‘Coffee. The answer to all life’s traumas.’
Oscar handed Katie a mug that in a previous life had advertised a local newspaper but now sported splodges of clay and sunflower-yellow paint. She smiled her thanks and took a sip, inhaling the delicious, taste-bud-tingling aroma that she relied on to wake her up every morning.
‘So, welcome to Perrinby. I’m sorry I didn’t come round to introduce myself earlier but I had no idea that Agatha had decided to lease the café. I hope your encounter with our local property rottweiler hasn’t put you off. I’ve only been here for six months, but I can assure you that everyone in the village is exceptionally friendly and welcoming. We all have as little to do with Greg Forbes as possible in case he swoops in and snatches our “prime seafront real estate” from under our noses.’
‘Ah, so that’s why no one would hand over Agatha’s details?’
‘Yes. Oh, no, you didn’t …’
Katie laughed at the look of panic that spread across Oscar’s handsome face.
‘No, I didn’t, but I nearly did.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Oscar swiped the back of his hand across his forehead in a theatrical gesture, his lips twisting into a cute smirk before becoming more serious. ‘Forbes & Mortimer has already been instrumental in killing off one community over the border in Devon after the company bought up two vacant shops, eradicated every last smidgeon of character from the buildings, and then sold them on as second homes, despite the objections of the local residents who were desperate to maintain a viable business community. It wasn’t long before the only remaining shop closed down and now the village has no amenities whatsoever, which is something the people of Perrinby are fighting to avoid.’
Oscar grabbed a white wooden chair and swung it round to sit astride, peering at Katie from over the rim of his coffee cup with interest.
‘So, is running a café in Cornwall a long-held dream of yours?’
Oscar was regarding her with such obvious hope that she averted her gaze to concentrate on her own coffee. How could she confess that her plan was to give the café a quick lick of paint, toss a few colourful throws and woven mats about the place and then, when the whole enterprise failed on its feet, she would post the keys back to Agatha and admit that her friend’s faith in her had been misplaced?
‘I …’
‘Salut! Am I right in thinking you’re our new arrival? Cherie, welcome.’
Before Katie knew what was happening, she found herself engulfed in a fragrant hug and in receipt of two exuberant air kisses. When she was eventually released, she saw a tall, slender guy, dressed head-to-toe in black – hand-stitched leather loafers, designer jeans and skin-tight T-shirt that accentuated his impressive physique – with a skin-care regime to rival the world’s top models and a manicure that caused a spasm of jealousy. With his sexy French accent and neatly barbered mahogany quiff, he was the complete opposite to the surfer-dude look Oscar rocked.
‘Katie, allow me to introduce you to Javier Bertrand …’
‘Oscar, darling, you know my friends call me Jay!’
Katie laughed. ‘Hi, Jay, pleased to meet you.’
‘Likewise, darling. If there’s one thing this village desperately needs, it’s fresh faces. Has Oscar told you that we threw a spectacular party when he arrived to take over this gorgeous little art gallery? Bunting, toffee apples, chocolate brownies, mulled wine, fireworks, the lot!’
‘It was Hallowe’en, Jay!’ Oscar smirked, rolling his eyes in Katie’s direction. ‘And if that party was for me it was more likely to send me running for the hills – some of those costumes were particularly gruesome, especially Ruby’s. Coffee?’
‘Oh, you’re an absolute saviour! Not a drop has passed my lips since five o’clock this morning. I’ve had a particularly highly strung bride to talk down from a precipice of panic after her nan told her that according to some ancient folklore yellow roses are a no-no at a wedding. And then Talia messed up the Bradshaw order, sending Arthur Madeley’s funeral wreath to Gertie Farrier’s sixtieth birthday celebrations. You know, that girl is a complete liability – I have no idea how Agatha put up with her at the café.’
‘Talia used to waitress for Agatha before she left for Bali,’ explained Oscar as he handed a black coffee over to Jay. Katie couldn’t prevent a splutter of amusement from escaping her lips when she saw Jay’s upper lip curl at the sight of the misshaped earthenware mug covered in dribbles of bright orange oil paint. ‘And in case you haven’t guessed, Jay owns the florist’s shop across the road – Bootylicious Bouquets – although he also doubles up as custodian of the village grapevine.’
‘Is it wrong to take a healthy interest in other people’s business?’ And as if to prove himself worthy of his Badge of Honour, Jay removed his gold-rimmed John Lennon sunglasses and fixed Katie with his razor-sharp hazel eyes, making her feel as if he was scouring her soul for her innermost secrets. ‘So, Katie, how do you know our wonderful Agatha?’
Katie had no intention of sharing her full history with Oscar and Jay. She knew the pain of her broken relationship reflected in her eyes; she was dealing with that, but it was still a work in progress. She didn’t want them to feel sorry for her, to know that someone she had invested her trust in had gone on to abandon her without so much as a backward glance. Coming to Cornwall was an opportunity to start again, and that meant disguising her broken heart and shattered dreams.
‘Oh, I met her when I was on an extended backpacking holiday in Bali and we clicked straight away. I loved what she was trying to do there, especially the cookery school she’s set up to train disadvantaged teenagers in the skills needed to find work in the hotels, guesthouses and restaurants in Sanur. I helped her to run a couple of workshops on sugar craft – which is kind of my specialised subject.’
‘So she’s doing okay over there then, is she?’ asked Jay, his features softening.
‘More than okay.’ Katie laughed, her thoughts scooting back to her new friend and the person she had to thank for setting her on the road towards a new future. ‘She’s really embraced the Balinese way of life; she practises yoga daily, wears a sarong, leaves regular offerings for the gods, and is giving lots back to the local community.’
‘And she’s managed to chase away the demons of her past?’
‘Absolutely! I can honestly report that she’s happier than she’s ever been – her words, not mine. Whenever I was in her company, no matter how hot and sweaty the kitchen got, I felt calm, relaxed – as though the turmoil of the outside world was a million miles away. Actually, I’m thinking of adding a twist of Balinese serenity when I revamp the café – focusing on kindness and consideration for others – as well as trying out a few Indonesian cake recipes alongside the typically Cornish fayre.’
Katie could hear the note of pride in her voice and her cheeks coloured. She was surprised she felt so attached to her idea when it was currently only an image in her imagination, albeit a vibrant one.
‘Alors, I love it!’ declared Jay, his eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Great branding choice – I can totally picture the ambience of le petit café from just those three little words – kindness, community and cake. I see natural fabrics, carved wooden mobiles, maybe a wind chime or two, and I might be able to rustle up some gardenias and frangipani for a little floral authenticity. So, are you planning to completely redecorate?’