Page 25 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

‘Jim. Jim. JIM!’ Demelza cried. ‘Jimbo Jim. Jumping Jim. All right, me hearties.’ The parrot extended her neck and glared. ‘Taffy was a Welshman. Taffy was thief!’

Ginger jumped up before Demelza said anything more derogatory. For all she knew, Josh actually had Welsh blood. ‘Can you take over for a bit, Pinky? I could do with a break. Grab a hot drink.’

‘No problem, love. See you later.’ Pinky settled himself down behind the table, picked up her discarded copy of Little Women, regarded it derisively and slid it back into the pile.

Josh led Ginger to the pile of hay bales next to Spotty Jo’s. Someone had obviously just left as a couple of pink spotted mugs and a plate lay abandoned. She watched as he emerged from Jim again, his shoulders broadening, his posture becoming more erect. She hadn’t properly considered how physical the art of acting was, until now.

‘Be right with you, my lovelies,’ Jo called from her converted van. It was tiny, a cute ape, the sort of three-wheeled van more common in Italy than Cornwall. Jo had painted it a cheerful Barbie pink with added white spots. The side lifted up to reveal a counter and its vivid turquoise interior.

‘Now, then.’ She appeared, pad in hand, slim and energetic, her black hair tied up in a cerise headscarf. ‘What can I get you?’ She did a double take as she stared at Josh. ‘Don’t I know you?’

Ginger tensed.

‘Probably,’ Josh answered, still using his Jim voice. ‘I was here about half an hour ago. Couldn’t resist one of your egg and bacon rolls, could I?’

‘Oh yes.’ Jo pointed her pencil at him. ‘Back for more. That’s what I like to see. Finished cooking for now, though, but I can do you a scone, my lovelies.’

‘I’d love a scone, please,’ Ginger answered. ‘And tea. Same for you, Jim?’

Josh nodded.

‘Back in two tiny ticks.’ Jo shoved the pencil and pad into her pink frilly apron, collected the mugs and plate and bustled off.

‘Jeez, I’m mainlining carbs today,’ Josh said. ‘Will need to shift some pounds before Dana sees me again.’

‘Well, you can’t come to Wheal Kitty Cove and not have one of Jo’s scones with clotted cream and home-made strawberry jam.’

Josh scrunched up his eyes. ‘Fat and carbs.’ He put his hands together in prayer. ‘Sorry, Dana.’

‘And sugar.’ Ginger laughed. ‘You can walk it all off later.’

‘I can. Want to join me?’

Ginger smiled ruefully. ‘I’d love to, but I’m tied up here for the rest of the day. The Sea Shanty Buoys are singing later. Out here if the weather holds. The pub does a barbecue, and everyone gets hammered on cider.’

‘I’ll go for a hike then and come back to join you later.’ He gave her a penetrating look from his sea-blue eyes. ‘If that’s okay?’

‘Of course it is. You’re a free agent, Josh. It’s up to you what you do.’

‘No, I meant if it’s all right with you? I’d like to spend some time with you, Ginger.’

Ginger’s breath snatched in her throat. She was rescued by the arrival of their scones.

‘Now then, you two,’ Jo said, putting the tea things down on a bale next to them. ‘Make sure the jam goes on first or I’ll have you run out of Cornwall.’

Josh looked confused.

‘I’ll explain later.’ Ginger giggled. ‘You pour the tea.’

CHAPTER 14

The piles of books had been collected up for another year, the tables now bore pints of cider and glasses of wine, fairy lights sparkled in the trees surrounding the green, and swayed gently in the breeze lifting from the sea. At the edges a haze hovered low over the dampening grass, but less dense than on previous evenings, soft and ethereal rather than gloomy. A mist of Cornish piskies and magic. In one corner, Liam had lit the barbecue and there was already a queue forming. The Sea Shanty Buoys were setting up their gear, and a firepit was alight in the centre, sending sparks into the sky and providing a welcome heat and comfort. Above, the indigo night sky was clear and studded with tiny stars.

The old hands had brought blankets to snuggle into. At Ginger’s suggestion, Josh had nipped up to The Sanctuary and collected a couple of throws. They sat at the table where she’d been selling books a few hours earlier, sipping mulled cider with rum, watching the scene in front of them unfold.

‘I hadn’t got you pegged as a proper, real reader,’ Ginger mused, her hands clasped around the warmth of her plastic glass. ‘I can’t get over it. You really surprised me.’

‘Always have been. You can go anywhere in a book, can’t you? As I said, they open up so many worlds. Grew up in a big family and always had my nose in a book. Hard to find a bit of privacy when you have a houseful of brothers and sisters, so books were an excuse to get away.’ Josh gave her a shy look, inched closer and whispered, ‘I used to hide out in my room and act out the narrative. It’s what made me want to get into acting. Don’t tell many people that.’ He didn’t give her time to respond as he went on, ‘Oh yes, before I forget, I got you this.’ Reaching into his coat pocket, he brought out the battered edition of Little Women she’d been reading earlier. ‘It’s such a sad little copy I thought it deserved a loving home. Rescued it from – Pinky, is it? – earlier.’ He handed it over.