Читать книгу Confetti at the Cornish Café - Phillipa Ashley - Страница 13

Two weeks later

Demi

‘Come in, out of this bitterly cold wind. Who’d ever think it was the first day of spring? Oh, let me see the babe. She’s turning into such a little poppet. Such a lovely name too. Classic … nothing made-up or daft like some have now, and the shawl is beautiful. Reminds me of one my grandma made for me back in the day.’

Rachel glows with pride as Polly coos over Freya Penelope, who is now fast asleep, her little pink face nestled in a lacy bundle of wool. One hand has escaped her wrappings and her tiny fingers are curled around a scrap of shawl as if she knows it’s been made just for her and she’ll never let it go.

Cal was right. This social occasion doesn’t involve Mawgan Cade and it’s been way more enjoyable than I expected. So what if the leading lady was a bit of a drama queen when St Trenyan’s vicar, affectionately known as Rev Bev, poured water over her head? One of the christening guests told me it’s considered lucky if the baby cries at that moment. In that case, Freya should go on to win the lottery several times over.

‘I bet you could hear her howls from the harbour,’ I whisper to Cal, following the christening party out of the raw March afternoon into the warmth of Demelza’s. Despite the cutting wind, Kilhallon seems to have burst into life since Ben and Lily’s visit a few weeks ago. The sunnier hedgerows are already dotted with yellow primroses and the copse is studded with little white flowers that Polly told me are wood anemones.

Rachel’s sister and cousin did the honours as godmothers while Kyle acted as Freya’s godfather. I didn’t mind not being asked. I’m not religious and also I think Dad knew that I wouldn’t want the spotlight on me in such a public way. I’m far more comfortable handling the venue and catering – and most of all, I’m just so happy to be Freya’s big sister.

I watched Kyle taking on the role of godfather in quiet amazement. It’s been almost three years and he’s shot up: he’s a good few inches taller than Dad, and even a bit taller than Cal. Even though he’s in a suit, you can tell he’s in the army from the way he stands very upright and proud, with his shoulders back. His tawny hair is cropped short and his tanned cheeks are chiselled from all the exercise and drills. I have also never seen his shoes more shiny: when he was young, Mum could never get him out of his battered old Converses or trainers.

We didn’t have much time to chat at the church as we were a little late arriving but managed a quick word and a hug while a few photos were taken in the church porch. Now we’re back at the cafe, I’m hoping to catch up some more with Kyle.

Cal starts taking people’s coats and I head to the kitchens to make sure Polly and Robyn are OK with laying out the buffet. All the staff have had the afternoon off.

Polly practically bundles me out of the kitchen. ‘No, Demi, you’re not coming in here today.’

‘Polly’s so right,’ Robyn adds, words I never thought I’d hear from her as she’s generally not our blunt PA’s biggest fan. ‘You’re going to relax and enjoy the party. You must have so many people to catch up with, especially Kyle. He’s quite cute, if he was my thing, that is.’

‘Ha ha,’ I say. ‘Are you sure I can’t help out with the tea and coffee? Have the ovens been OK? Because I was worried you’d have trouble with the temperature control. They’re so different to the Aga.’

‘Demi. Get out of here!’ Polly and Robyn chime in unison and Robyn virtually frogmarches me into the cafe area. The truth is that I’d feel far more comfortable in the kitchen or behind the serving counter than making small talk and facing family I haven’t spoken to for years. Some of them nodded at me at the church and an auntie on Dad’s side gave me a hug but I keep thinking that they’re muttering about me.

After all, I did walk out on Dad, and for weeks at a time I didn’t even tell him I was safe. I must have caused him a lot of worry, even though I felt hurt and ignored by him at the time, while we were both grieving for my mum. I don’t think some of my lot can cope with having a relative who was voluntarily homeless for a while.

Helped by Cal, Polly and Robyn bring the platters of food into the cafe and start serving glasses of wine and hot drinks. I feel like a spare part, watching other people do my job and not knowing quite what to say to anyone but Freya, except she’s asleep in her buggy at the moment so I can’t even go and cuddle her.

I take a large gulp of wine and wonder if I dare slip into the kitchens again but spot Rachel make a beeline for me. She’s wearing a pretty shift dress and hot pink cardigan that shows off her slim figure. Close up, under her make-up, she also looks tired but that’s what you’d expect from someone with the worry of moving home and Freya to deal with. I think she’s in her late thirties although her clothes and make-up make her look younger. She’s at least ten years younger than my dad and she’s known him and me since before I left home.

In fact, Rachel was one of the reasons I walked out. We didn’t hit it off immediately but she’s been making an effort to be friendly since Christmas. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know why I hated her so much, apart from the fact she wasn’t my mum. When Dad asked her to move in, I saw it as the final insult and left. Rachel must have taken it personally, but really, the main reason we became estranged was all about my dad and me. The damage had been done long before Rachel even came on the scene. I’m determined not to bring bad memories up today and even if I can’t forget how I once felt about her ‘taking Mum’s place’, I’d never dream of spoiling her or Freya’s day.

Rachel arrives at my side. ‘Demi? This food is fantastic. Thanks so much for doing this. I couldn’t have coped with this tribe at the cottage. It’s great to have a professional take care of everything.’

‘Thanks. I only planned the menu and prepared it; Polly and Robyn have done a lot of the work while we were at the church.’

‘This can’t be easy,’ she adds in a low voice. ‘Even though we’ve been getting to know one another again, this is the first time we’ve all gone public. I know your dad was nervous about it and I have to be honest, so was I.’

‘Really?’ I take another gulp of wine.

‘I’d be on the wine myself if I wasn’t feeding Freya.’

I laugh. ‘It’s OK. It’s not been as bad as I expected. Oh shit. I didn’t mean I expected it to be bad, only that I didn’t know how I’d react to a full-on family reunion. Arghh. I’ve put my foot in it already.’

She smiles. ‘Hey, I’ll let you into a secret. A few of your dad’s family and mine aren’t thrilled with me supposedly stepping into your mum’s shoes, moving in with an older man and having a baby with him. Your Auntie Serena’s made no secret of the fact she thinks I’m a bit of a slapper.’

‘Auntie Serena has always been a nasty piece of work,’ I say, sliding at a look at the crow-like woman dressed like she’s going to a funeral, sniffing one of my savoury rosemary scones with suspicion. ‘She seems jealous of anyone who’s happy or successful. Mum couldn’t stand her either.’

‘We had no choice but to ask her, she was your mum’s great auntie.’

‘It’s fine. It’s your – Freya’s – day and I’ll keep out of Serena’s way.’ I don’t want to have a “mishap” with a smoothie or a glass of wine, I think, as I have had with Mawgan Cade in the past.

‘Come and have your photo taken with Kyle and Freya now we’re in the warm. It would be lovely to have a picture of the three of you together.’

Grateful for Rachel’s efforts to make me feel comfortable, I join Kyle, Rachel and Dad for a family photo, even though I feel a bit like a cuckoo in the nest. It’s definitely a situation I could never have imagined six months ago.

As I see people admiring the place and praising the buffet, I can’t help a warm glow of pride myself. I’m glad I suggested holding the christening tea at Demelza’s. After we’ve posed for some photos by the cake that Rachel’s cousin made, the sound of corks popping from the servery startles Freya. She throws her tiny arms out and opens her huge blue eyes for a few seconds. Her lips part and everyone holds their breath waiting for her to let out a wail but then she settles back into a snuffly sleep. Rachel puts her in her Moses basket while Cal hands round glasses of Prosecco and Robyn distributes the cake.

‘I hope no one minds me doing this but I’d like to propose a toast,’ Cal says, holding his glass up. ‘To Freya Penelope. Wishing her a long and very happy life!’

Everyone raises their glasses and echoes his words, even Auntie Serena manages to lift her glass of orange juice a few inches.

‘And I’d like to congratulate her parents, Gary and Rachel, on producing such a beautiful daughter, and Demi and Kyle on their new sister. Wishing you every happiness,’ Cal adds.

People raise their glasses again. My dad steps forward, shuffling nervously. He clears his throat and the room hushes in anticipation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad give a speech and my palms feel damp with nerves at what he might say.

‘Thanks for the kind words, Cal. And thank you all for coming to welcome Freya into the world. She knows how to time her entrance: on the day after Boxing Day during the great storm that caused so much heartache and flooded our cottage.

‘Now I’m sure there are many on St Trenyan who wouldn’t agree with this but every cloud does have a silver lining. If it hadn’t been for that flood, we wouldn’t be standing here now, enjoying this fantastic spread and the hospitality of Demi and Cal.’

Under my cardigan, my arms break out in goosebumps. Dad’s going to say something … about me – I know he is and I don’t know if I can handle it.