emerged from the water.

‘Such a lovely man.’ Dulcie sighed. ‘You could do a lot worse.’

‘I’m not here to find a man,’ Chloe retorted. ‘And since when have you ever been interested in my love life? When have you ever been interested in any aspect of my life? You don’t know anything about me.’

‘No, that I don’t.’ Dulcie’s eyes clouded with sadness. ‘Because as soon as you could, you left.’

‘Can you blame me?’ Chloe twisted to go before the tears erupted, her feelings all over the place. She wasn’t usually so emotional, but the tribulations of the last few years had left her weary and hollowed out. There was nothing for her here. There never had been. A wave of longing for London washed over her as she turned her back on the turquoise sea. She craved the stench of diesel, for the busyness of the city, the anonymity. She had lost so much. How could she expect her mother to understand? Dulcie had never grasped her daughter’s need for university, the hunger for an exciting, demanding career, the desperate urgency to escape the suffocating paradise that was Wheal Kitty Cove. Chloe’s younger sister had stayed in the area, married, had children. All things Dulcie approved of. Sometimes Chloe genuinely wondered if she was adopted. She’d never fitted in.

Dulcie blew out an exasperated breath. ‘Don’t stomp off. Come for breakfast, child. You look as if you could get yourself round a bacon roll. You’re so thin, turn you sideways, stick your tongue out, folk’ll think you’re a zip.’

Chloe’s mouth dropped open. The concept of body shaming had obviously passed her mother by. To annoy Dulcie, she decided to join her for breakfast, refusing to give her the satisfaction of getting a rise. Besides, her tummy was growling.

They strolled towards the concrete slipway and began its ascent. Dulcie struggled with the incline, wobbling a little, so Chloe put a hand under her elbow which, to her surprise, wasn’t shaken off. The swim must have taken it out of her but, then again, the slipway was purposefully steep to launch the village lifeboat quickly. Atlantic seas could be cruel and a lifeboat was a necessity. To their left were the white cubed buildings of the RNLI station and the surf school, and on the right, just below the gardens where Chloe had sat with Ginger, was the beach café. The rest of the village was little more than a pub, a few shops and houses on either side of the steep and narrow Beach Lane that led up to the main road to Polveanan, the nearby town.