Page 45 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

Ginger giggled again. ‘After this evening nothing would surprise me. I can see why it’s not suitable for young children. Isaak would have been terrified. I spent most of it being really scared.’ She felt Josh’s arm tighten and leaned into it.

‘What was your favourite part?’

Having you wrap your arms tight around me when I screamed when a zombie nearly got me. ‘The Magic Forest. No horror, no mummies or zombies or crazed scientists. It was really atmospheric in the big garden behind Tregarrick House.’

‘The art gallery?’

Ginger nodded. ‘Loved having to find our way through the maze to that long table with the abandoned meal, the candles and the cobwebs, the fairy lights and the smoking cauldron, oh and the spine-chilling music. It was eerie but magical, too.’

‘Did you miss the evil forest maidens hiding in the trees?’

‘Yes!’ Then she clocked Josh’s teasing face. ‘Don’t joke. I think by that point the slightest thing would have set me off. I’m a bundle of nerves.’

‘Just as well you’ve got your big brave Josh to walk you home, this dark night.’ He nuzzled at her ear, just below her crocheted beret.

Just as well. Ginger did a little sigh of happiness.

CHAPTER 23

Definite nip in the air this morning, Chloe thought as she marched down the track before turning left up Beach Lane and towards the bakery. The sea was churning, waves white and frothy, crashing up against the cliffs. Cotton wool clouds scudded across the sky in the stiff breeze. For now, the threatened rain had held off but this was Cornwall. Four seasons in one day? More like four seasons in one hour. What she wouldn’t give for a takeaway cinnamon spiced latte right now. Her mouth watered at the thought. She turned up the collar of her gilet, thinking she’d have to invest in an appropriate coat for the winter. One with a hood. Her Ralph Lauren trench coat just wouldn’t be up to it. In fact, most of her wardrobe was useless here. She needed warm layers, waterproof jackets and tough boots. She winced as her trainer encountered a sharp stone that dug into its thin sole. Time to pay a visit to the outdoor shop in Polveanan. And, much as she despised the garment, a thick, real wool cardigan would come in handy. You could begin the day in freezing rain and half an hour later be baking hot in a sunny spell. Layers were essential. She giggled to herself. Her city acquaintances and work colleagues wouldn’t recognise her.

‘All right, maid?’ It was Dulcie, walking in the opposite direction, orange Dryrobe on, a yellow and pink tie-dyed scarf fluttering in the breeze. She was obviously heading for her early morning swim. Ziggy dropped something that looked vaguely familiar, barked in recognition and danced on the end of his lead. ‘Heard he got you in a right old pickle the other day.’

‘Sorry?’

Her mother cackled. ‘Always had a thing for piles of washing, has Ziggy. Ever since he was a puppy. Hope they was clean.’

‘I…’ Chloe floundered for an answer. Could anything be kept secret in this village? Refusing to rise to the bait, she deflected. ‘Are you sure it’s safe to go for a swim this morning? There’s a big sea today.’

‘Best time, when there’s a blue sky above you and a bite of wind licking. Sea’s warm this time of year, too. You fancy it, child?’

Chloe shuddered and clutched the edges of her gilet together. ‘Too cold for me. I prefer to swim in a nice, heated pool.’

‘Oh, if that’s what you’re after, they got one of them buggers up at the Polveanan Hotel now. Spa too. I like one of them bad boys. Very relaxing. We’ll do it one day, shall we? Get Hannah to have a day off, she works so hard, bless her. Looking after the kiddies, keeping that job going. She’s a ruddy marvel. What do you say? All girls together.’

Chloe wanted to say it would take more than a spa day to reconcile herself with Hannah but thought it wiser to keep quiet. Her mother was reaching out. ‘Why not?’

Her mother beamed, then focused on Ziggy who was chewing at whatever he’d dropped. ‘What’s that you got, boy?’

Chloe followed her gaze. The spaniel was nosing at a straw-filled bit of nylon. She peered closer. ‘That looks like Pinky’s leg!’

‘You been on the scrumpy, maid? ’Tis a bit early for that malarkey.’

Chloe explained about the scarecrow and how it had ended up bearing a strong resemblance to Pinky.

Her mother guffawed. ‘We just come past the bakery. Thought Ziggy was nosing about at something. I got distracted by Spotty Jo stopping me to tell me about her cruise she’s going on. Lucky mare. This is the best laugh I’ve had so far this day.’ She giggled again and then sobered. ‘But don’t tell the man himself, he’ll set the piskies on you.’ She made a face. ‘And you don’t want that.’ Clicking her tongue at the spaniel who picked up his trophy, looking very pleased with himself, she set off down the lane. ‘See you later,’ she called over her shoulder, her camouflage-patterned Dryrobe billowing behind her like a cape.

Saying hello to the couple who were braving the chilly sea breeze and keeping Pinky Scarecrow company on the outside table, Chloe pushed open the door of the café. Pinky, even though minus a leg, was still sitting in state and was now surrounded by pumpkins. He even had one sat in his lap. Pretty orange and black bunting decorated the window and fluttered in the wind. All Amber’s work, she assumed.

‘Hi, Amber.’ Greeting the girl, she breathed in the warming and autumnal aroma of spice. ‘Ooh, has Pammy baked more of those ginger biscuits? They flew the last time she made some.’

Amber, her white-blonde hair tied up in a black and orange patterned scarf, wicked black liner flicking at her eyes, grinned. ‘She so has. They’re dead lush.’ Leaning over the counter, she said conspiratorially, ‘But I’m also trying out a cinnamon spiced latte. That’s what you can smell. Want to try one? The syrup you ordered came in yesterday. Customers outside have had a couple. Going down ever so well, they are.’

‘Oh, Amber, you’re a star. I’d murder one. Was craving one on the walk down. But does Pammy approve?’

Amber pulled a face. ‘Not exactly. So I said I’d trial them. Said it was the perfect time of the year, like, what with all the autumn goings on, and Halloween.’ The crashing and banging heard from the kitchen told of Pammy’s mood. Amber winced. ‘Know what? I don’t think it’s about flavoured coffees, I think it’s cos she’s scared of the coffee machine.’

Chloe examined the state-of-the-art machine that had recently been installed, gleaming in the sunshine. ‘Understandable. He’s a scary beast.’