Page 50 of Tricks & Treats at The Cosy Cornish Bakery

‘Oh.’ Chloe felt her back rigid against the slightly sticky hospital chair. ‘What changes?’ The air closed in around her and she longed to open a window.

‘Usual gubbins. What they always say. Lose the blubber, eat less saturated fat, take more exercise, don’t drink as much.’ Dulcie huffed. ‘Was going to start the diet next month. No point dieting in October when all the trick or treat choccie is about.’ She shifted a bit in the bed, as if trying to get comfortable. ‘Mind you, then it’s only a hop, skip and a jump to Christmas and you knows how much I like my Baileys. Oh, and they told me to manage my stress.’ Her brows rose indignantly. ‘I said, have you met my grandkiddies!’

Chloe was too exhausted to be angry. ‘And are you going to start the diet now?’

‘No choice if I’m stuck in this place. I’ve heard about hospital food.’

‘That’s not what I mean.’

Dulcie let out a great sigh. ‘Suppose.’ Her bottom lip dropped like a toddler’s.

‘In the ambulance you told me not to let you die. That you had lots more to do.’

‘Reckon I was off my head on the drugs they gave me.’

‘It’s true, though, isn’t it? You are only seventy. That’s not old these days. Now you’ve retired from the bakery you can do all the things you’ve always wanted to do. But you need to be healthy to do them.’

Her mother fell silent, her bottom lip still jutting out. ‘Nothing healthy ever tasted any good. You need a bit of fat and salt to give stuff taste.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Beansprouts? Bloody kale?’ Dulcie said the words as if they were the work of the devil.

‘Think you’ll be able to eat more than beansprouts and kale.’ Chloe suppressed a sigh and a slightly hysterical giggle. Her emotions were all over the place. Whatever her mother’s eating plan consisted of, it was going to be an uphill battle to try to keep her to it.

A rattling alerted them to the arrival of the tea trolley. The genial-looking man asked, ‘Can I get you ladies anything?’

Chloe shook her head. ‘Nothing for me, thanks. Mum?’

‘Could murder a cuppa,’ Dulcie said, sliding upright.

‘No biscuits.’ Chloe waggled her finger.

‘It starts already,’ Dulcie huffed. ‘My daughter,’ she explained to the tea trolley man, ‘isn’t half bossy.’

He grinned. ‘And she probably has good reason to be.’ He handed over a white mug of steaming tea.

Chloe smiled her gratitude at his solidarity.

‘You’d best get off, Chloe.’ Dulcie sipped her tea. ‘Nice. Better with one of Pammy’s Cornish Fairings to dunk in it, though.’

‘Muuum!’

‘Only joking, lovie.’ She tapped her phone, peering round. ‘I can ring you if I need anything. Reckon someone’ll have a charger they can let me have a borrow of. Get yourself gone.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, child. I could do with some shut eye to be honest.’ Dulcie was visibly wilting. ‘Take my swimming cossie. Salt water don’t do it no good unless you gives it a good rinse through,’ she fussed. ‘Nurse put it in a plakky bag in the locker.’

Chloe retrieved it.

Dulcie abandoned her mug of tea, putting it on the bedside locker, looking small and tired again. ‘And give Ziggy a big kiss from me. He won’t understand what’s happening, bless him.’ She let an enormous sigh escape. ‘Just when I was getting my life back, this happens.’

‘You’ll be fine.’

‘Yeah. Reckon. Thanks for everything, my lovely.’

Her mother hardly ever thanked her. Feeling emotion thicken in her throat, Chloe bent, touched a kiss to her mother’s temple and left.