It would have been too much to hope they weren’t going to mention it. I force a smile.‘My time on there was sweet but very short.’
Going on a bake-off show for internet bakers sounded so much fun, and better still, it landed me my dream commission for two recipe books. But getting sent home the second week because my oven wouldn’t heat up wasn’t how it was supposed to end. And even worse, the editing made my gateau look way more raw than it was in real life and blew my baking disaster out of all proportion. But by that time it was out of my hands.And given the fallout I’m dealing with now, I’d say it was cracking bad judgement too.
Sophie gives me a wink. ‘Don’t undersell yourself, Cressy Cupcake, it was amazing to get onSocial’s Biggest Bakers!at all.’ She nods at the giant tower of fancies and muffins at the centre of the table, pushes back a chair for me and starts handing round plates. ‘Anyway I’m Sophie, this is Nell, and that’s Plum. It’s wonderful to meet you, let’s get on with the tea.’
As my phone pings in the depths of my bag I know it’ll be more hate comments about uncooked middles. Despite the lack of phone signal at this far end of England where the last bit of land pokes out into the sea, there’s still a deluge of the damned things. It won’t last for ever. This is just a temporary downturn I’ve got to ride out.
So long as I keep my eye on the bigger picture I can sidestep a total meltdown. I’ve got twelve blissful weeks ahead of me with nothing to do but bake and look after the pets. The sun is sparking off the bright azure sea and Diesel’s curled up next to my chair. Sophie waves the cake tongs and I nod to a popping candy cupcake, a white chocolate muffin, a sticky slab of chocolate brownie and a flapjack slab the size of a bath sponge. Then as Nell passes round cups of tea my watering mouth tells me for the moment there’s no need to fake it. As far as true happiness goes, for me the next hour is sorted.
The blueberry muffin Plum is biting into is almost as big as her head. ‘You’re going to love being in Clemmie’s side of the attic flat, Cressy, it’ssocosy and you can see right around the bay.’
It’s great to move the focus off me, and she’s right; it’s the most amazing place to stay. Before Clemmie and Charlie got together, they were neighbours on the top floor of Seaspray Cottage, which is a pebble’s throw from here, just round the corner from the harbour’s end. Clemmie’s place belonged to her grandmother, who crammed it with jewel colours and random clutter that’s all still there, whereas Charlie’s side of the top floor has a more minimalist, luxury vibe.
I laugh. ‘And while I enjoy the views of the sea from Clemmie’s ancient pink sofa, the decorators are taking over next door at Charlie’s.’ The downside of huge white spaces is how often they need repainting, especially with Diesel living there.
Sophie’s eyes are bright. ‘Clemmie mentioned you’ll be busy working on your first book?’
‘That’s the plan.’ The contracts are due any day, and the stonking advance is what I’m counting on to see me through until the bake-off bollocks dies down and the book writing is done. Living in London doesn’t come cheap, but thanks to this windfall my finances are looking rosy for the first time ever. The money hasn’t hit my account yet, but the moment it does, my agent will let me know, which is why, despite the patchy signal, my nose is glued to my phone screen. ‘I’ll be using the next few weeks to check all the recipes and make the final selections.’
Sophie’s laughing. ‘Clemmie was convinced you’d be bored out here in the sticks, so we’ve promised to keep you entertained.’
Her offer is making my chest tighten because I’d counted on today being the end of the mermaid intervention. ‘Truly, I’m looking forward to relaxing at home.’ Not wanting to be rude, but my life has been all kinds of crazy since my Cressida Cupcake blog took off. More importantly, I have to get the book fully completed and submitted while I’m here.
From the way her jaw drops, she’s not used to getting knocked back, but she recovers fast. ‘Lucky for you, I’m over every meditation class in the area. Give me a yell and we’ll pencil in some chill time.’
Nell’s lips are twitching. ‘And if you’d rather have fun rather than fall asleep, there are our singles events. We’re very inclusive, couples and committeds are welcome too.’
I should have known this was coming because Nell’s singles club was all over Clemmie’s notes, but the kick in my gut now she mentions it catches me off-guard.
‘I fly solo, and that’s how I’ll be staying.’ We’re already being quite shouty, but that comes out so loud, the people at the nearby tables turn to look. Except for a guy with fabulous shoulders rippling through his shirt, who doesn’t flinch but runs his fingers through his dark hair and stares resolutely along the beach. I kick myself for my shriek, lower my voice and try again. ‘Thanks all the same, but I’ll probably give those a miss.’
Couple-y activities, in St Aidan of all places, hold too many echoes for me. The one and only time I lost my head to anything resembling love was over a decade ago and that was when I was here on holiday.
Soon after Faye died Charlie had moved down to Cornwall and a load of us came to keep him company over Christmas and ended up renting a big house on the coast road. There I was, bursting with the certainty that goes with turning twenty, holed up at the end of the world with Charlie’s best friend from uni, Ross Bradbury, whom I’d fancied the pants off since I first gasped at his pecs and stubble shadows as a sassy fourteen-year-old. I like to pretend it was mutual attraction but I suspect I flung myself at him so hard there was nothing he could do but catch me.
The images of those few days used to be sharp as laser cuts in my mind, but over-viewing has blurred them to softer focus. All I know is, nothing since ever came even halfway close. But that was maybe because, like all the best holiday flings, there was a water-tight guarantee that it was for now, not for ever. We kept it under wraps because the last thing Charlie needed back then was his best friend and his sister making out under the mistletoe.
Even as the waves thrashed over the promenade and I leaned in to grab that first searing kiss, the end was already written in the sand. However tightly Ross wrapped me inside his coat and told me he’d never let go, we both knew the second we’d waved in the New Year that he was flying off for an exchange at a veterinary faculty in the States and I was going back to my media studies at uni in Brighton. As things panned out, it ran on to a more painful conclusion we hadn’t foreseen. But what that time taught me made me who I am today; since then the only person I’ll ever ask anything of is myself.
What’s more, I’m shocked at how stirred up I am now. All those years ago I promised myself to put what happened behind me. To take note, and move on. And until my wobble a moment ago I’d have sworn that’s what I’d done.
Nell gives a shrug. ‘No pressure at all to join in. Unless you’re into gardening clubs or OAP discos, the social scene isn’t exactly buzzing here otherwise.’
‘I’ll most likely be working flat-out. The recipes are my priority.’ I’m racking my brain to remember what else Clemmie wrote about Nell so I can smooth this over.
Loves a pork sandwich, parents live at Forget-me-not Farm…
I seize my chance.‘Talking of baking,aren’t you my go-to woman for eggs? Three dozen would be brilliant to start off with, please.’So long as I act like everything’s fine, no one will ever guess any different. That was one of Charlie’s hot tips for getting through the bad times, although compared to him losing his life partner, my problems have been the teensiest of blips. The one positive thing about a tragedy in the family is that difficulties that come after feel like nothing at all.
Nell brightens. ‘The eggs are all free range, I can even tell you the names of the hens that laid them. I’ll pop them round later.’
It might work best if I take control of the invitations here. ‘I’ll be doing my try-outs every day so there will be cake, tea and colourful cushions any time you fancy dropping in.’ Seriously, with the amount of stairs they have to stagger up to reach the flat, they definitely won’t.
Plum waves her ginger slice at me. ‘Cressida Cupcake’s personal handiworkandthe views from Seaspray Cottage? I’m in!’
‘You’re welcome any time.’ I hide my surprise by reaching down and scratching the top of Diesel’s head. It’s his flat more than mine, so I feel like I should be including him in this. ‘Isn’t that right, boy?’
I bite into the pile of popping candy on my cupcake and let the first delicious mouthful melt on my tongue. Smile as Diesel opens one lazy eye under the table. Sit back and listen to the sound of the waves rushing up the sand, then pulling back down again.
