Christmas at the Cornish Café: A heart-warming holiday read for fans of Poldark. Phillipa Ashley

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СКАЧАТЬ accommodate most of their cars. Cal opens his tablet and nods at me to look at the Harbour Lights website. It’s a ‘homemade’ site but I think the quirkiness is part of its charm. The photos of the twinkling snowmen and a giant shark fixed on the harbour walls make us both smile. ‘I loved the harbour lights when I was little, even when I was a teenager we looked forward to going down into St Trenyan with our mates.’

      ‘You and Luke? I’d have thought you were too cool for fairy lights.’

      ‘No way. It was a chance for Luke, Isla, Tamsin and me – plus a few others from school – to go down into St Trenyan for a night out without our parents keeping an eye on us. When we were in the sixth form whoever had a car would drive us down and the rest of us would try to sneak into the pubs or persuade someone over eighteen to buy us drinks that we could take outside. There were so many people around drinking and eating in the streets and the stalls that no one would notice. One year we got lashed on dodgy mulled wine from a stall and were as sick as dogs.’

      ‘Serves you right,’ I say, realising that Cal has definitely cut down on his drinking lately. Polly used to nag him about it when he first got home from the Middle East and was even worried, but since Isla left for London – and even before then – the empties have greatly reduced. I didn’t like to see him so pissed every night: it reminded me of my dad, who was even more of an ogre when he’d had a few drinks. After Mum died, he hit the bottle hard, met a new girlfriend and eventually I couldn’t stand the situation any longer and left home.

      ‘I haven’t been to the lights switch-on since I was young, though. I was either away at uni, or too cool or working abroad. Last year, the Christmas lights were the last thing on my mind.’

      His tone takes on a bitter edge; the same edge that I used to hear all the time when I first came to Kilhallon. It surfaces less frequently now but I know that his disappointment gnaws at him. His father passed away not long before he went to the Middle East on an aid project. Although that was two and half years ago, he’s bound to miss his dad and regret that they didn’t have a closer relationship. Then there’s the loss of Isla, of course, but there’s something else that causes him pain. Memories, worries, something to do with what he saw or went through in the Middle East. Something unimaginable that I’m sure still affects him way more than he ever lets on.

      He pushes the tablet away. ‘What about you?’

      ‘I never really took much notice of the lights. My main aim last year was finding a warm place for Mitch and me to stay. I’d just lost my job in Truro and was sofa surfing around friends and friends of friends. On the night of the lights, I was between sofas and hanging about until the people had left and the lights had been turned off until sundown the next day.

      He winces. ‘I had no idea.’

      ‘I remember how I felt after the lights went off and everyone had gone home. The place seemed twice as dead as it had before the switch-on. Mitch and I bunked down in an alley not far from Tamsin’s Spa.’ I also remember the smells of hot food, buttered rum punch, stollen, saffron cake, spicy mulled apple cider, rich hot chocolate, and the way they curled around me and drove me insane. Plus the feeling that I’d never been so lonely or such an outsider. Cal gathers me into his arms. Perhaps I didn’t hide the shiver as well as I thought I had.

      ‘I’m sorry. It must have been tough.’

      Tears sting my eyes and make me wish I’d never mentioned last November. I genuinely don’t want Cal’s sympathy – so why did I have to say so much? ‘Some of the poor people I saw had so many problems, I could have cried for them. Some will never get off the streets. I’m the lucky one. Look at me now: hosting an event for the village bigwigs. Who’d have thought it?’

      He smiles briefly. ‘Even so … Feel free to hit me, but have you given any more thought to contacting your family? Your father? Your brother? Sorry, I don’t even know his name.’

      ‘It’s Kyle. My dad’s called Gary.’

      ‘OK …’

      ‘And you’re right, I have given it some more thought and I still don’t want to speak to them. I don’t know exactly what Kyle’s doing now or even where he is and I refuse to ask my dad.’

      ‘But you know where your dad and his partner live?’

      ‘Near Redruth, as far as I know, that’s where they were living when I last spoke to him. Last I heard, Kyle joined the army. He left home before I did and went to share a flat with a mate in Truro, but I’m not sure that worked out, so he signed up. We weren’t close and he used to spend as much time as he could out of the house at his mates.’

      ‘Your dad must have been on his own a lot after your mum died.’

      ‘I suppose so. I was in the house though; he could have spoken to me if he’d wanted to. He just used to sit in his chair and drink cans and channel surf. I may as well have not existed, but he’s got her now. Rachel.’ I slap on a smile, feeling I’ve already raked over far too many old memories. ‘I thought you were in the army, remember, when I first saw you with the combats and bag?’

      Cal rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, I do, but I wasn’t.’

      ‘Do you remember where you were this time last year? During the Christmas lights?’

      He glances out of the window into the darkness. ‘I wasn’t exactly having a fun time, either.’

      His phone buzzes from the table, the sound magnified by the table top and the high ceiling of the empty cafe. He grimaces, then glances at the screen.

      ‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’

      He turns back to me, a grin on his face. Goosebumps prick my skin: I know what that look means.

      ‘No. I was thinking we might have time for a quick bite before the committee arrive. A hot vampire bite.’ He bares his teeth and while I pull a face at him, warm feelings stir at the jokey reminder of the nickname I had for him when we first met. He grazes the skin at the side of my neck with his teeth and it tingles. His breath is warm and I close my eyes in pleasure, trying to blot out the insistent throb of the mobile phone.

      ‘There’s no time,’ I murmur. ‘The committee will be here in twenty minutes.’

      ‘So? I like living dangerously. You told me to do it.’ His phone stops buzzing. ‘I told you, they can wait.’

      He kisses me, it’s deep and hot and it sparks a swirling sensation low in my stomach. I’m shaky with lust. He tangles his hands in my hair, tugging at the roots without realising, but so gently that the tension just drives me even more crazy.

      ‘Come on. Into the staff room.’ His voice is husky with desire as he leads me through the kitchen and into the store-cupboard-sized room that serves as our staff room. It’s warm in there, and the air smells of the pine disinfectant we keep in the cupboard. He backs me against the lockers and they rattle loudly.

      ‘What if they’re early?’

      ‘They can wait.’

      He shuts the door behind us while I pull off my Demelza’s sweatshirt and T-shirt. Cal unzips his jeans and slips them down, along with his boxers. Still standing, with me braced against the lockers, Cal lifts me onto him. We’re face to face and then he’s inside me. I melt like butter on a hot scone under his touch and close my eyes to everything around СКАЧАТЬ