In the garden at Seaspray Cottage
Fancy dress and planning officers
Thursday
Coming back this time was very different. Every other visit I’ve been plotting my escape even before the plane touched down. This time I spend the flight checking my shopping list over and over again, and when I land in Exeter my legs are so wobbly I almost fall down the plane steps. Charlie wasn’t joking about me getting back first. Plum and I do a late-night shop and we’re already pushing our loaded trolley across the Waitrose car park in Exeter and Charlie is still only driving through Dorset. As Plum and I make our way along the path from the harbour there aren’t enough words to say how wonderful it is to see the moon rising up the twilight sky over the bay and hear the gentle rush of the breakers in the background. As we haul the shopping bags up to the kitchen the thyme and beeswax smell of the hall and the familiar creak of stairs are like the house welcoming me home and wrapping itself around me. By the time Diesel bursts in from the balcony a couple of hours later the night air is heavy with the scent of sponge, and there are trays of tiny cupcakes cooling on every kitchen surface. Then Charlie saunters in with that soft smile and my heart melts. This time I don’t have to fight to keep my hands off him. I slide my fingers through his hair, throw myself against his chest, and bury myself in the longest sweetest kiss of my life.
When Charlie wakes me next morning with a snog and a tray of coffee, bacon and scrambled eggs, he’s already dressed and ready to leave for a ten o’clock meeting. As soon as I’m showered I start putting plates and china cups into boxes ready to take downstairs for this afternoon then I start to work my way down Sophie’s final menu list. Every item has the word ‘mini’ in front, except the drinks, which say large. According to Sophie, so long as food’s small enough to fit in a child’s mouth it has zero calories. Obviously, the low-level food will be healthy veggie sticks and cheesy chunks and teensy wholemeal sandwiches, and she mentioned a higher picnic table to keep the chocolate, cakes and twiglets up at mums’ level.
When I nip down to the garden for mint sprigs at twelve, it’s still just the usual grass and trees. It looks like Charlie and Sophie gave up on the tables, but realistically this is kids playing on the lawn. Sophie’s left the stripy blankets in a pile on the patchwork sofa and they’ll be fine to sit on. So, I dash back upstairs and while the extra small vegan sausage rolls are cooking, I chop the veggies and I’m just finishing slicing up the fruit for the drinks when Sophie, Milla and Maisie arrive.
Sophie comes in for a huge hug. ‘I’m so happy that you’re back.’ She beams and pushes a sleeping Maisie in her car seat under the kitchen table. ‘Right, Milla’s going to help you upstairs, Clems. My Dainty Dusters ladies are here to carry boxes of cups and plates down, then we’ll come back for the food and drinks. The ground floor flat’s open, we’ll pop things in the fridges there.’ She sounds like her mind’s on the job, although a carrying team of six sounds like over-kill for a picnic, but maybe that’s how you think when you’re heading for life in a castle.
As I grin at Sophie, I’m so happy to be back too. ‘Brill, the fruit cocktails are in the fridge here. There’s strawberry, and watermelon and lime, we’ll add more fruit pieces when we serve them.’ As Sophie grabs the first box and rushes out, I hand Milla the packs of blue gingham serviettes last seen on Sophie’s photo. ‘Would you like to fold these while I pipe some icing?’ As I finish the swirl of turquoise, I hand Milla the first cupcake. ‘Here, you’d better be my tester.’ I take the second for myself. One mouthful, and the sweetness of the buttercream melting onto my tongue and I’m truly back in the game. However hard it’s going to be to find a new home for the Little Cornish Kitchen to pop up in, it’s going to be worth it.
‘Yummy.’ She’s brushing the crumbs off her lips. ‘And I love your dress, Clemmie, it’s nearly the same as the bunting.’
I’m frowning down at the sprinkling of white stars across my orange dress that I’ve put on for good luck. ‘Which bunting?’
She clamps her hand to her mouth. ‘Actually, my bunting … that I’m choosing for my bedroom. We mustn’t go downstairs, Mum’s putting the food out, you know that, don’t you?’
I laugh. ‘With two hundred bite-size cakes to ice, and a thousand baby sandwiches to fill, we aren’t going anywhere.’ It’s funny how Milla’s already just as on top of things as Sophie. And with Dainty Dusters here on the job it flows like magic. As fast as we prepare things, they’re whisked away.
As Sophie dips in an hour later I’m shaking my head. ‘You’ve made so many trips up and down, when you first suggested this I only thought of the loos not the carrying.’ I’m going to have to be sharper when I’m searching. Then I remind myself, I may not have much choice. When I think I may not findanywheresuitable I shiver, then block that thought. From now on I’ve got to tough it out.
Sophie’s cheeks are flushed as she pushes back her hair. ‘That’s why we’ve got the helpers, my little treat, they’re staying to clear away too.’ She picks up Maisie who’s snored her way through all the preparation. ‘So if you’re ready with the last of the sandwiches, the first mums will be arriving any minute. Nate’s here already, Plum’s bringing Marcus and Tilly, and Joe’s on his way.’
‘I didn’t know dads came too.’ I’m kicking myself for sounding so sexist.
Sophie’s cheeks are pinker than ever. ‘Some of them are today.’
I take off my baking apron and give Sophie a squeeze on the way to the door. ‘I feel like a fraud here, all I’ve done is make the food.’
She hugs me back. ‘We can’t bring Dainty Dusters to every event, but today’s special because it’s like a whole new beginning for you.’
As we wind our way down the stairs, I’m hanging on to the excitement surging in my chest, to stop it fast forwarding to fear.
As we reach the half-landing the sunlight’s slanting through the tall sash window but Sophie tugs my skirt and whisks me past. ‘No peeping; wait until we’re down. Don’t worry, it’s looking lovely, but I want it to be a surprise.’ As we reach the ground floor hallway she takes my hand. ‘Close your eyes, I’ll lead you out.’
There’s a gust of warm salty air as we move towards the open door. I shuffle along next to Sophie thinking it’s a lot of fuss for a few carrot sticks on a kiddies’ table.
She guides me down the last step and out onto the herringbone brick path. ‘Okay, you can look now.’
As I open my eyes the first thing I see is bunting … bonkers amounts of bunting. It’s trailing down in parallel lines from the eaves to the garden wall, fluttering against the sky like an outdoor ceiling, draped between the fruit trees, along the fence, across the walls.
I spot the starry fabric Milla was talking about, and send her a grin through my happy tears. Then I shake my head to make sure it’s real. ‘There’s more bunting here than for the Fish Quay Festival, and the colours couldn’t be more perfect.’ There’s orange and blue and pink and green flags with flowers and stripes and shells. ‘And look at the lawn … How did you do this so fast? A couple of hours ago the garden was empty.’
Sophie’s laughing across at Nate and Charlie. ‘One mention of cupcakes, you should see these guys go.’
I’m looking past the bright splashes of rugs spread out across the grass. ‘Oh my, you brought furniture too?’ At the far end of the lawn there are pale green metal chairs with curly bits, and tables with parasols and mums sitting around them. ‘It’s allsopretty.’
Nate gives me a wink. ‘She did promise usallthe cakes.’
My knees are sagging. ‘It couldn’t look more beautiful.’
Charlie gives a low laugh and comes over and gives my hand a squeeze. ‘It’ll be even better when the food comes out.’
As if on cue, the French windows to the ground floor flat swing open, and the first wave of Dainty Dusters ladies proceed across the grass carrying tiered cake stands laden with the teensy cakes and snacks I’ve been making. The second wave follow with the pink and orange fruit cocktails in big glass containers with taps and take them over to the table where Laura’s second-best flowery china cups are spread out in colouful lines. Then as the ladies move around the tables with drinks of cups on trays lots more mums and children arrive.
