Chloe’s Cornish Christmas (The Blossomwood Bay #7)

Chapter Fifteen

After another restful night’s sleep, Chloe woke early and, as she knew that Nick’s Saturday morning would be taken up with the arrival of his friend from London, she decided to take her coffee back to bed and spend a few minutes scrolling through her social media accounts. She paused at a lovely photograph that Holly had posted on Instagram of Ariel and Max running along the beach at Blossomwood Bay and decided to give her friend a call.

‘Hi, Holly.’

‘Oh, Chloe, it’s great to hear from you. How are things?’

‘Fine, just fine.’ Chloe cringed. As Holly often commented on her overuse of the stock response, she rushed on. ‘I’m in Cornwall.’

‘What? Why?’

‘I'm doing one of my cocktail-tasting events to promote the local pantomime tonight. I’m really looking forward to it. It’s going to be lots of fun.’

‘Where are you staying?’

‘In a beautiful loft apartment at a friend’s place.’ She laughed. ‘It’s so luxurious I might never leave. I’ll send you some photos; the view is to die for.’

‘Sounds wonderful. How long will you be there?’

‘Just a few days, a week at the most. I’ve also been roped into entering a Christmas tree decorating competition at the local village pub. I wondered if you had any ideas for a theme? I thought about doing all gold, or all silver, or all white?’

‘What about something a bit quirkier, like woodland animals, or pinecones sprayed with fake snow and adding another dimension to the design by including fragrances like eucalyptus, or maybe a gingerbread theme and add a ginger scent. Or something that’s unique to you, such as miniature spirit bottles with fun Christmas labels?’

‘Wow, they’re all great ideas! Thanks, Holls.’

‘No problem. Actually, Chloe, I was going to call you later.’

A nip of anxiety invaded Chloe’s chest. ‘What about?’

‘Two things. First, did you get Lucinda’s text?’

‘No, sorry I—’

‘She called me late last night to ask if I could have Coco for a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, her grandma’s broken her ankle so Lucinda’s heading up to Chester to help her out until she’s settled back at home, which means she has to cancel the cocktail-making party you’ve got arranged with her next week. I’m really sorry, Chloe, I know how important it is to get as many bookings squeezed in between now and Christmas.’

‘It’s fine. What’s the other thing?’

For a moment, Chloe thought Holly was going to pull her up on her reply, but she didn’t.

‘I called in at the Boathouse Bistro this morning after walking the dogs, and Beckie told me that Kath had a surprise call from Andrew last night. Apparently, the authorities in California have completed the paperwork much quicker than he’d anticipated, which means that Dexter’s funeral can go ahead at St Peter’s Parish Church next Tuesday after all. As Dexter wanted it to be a small, private affair, for family and close friends only, just Kath and Beckie have been invited.’

‘Really?’

‘Kath has known Dexter since she took the lease of the boathouse over twenty years ago, just a few months after Beckie’s mum passed away. She doesn’t talk about him much – not to me, anyway – but I think she got to know him fairly well over the ensuing years. She was able to persuade him and his band to close the Blossomwood Bay midsummer festival in June, wasn’t she?’

‘What about the will-reading? Is that being brought forward, too?’

‘Beckie didn’t know about that. Apparently, when Kath asked Andrew that question, he was what she described as “a bit cagey”. I think he knows more than he’s letting on, but I suppose, as one of Dexter’s appointed executors, there’ll be confidentiality rules that he has to abide by. Oh, Chloe, I really hope that whoever inherits his estate wants to rebuild the boardwalk, but the reality is that out of the original eight beach huts, there’s only you and the WI ladies who run the community beach hut that are still interested in renewing their lease.’

‘If they decide not to rebuild, what do you think will happen to the boathouse? Hasn’t Kath just closed the bistro for a month in November because of slow trade? Will she be forced to shut down permanently? What will she and Beckie do then? It’s not only their livelihoods they’ll be losing, they also both love the place, and the regulars who call in for a coffee, a cake and a chat all year-round are like family to them.’

‘I don’t know what will happen, Chlo. As far as the will-reading is concerned, I’m sure we’ll be told as soon as a date is fixed, but it’s likely to be in the new year, I think. Have you decided what you’re going to do for Christmas yet?’

‘I have. I’m not going over to San Francisco.’

‘Have you told your dad?’

‘Not yet. I’m going to call him later.’

‘Will you tell him about the fire?’

‘I…’

‘Chloe, I know from personal experience with my mum that you’ll feel so much better when everything is out in the open. He’s your dad, he’ll understand, and keeping it a secret for so long because you don’t want to disappoint him has erected an invisible barrier between you that will only continue to grow until you talk to him about it.’

‘You’re right. I… maybe I will.’

She squirmed when she thought of what Holly would say if she knew that she couldn’t tell her father about the boardwalk fire because he still thought she was a highly successful lawyer employed by a prestigious London law firm, so she changed the subject to a safer topic.

‘How’s Rachel? Has she found a venue for her yoga business yet?’

‘She and Leo went to look at a place yesterday in Exeter, but it wasn’t suitable. It was a decent size, upstairs from a car dealership, but… you’re not going to believe this… while they were there they spotted a nest of rats! So, not really the calm, relaxing environment she was looking for. They’re actually hoping to find somewhere they can both use – Rachel for her yoga studio, Leo as a base for his new outward bounds business – but it’s so hard to find anything that works for them at a price that they can afford.’

Chloe wanted to tell Holly that things weren’t any better in the residential property sector. In fact, they were worse! However, she didn’t want to stray into that thorny issue.

‘What about Poppy?’

‘Oh, she’s doing great. If you’re not going over to California for Christmas, why don’t you come over to us when you’re finished your promo event in Cornwall, and you can meet Fabien. Don’t tell Oscar I said this, but his French accent is just soo swoonworthy. They’re planning to launch an English Garden café together, with an added twist of French flair. Fabien’s got a decent deposit, and they’ve spent ages drawing up a comprehensive business plan, but like Rachel and Leo, they need to find the right premises. If Poppy has her way, it’ll be located in an old-fashioned Victorian conservatory in the gardens of a beautiful Devonshire manor house with sweeping lawns, vibrant flower beds, and maybe a fountain or two, not to mention a spectacular view of the sea.’

‘It sounds fabulous.’ Chloe laughed. ‘I’m not sure that exists, though.’

‘Me neither. Oh, and I spoke to Freya last weekend. She and Jacques intend to come over to Devon for Dexter’s memorial service in January, and so do Tilly and Matteo.’

‘And Suzie?’

‘I’m not sure about Suzie and Christos. They’re still waiting to hear when Adam’s trial is going to take place, and they want to be able to come over from Santorini for that.’

‘It’ll be good to see everyone. By the way, how are Ariel and Max? I saw the photo you posted on Instagram this morning.’

‘They’re both just as mischievous as ever.’

Chloe hesitated. She knew she shouldn’t say anything until the insurance money was finally through and she was back on her feet again, but she just couldn’t help it.

‘The friend I’m staying with has a dog; a Yorkshire terrier called Mitzy. She’s super cute, and I was thinking… when I’m settled, will you help me find a dog of my own?’

‘Oh, Chloe, I’d love to. I’ll keep my eyes open for you.’

‘Thanks, Holly.’

‘Okay, I’ve got to go. I promised Oscar I’d help him in the kitchen today. Call me when you’re back. Promise?’

‘Promise.’

Chloe spent a few minutes thinking about the friends she had left behind in Blossomwood Bay, and how all of their lives had changed since the devastation the fire had caused. She could hardly believe that three of their number – Tilly, Freya and Suzie – had found the courage to start a new life in a different country.

She missed seeing them every day, missed popping into their respective beach huts for a coffee and a chat about photography, or aromatherapy, or gemstones, or her favourite subject of all: chocolate. She had spent many wonderful hours helping Holly with her dog-grooming business or enjoying a session of yoga or Pilates with Rachel. She had cherished the friendship they had offered, which made her wonder why she hadn’t confided in them about losing her home.

But then she remembered.

She hadn’t confided in them about her homelessness and the fact she was living in her car because the predicament she found herself in was her fault. And she wasn’t just to blame for her own misfortune, but that which had befallen her friends, too, and the guilt she carried for that was almost unbearable.

Chloe swallowed down hard to prevent herself from succumbing to a bout of self-pity, an indulgence she knew she didn’t deserve. Instead, she took a quick shower, towel-dried her hair, and dressed in a pair of jeans and a bright yellow hoodie in an attempt to lift her mood from the doldrums.

She then headed to the kitchen, set the kettle to boil to replenish her coffee, and grabbed her phone, determined to make the most difficult of calls before she lost her nerve. However, as she scrolled through her contacts for her father’s number, another number jumped out at her and she paused, her thoughts swirling.

Could she? Should she?

Almost as though guided by a supernatural force, her finger touched the green Call button. For several stress-filled seconds her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage, and she was unbelievably relieved when her call finally clicked over to Jonathan’s voicemail. She left an upbeat message, enquiring whether there were any positions in the civil litigation department coming up in the new year, and if there were, asking him to bear her in mind as she was considering a return to London imminently.

When she cut the call, Chloe exhaled a long sigh.

Now it was time for a much more challenging call, although she was sure it would go straight to voicemail, too; it always did. She sat for a few moments, sipping her coffee, working through the details of the message she was going to leave, wondering whether – if she was intending on going back to her old job at Baxter it was just something he said instead of goodbye, like how she used the phrase “I’m fine”. She didn’t mean that either; it was her way of closing down the conversation before it meandered into rocky terrain.

She left her phone on the sofa and took her coffee to the huge triangular window to clear her head of the cauldron of emotions the call to her father had instigated. She wished with all her heart that they could be together for the holidays, listening to cheesy songs, playing silly games, watching Christmas movies, eating her own bodyweight in chocolate, but most of all simply reconnecting with each other.

Christmas was a difficult time, she knew that, but it was even harder to face alone.

Realising she was at risk of tumbling down a rabbit hole of desolation, she gave herself a vigorous shake and raised her chin high, smiling when she caught sight of Nick and his friend Dan sauntering through the orchard, their heads bent towards each other, deep in discussion, with Mitzy bringing up the rear.

From her elevated vantage point, she could see that Dan was slightly taller than Nick, with neatly barbered ginger hair and a rugby player’s physique, his hands stuffed into the pockets of an expensive-looking, navy blue overcoat with a velvet collar. He looked like a stockbroker, or an accountant, or one of the partners at Baxter whether he still worked in project management or whether he’d had a change in career. However, it seemed the two friends still had a great deal to talk about, and she experienced a sharp pang of envy that it wasn’t her showing Holly or Beckie around Fairholme Farm, pointing out its numerous attributes with pride.

She watched the men exit the orchard – with Dan pausing briefly to take a few photographs of the leafless apple trees – and head into the courtyard where Nick spent a few minutes waving his hand in the direction of the renovated barn before indicating its dilapidated sibling. A few moments later, they disappeared inside the ramshackle barn, no doubt to drool over his uncle’s bright red Porsche that was housed there amongst the rusty farm machinery.

Chloe remained at the window, staring at the panoramic view, feeling her heartrate slow and the stress of her earlier phone calls finally start to dissipate. The Cornish countryside seemed to possess an inherent ability to calm the mind and soothe the soul, to reassure the weary, the beleaguered, or the heartbroken visitor that even the most difficult of circumstances would, eventually, pass, and she wished she could stay there forever.