Page 8 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

Josh leaned forward and took the other half. Crunching into it with his very white teeth, he asked, ‘Now tell me why you’re called Ginger when even I can see your hair is a rather nice light brown.’ When she hesitated, he added, ‘Okay, I’ll go first. My real name is Joshua Foxall. Ralph is my middle name. I was named after my father. They made me change it as Joshua Ralph is supposed to sound sexier. More English.’ He grimaced. ‘I mean, me, sexy?’

Ginger wasn’t going to get into that. Even without all the starry charisma that he seemed to be able to turn on and off at will, she thought he was probably by far the sexiest male in Wheal Kitty Cove. And maybe in the whole of Cornwall.

‘So, come on, why Ginger?’

‘My mum craved ginger when she was pregnant with me. It’s nothing very exciting really.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘And it stuck. If someone calls me Melissa, I know it’s official or I’m in trouble.’

‘Like with Dana? I’m sorry about her. Val’s supposed to be the bodyguard, but Dana is far more suited to the role. She’s a real New Yorker. Tough as old boots and takes no prisoners.’ He took another biscuit and dunked it. ‘Got to say, she’s amazingly efficient, though.’

‘And I was being honest about the wifi. We do have it in the village but it’s a bit temperamental. You only have to go up onto the coastal path to get a better signal, though. Up by Wheal Kitty.’

‘Wheal Kitty?’

‘It’s the tin mine up on the north hill. You can see it from the beach. The coastal path runs right by it. Great walk. Fairly quiet. You’ll need proper boots, though.’ Ginger looked doubtfully down at Josh’s lily-white high-top trainers.

‘I’ve got boots. I’ve got most things.’

Ginger grinned. ‘I noticed you weren’t exactly travelling light.’

‘A couple of cases are books and notebooks. I want to work on something while I’m here.’

He didn’t elaborate so Ginger didn’t press him for more information, even though she was intrigued. Experience proved her creative guests often didn’t want to discuss their projects in case they jinxed the ideas. Instead, she changed the subject. ‘How do you want things to work while you’re staying here?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can offer you as much or as little as you need. I can cook breakfast or leave stuff for you. Can do the same for dinner, too. You can use as much or as little of the house as you want. The sitting room and kitchen are all yours. I’d appreciate it if you kept out of my treatment room, though.’

‘Treatment room?’

‘I offer reiki, or massage. Sometimes meditation.’

‘To your guests?’

‘Yes. And I have regular clients who come here.’ When she saw his face drop, she added quickly, ‘Don’t worry, though, the room has its own door so there’ll no need to disturb you.’

‘Do I eat breakfast and dinner here?’

‘You can, if that’s what you want. Most guests do.’ She skimmed a glance round the kitchen, at its Victorian sash windows giving a view onto the beach and the Cornish sky beyond, the Belfast sink, the old station clock she’d found in an antiques shop in Truro and hung on the wall, at the homely red-checked curtains, the battered leather sofa in the corner, and at navy-blue Nigella dominating the space. ‘Most end up in here for some reason. When I have a full house, it can be a good vibe. Some groups gel really well, others not so much.’ She shrugged. ‘I go with the flow, pick up what each guest wants. Seeing as you’re the sole guest you can dictate what you want and I’ll do my best to oblige.’

Josh snaffled the last biscuit. After crunching it for a while, he answered. ‘If your cooking is as good as these cookies, I’d like you to make breakfast and dinner. Lunch I’m not too bothered about.’

‘I can leave bread, cheese. There’s always some home-made soup.’ Ginger nodded to the bowl full of apples and pears. ‘I keep the fruit bowl full and there’s always yoghurt in the fridge.’

He nodded. ‘Sounds perfect. I want to be left on my own, enjoy some peace, do a bit of walking, lots of reading.’ He looked down, lips compressed. ‘For the last five years everyone’s torn off a piece of me. The promo for the last film just about finished me off. Nine countries in two weeks.’ He looked up and held her gaze. Ginger could see the tiredness camouflaged by the tan, the pucker of exhaustion around the eyes. ‘I just need to regroup. Get myself together.’ Inhaling, he released a pent-up breath. ‘Get my sleeping pattern back on track.’

‘And you couldn’t do this in LA?’

Josh snorted. ‘There’s everything you want there, as long as you have the money to buy it. Plus a pill for every ill.’ He shook his head. ‘I needed to get out of that world. It always felt alien and I got tired of fighting that.’

‘Ironic considering the last film I saw you in you were battling zombies in space.’ Ginger spoke without thinking.

Josh laughed. Suddenly and uproariously. Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, he said, ‘Oh I needed that laugh. You saw that, then?’

‘It was on in Truro.’ She screwed up her face. ‘Not quite my thing but my friend’s little boy lapped it up.’

‘How old?’

‘Eight.’