Page 7 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

‘It’s the kettle. I was making tea.’ Ginger raised her voice over the noise.

‘Tea sounds perfect, Ginger.’ Josh began to steer Dana to the front door. ‘Make mine a builder’s, with milk. And two sugars.’

‘Josh, think of your system,’ Dana shrieked. ‘You don’t eat sugar. It makes your skin break out.’

‘I do now.’ He took his assistant by the shoulders and pushed her gently out of the house. ‘Back in a mo, Ginger.’

‘I’ll be in the kitchen.’ Ginger gestured across the hall. ‘It’s just through that door there.’ She escaped the terrifying Dana and went to relieve Nigella of the racket the kettle was making.

CHAPTER 5

An hour later, Joshua and Ginger were sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea. The first pot had gone cold while she waited for Dana and Valentine, an enormous driver-bodyguard, to carry the luggage upstairs. She’d put Joshua in the best room, the one at the front, with its stunning sea views of the bay and Grey Seal Island. As she’d shown them all in and opened the white shutters, she couldn’t help but feel a prickle of pride. Surely no one could object to this?

Dana had sniffed, peered around and pronounced, ‘Has a certain simple charm.’

And now they’d gone, Valentine easing the sleek limo back down the lane. A smaller hire car, better suited to Cornwall’s notoriously narrow roads, was arriving the following day.

‘Would you like more tea, Mr Ralph?’

Josh held out his mug. ‘Fill me up. You have no idea how much I’ve missed British tea. And it’s Josh, please. I’d love another biscuit, too.’

Ginger poured him more tea and passed him the plate of biscuits.

‘They taste home-made.’

‘They are. I baked a batch this morning. Oat and honey. Not too naughty.’

‘They’re delicious.’ He bit into one, cupping his hand under his chin to catch the crumbs. ‘Are you a healthy eater?’

Ginger shrugged. ‘I try.’

‘Vegetarian?’

‘I’m not. I eat meat but make sure I know the animal has had a good life. The butcher in Polveanan is organic and gets meat from local farmers.’

‘I grew up in Stafford. Family of seven. You ate what you were given or didn’t eat at all. Not big on healthy eating unless forced. In the States there’s always a new diet. Low carb, no sugar, low fat, supplements for everything and anything. No alcohol.’

He looked so miserable at the prospect, Ginger laughed. ‘Doesn’t sound too bad,’ she said neutrally, not wanting to offend. ‘I expect you need to look after yourself. Filming can be gruelling, or so I understand.’

‘Last film was crazy long hours,’ Josh agreed. He thrust a hand through his thick, dark hair. ‘Lots of night filming. Wrecks the sleep pattern. And the energy levels. You mentioned Polveanan?’

‘It’s our nearest town. Small but has the usual things. A few shops, the library and community centre. You drove through it to get to Wheal Kitty Cove. There’s only the one road. Polveanan’s two miles away.’ She observed him as he sipped his tea. Whatever she’d anticipated, she hadn’t expected this. Joshua Ralph was… nice. If you ignored the fact he was a mega film star worth millions, he was actually very normal. And, while he was undoubtedly a good-looking guy, he seemed to have turned off the ‘star charisma’ projected when he’d first greeted her. Looking at him in his baseball cap, baggy shorts and faded T-shirt, she didn’t think many in Wheal Kitty Cove would recognise him as the star from the film recently shown in Truro. Keeping him under the radar might be easier than she’d feared.

‘And is that where the nearest pub is?’ the Hollywood star now asked. ‘After tea, the next thing on my list is a pint.’

‘We’ve a pub in the village. The Olde Smugglers’ Inn. It’s side on to the seafront. Within walking distance.’

‘Oh yeah, of course, I remember seeing that. Big white building? There’s a sort of garden in front?’

‘Ticky Tacky Green.’ She laughed at his confusion. ‘No one knows why it’s called that. Doubles up as the pub’s beer garden. Scene of much Morris dancing, and the annual autumn funfair. The village is really only one street, Beach Lane. Very quiet. A few houses, a couple of cafés, a tourist souvenir shop, but that’s only open in high season, and an art gallery. But we have an autumn barbecue on the slipway run by Ivo Heath.’

‘Hey. I’ve heard of him. The TV chef guy?’

Ginger nodded. ‘He has a restaurant in St Ives but was born in the village. Does the barbecue every year. Open to everyone who’s around. Fireworks too. It’s a great evening.’

‘Hope I’m still here. Sounds a great place to live.’

‘It is.’ Ginger considered her answer and then repeated it. ‘It really is. I love it here.’ She picked up a biscuit, broke it in half and began to eat it.