Page 27 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

‘They’ll have to be plastic if you’re going outside.’

‘Yeah,’ he answered absently, ‘whatever.’ Taking the drinks outside he searched for Chloe. She was sitting on a hay bale looking prim and self-conscious. His skin prickled with desire. Firmly closing his mind to the disturbing image, which had returned to taunt him, of Chloe writhing in his bed, he strolled over. Play it cool, man. Play it cool.

‘Thank you,’ she called, over the applause following the Buoys rendition of ‘Wild Rover’.

He settled beside her as the Buoys went into their final song. ‘Ah, I love this one.’

The crowd went silent as they listened, then joined in as the song reached its rousing last chorus. Some were openly weeping, others hugging one another and half laughing, half crying.

After the applause had died down and the Buoys had drifted off to the pub, Chloe turned to Nik, tears glistening in her eyes. ‘What was that? What just happened?’

‘Haven’t you ever heard “Cornwall, My Home” before?’ He was very aware of her sitting near him, and the warmth from her body.

‘No.’ She wiped the corner of her eye. ‘Why would I? I’ve been living in London for the past twenty years.’ She sounded almost cross that the song had moved her.

‘The Buoys always finish with it and it always has that effect. Sings to the soul, I suppose. To the Cornish in us all.’

‘But you’re half Swedish and I haven’t lived here for years.’ Her voice was ragged.

Nik longed to throw his arms around her, to pull her to him and comfort her but contented himself with words. Shrugging, he said, ‘What do they say? The potency of cheap music? The effect of male voice close harmonies. The lyrics? Their yearning and wistfulness? The Welsh have a word for it. Hiraeth. There’s a similar word in Cornish, I believe. A longing for home. For where you belong.’ The thought flickered into his head. Where do I belong? Here, or in Sweden?

‘Beat It’ belted out of the speakers by the pub’s main door. It shattered the intimacy.

Chloe sniffed. ‘And speaking of cheap music.’

‘We can go if you like?’

‘No. I’m happy here.’ She held up her glass. ‘Haven’t finished my wine.’

‘Did you find Ginger?’

‘Yes, she’s over there sitting with Josh. I didn’t like to disturb them. They look all loved-up.’

Nik peered through the darkness, the only illumination being the fairy lights and the firepit. ‘That’s… nice.’

‘You sound uncertain.’

‘I hope he doesn’t hurt her, he’s only around for a few weeks, isn’t he?’

‘Good point. I don’t know how far it’s progressed. She hasn’t said anything to me.’

‘And you’re still close?’

‘Yes. Known her since primary school. Our friendship’s drifted every now and again.’ Chloe hesitated. ‘We lived very different lives for a while, but we always had the ability to drop back into the friendship.’

‘Sounds good. The best kind of friendship.’

‘It is. Did you keep in touch with anyone from school? I lost touch with everyone else when I went to university.’

‘Not really but I went back to live with Dad after A levels. The ones who went to university moved away after they’d graduated. Since I’ve been back, I’ve become reacquainted with a few who stayed, some are lifeboat crew and we’re a pretty tight bunch.’

‘I didn’t know you were a volunteer.’

‘Sort of goes with the territory of having a business right next to the station. I’m around to react quickly should there be a shout.’

‘That’s very… brave.’

He was aware of Chloe giving him a curious look, the flush staining her cheeks again. Probably the effects of the wine. ‘Not really. Most of time it involves rescuing kids on inflatables or stranded dog walkers. The crew are close-knit because we train and have to work as a team, but I suppose the people I know best in the village are Ginger and Liam, although he drives me insane sometimes. And there’s your mum.’