In Clemmie’s flat at Seaspray Cottage
Excruciating suggestions and decisive action
The next evening, Wednesday
In spite of me sending Clemmie and Charlie photos of their fur babies at least once an hour, at some time every day they do a FaceTime call for a proper catch-up. It’s top secret, but they’re notonlyin Sweden for a holiday. Charlie’s lifelong friend is a consultant at one of the top fertility clinics out there, so when they found they were unlikely to have a baby without IVF, he was the one they turned to for help. Luckily they can afford both the private treatment and the travel, and they’ve got some embryos now. But after their first short trip for treatment came to nothing, this time they’ve opted for a longer stay so they can relax and boost their chances of success.
This evening we started the FaceTime call showing them Pancake blissing out on my cardi. My screen fills with Clemmie’s tumble of auburn curls as she comes in for a closer look. ‘Typical Pancake, and I see Diesel’s comfy on the pink velvet sofa. I hope the girls are looking afteryou?’
‘They’ve given me a great welcome.’ I point the phone to give her the full benefit of Diesel asleep on his back, legs in the air, and move the conversation on before she has time for more mermaid suggestions. ‘We walked right round to Comet Cove earlier.’ It was Diesel’s idea, not mine, and my legs feel like they might be dropping off.
Charlie’s low voice cuts in. ‘Who’d have thought we’d ever see Egbert walk so far?’
If Charlie’s calling me by my childhood nickname Egbert he must be especially grateful. Egbert began with Egg-and-cress-y, and I was glad of anything less stuffy than Cressida. When I first came up with Cressida Cupcake for my YouTube clips, it was a joke. But then nothing else had the same ring, so in the end it stuck.
Clemmie’s laughing. ‘Just warning you, if Pancake’s wheedled her way onto your cashmere, she’ll be there until we get home. Any other news?’
I shiver as I think about yesterday. ‘There was dog therapy which wentreallywell, and I’m just doinglots and lotsof recipe testing. Truly, I’m in baking heaven.’
I’ve been washing-up non-stop since I got here, but it’s still way more chaotic than it was when Clemmie left it, so I keep the mess out of shot. And I definitely mustn’t let them know about the lost book contract, or Charlie will insist on filling up my bank account. The point is, he’s rich because he worked his ass off and I’ve never taken handouts. Me supporting myself is a matter of honour; I’d metaphorically die before I asked for help. They have three months of enforced relaxation to cover on top of their clinic bills, and the beautiful Scandi beach houses they’ve chosen must be costing shedloads. Rich as they are, they really do need every penny for themselves right now, so I cram the next few minutes with pet details so they won’t guess anything’s wrong.
And just when I think I’ve got away with it, Clemmie fills the screen again. ‘There’s a Polaroid camera and film in the green dresser. You’re welcome to use it, then you can show me what you’ve baked. It’ll be wonderful to see your recipe book coming together, day by day!’
Damn. I hadn’t thought that one through. ‘Thanks, Clemmie, Polaroids would be useful for making the final selections. And I could run my chapter ideas past you too – that’s if you don’t mind?’
Clemmie’s eyes are bright. ‘I’d love to be involved. I’m really missing the Little Cornish Kitchen, it’ll make me feel useful.’
‘Great, that’s sorted then!’ I hope no one from the village accidentally tells them the truth. But if I was looking for an incentive to do the book on spec, this might be it.
As Clemmie waves goodbye Charlie’s face fills my screen again. ‘One last thing before I go – I was talking to Ross last night.’
My stomach drops. ‘Really?’ I hate that his name sends bits of my body into freefall. ‘He was visiting up at Kittiwake Court when we were there.’ Charlie has no idea about my complications in the past with Ross; as the timing was so bad, we kept it from him.
Charlie pauses. ‘He offered to come and stay at the flat to give you a hand with the crew.’
‘Hedid what?’Shit, he can’t possibly be thinking of it seriously?
‘You two always got on so well and Ross is literally sleeping in a cupboard up at the surgery.’ Charlie sounds hell bent on pushing this. ‘Another pair of hands might be good foryouif you’re finding it hard.’
I’m definitely not going to echothatnegative language. ‘Who says I’m not breezing through this?’
He coughs. ‘No one –absolutely no one– has mentioned you’re struggling, okay?’
It’s getting worse. This can only be one person, and even for him it’s low. Ross plants the metaphorical seeds of doubt then rides in on his bloody white charger to take over the spare room. Of all the unexpected disasters I’ve had lately, this would be the hugest yet! I need to put this fire out before it takes hold.
‘Ross and I both havehugepersonalities and masses of professional accessories. There just isn’t enough room here for both of usanda dog the size of Diesel.’ I don’t give Charlie time to remember that I’m the youngest of six kids, so making do with small is what I’m good at. Instead I whizz on. ‘Let’s talk again tomorrow and revisit this in a couple of weeks. Okay, byeeeeeee.’
And then I do something I never do: I end the call.
7
At Kittiwake Court
Carnage, chaos and random chatter
The next afternoon, Thursday
‘Has everyone got a cupcake?’
