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‘Who’s she?’ The little girl who had been chasing the toddler only moments earlier abandoned their game and ran up to Heidi.
‘Hey, Pippa. This is Brooke. She’s going to be helping in the bakery for a few weeks.’ Heidi picked up a shiny hair clip that had fallen from Pippa’s hair and somehow lodged itself in the crease of her elbow and clipped it back in place.
‘Oh, I’ll go and tell Nana Elsie.’ Turning, Pippa began running towards a door at the back of the large room before pausing and calling over her shoulder. ‘Hello, Brooke.’
‘Hi, I’m Diane. I work here behind the bakery counter. Great to meet you.’ Holding a glass in one hand, Diane hugged Brooke around the shoulders with the other.
‘Thank you.’
‘Over there. Playing with the kids is my partner, Harry.’ Diane waved behind her.
‘I’m Teresa. I work here too. And this is my partner, Gavin.’
‘Hi, Teresa. Hello, Gavin.’ There were so many names and faces. How was she going to remember all of them? She really hadn’t wanted to disturb anyone. This was a private function. A family dinner. It wasn’t her place to be here. ‘Lovely to meet you.’ She looked from Gavin to Teresa and back again as Pippa ran up and flung her arms around Teresa’s waist, demanding to be picked up in case she missed anything.
‘Hello, Brooke, love. Welcome to the bakery.’ The small crowd introducing themselves parted and an older woman appeared, a woman with kind eyes, the blue-grey eyes that reminded Brooke of the ocean she’d been paddling in only a few moments earlier.
‘Hi, Elsie. I’m sorry for disturbing your dinner. I can come back tomorrow.’ Brooke glanced behind her towards the door.
‘Not at all. The more the merrier, that’s what I always say.’ Holding her arms out, Elsie beckoned Brooke towards her.
‘Lovely to meet, Brooke. I’m Ian, but I’m sure there’s a fair few more people here than you were expecting.’ An older man with the unmistakable creases of laughter lines framing his eyes patted her arm before turning to face the rest of the small group. ‘Come on, everyone, let’s give them a bit of space. That’s it, you too, Pippa, you can be chief chef now Elsie is busy.’
‘Really? Can I?’
Brooke watched the small girl slide out of Teresa’s arms and skip ahead towards the kitchen, grateful that Ian had offered a distraction.
As the group dispersed, Elsie picked up Brooke’s holdall. ‘We can pop this in your room before dinner. Give you a bit of time to settle in.’
‘Okay.’ Brooke followed Elsie around the back of the bakery counter and through a door. As soon as the door closed behind them, the chatter and hubbub were hushed.
Elsie paused on the landing and gently pushed open a door. ‘Here’s your room.’
‘Oh, it’s lovely.’ Stepping inside, Brooke looked around. The decor was pale and relaxing, the duvet on the double bed looked as though it could swallow you whole, and positive and life-affirming quotes decorated the walls. She walked towards the open window. ‘Sea view as well.’
Elsie smiled, placed the holdall on the floor next to the bed and joined her at the window. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the view of the bay.’ She patted Brooke’s arm. ‘Have you been down this way before?’
‘No, never. The furthest south I’ve been before was Weymouth in Dorset. I’ve never been to Cornwall before.’ Her grandparents had always told her Cornwall was too far. They’d probably been right—her granddad’s little rust bucket of a Fiesta had only just about coped with the journey to Dorset.
‘Well, I have a feeling you might just fall in love with it. I know I have, as have the people downstairs.’ Elsie turned towards the door. ‘I’ll leave you to settle for a few minutes. Come down when you’re ready, love.’
Nodding, Brooke watched as Elsie left the room. The delicious smell of a roast cooking had awoken her hunger, reminding her of Sunday dinners around her gran’s.
She forced herself to turn away from the view of the cobbles, the sand and the ocean and perched on the edge of the bed. Pulling her holdall towards her, she unzipped the side pocket and pulled out the letter her gran had given her before she’d passed away. She smoothed the edges down before sliding it under the pretty alarm clock on the bedside table. That could wait. It wasn’t the right time. Not now. She knew she had to open it; she knew she had to find out what her gran had wanted to tell her, but, for now, she needed to go downstairs and eat.
