The next day I’m in Demelza’s, relishing the chance to have a ‘normal day’s work’ that focuses on the cafe and customers without any wedding drama or any dark thoughts. Cal talked to me about business last night, about how busy bookings were looking for Easter and how long we needed to close for the wedding.
Many of the plans are now in place. We’ve decided to shut the whole resort and cafe from the Wednesday evening until the Monday. It will cost Lily and Ben a lot of money but that doesn’t seem to be a problem. Harry has sent us a dossier outlining the security plan and called to discuss it. Addison and Jade are, of course, never off the phone or email, checking that everything is ‘progressing’.
Business is steady, but not spectacular on this grey and cool morning which has given me a chance to sift through some of the applications for seasonal staff and arrange some interviews. We’re definitely going to need a few pairs of extra hands with all our events and the summer season coming up.
Jugs of candy-coloured tulips on every table lift the mood in the cafe, which is filled with comforting aromas that seem to have lured ramblers and regulars inside. There’s even a hardy group of dog walkers out on the terrace, swaddled in coats and fleece hats, cradling hot chocolates to warm their hands. The canine customers, two Labradors and a lively young Puggle, are enjoying some of my new savoury doggy popcorn.
I’m taking a moment to deal with some admin during the early afternoon lull when Kit walks into the cafe.
‘Am I too late for lunch? I needed to finish a chapter of my editing.’
‘You’re always late, but I’m sure we can find you some scraps.’
He smiles. ‘I guess that’s all I deserve. Humble pie.’
‘I can do slightly better than that.’
Although I’m still not one hundred per cent sure of Kit, as my Nana Demelza would have said, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt for now.
I grab a coffee and a cheese scone for my lunch and sit down next to him while he tucks into a jacket potato topped with vegetable chilli and local cheese.
‘This is bloody good,’ he says, re-loading his fork with the chilli. Strands of cheese stick to the tines.
‘It was a new recipe for spring. We’ll probably keep it on until Easter when the weather warms up.’
‘It’s going well, then?’
‘The crappy photos in the papers didn’t help us but the regulars took no notice and a few people came out of curiosity to see if it was as bad as it looked. We’ve been lucky to have the boost of the photo shoot, the filming and now this celebrity wedding.’
‘Crappy photos? Big wedding?’ he says after swallowing a mouthful of chilli. ‘You’ve lost me.’
‘You must know about the wedding the newspapers have been speculating about? That’s why Kilhallon ended up in a tabloid. They sent a pap down here and took some photos that showed the place in a terrible light.’
He blows out a breath. ‘I may be a journalist but I’ve been totally caught up in the editing and launch plans for my book. When I do read the papers it’s for the environmental and political features relevant to it. Sorry, I’m not up to speed with the celebrity gossip.’
‘You must have heard of Lily Craig and Ben Trevone?’
He frowns then blows out a breath. ‘Ah. Those two. Yes, I have heard of them. He made that crappy action film, didn’t he? I seem to recall her being OK in that period drama that won an award?’
‘Yes. Lily had a lot of praise for Isla’s costume drama that won a big award. Ben’s Ocean Furries animation was nominated for an Oscar too. He was the sea otter.’
‘A sea otter? I’ll take your word for it. What have they got to do with you?’
‘They’re getting married at Kilhallon. Although that’s meant to be a secret but all the newspapers know about it anyway. Their people don’t want to announce it officially.’
‘Thereby guaranteeing complete obsession with every last detail and continuous press coverage for months? Bloody hell though. Kilhallon – I mean, it’s nice for us ordinary mortals but for Hollywood movie stars?’
‘We can scrub up,’ I shoot back, annoyed that Kit’s voicing exactly the same thoughts that I’ve been having. ‘You’re right and I’m worried about it too. They say they want a low-key, authentic wedding-slash-handfasting thing. They want the event to seem as if we’ve thrown it together at the last minute, which is exactly what was going to happen until Rachel helped us out.’
‘Christ.’
‘Cal said that. But I hadn’t thought about the mystery adding to the publicity value. That’s not my worry. Kilhallon had some bad PR in the daily rag a few weeks ago. They sent a pap on a horrible wet day and posted a load of pictures of our bins, Mitch weeing up a log and Cal looking pissed off next to the toilets.’
‘Cal looked pissed off? I can’t believe that.’
‘Don’t be sarcastic.’
‘It’s my job.’ He grins. ‘Bastard journos. They’re all evil.’ God, sometimes he is so like Cal, I could kill him. They must have inherited the same gene for being infuriating and sarcastic.
‘I’m amazed you didn’t see it. The ones who wrote the lies about Kilhallon are awful and now I wished I hadn’t asked another one to help,’ I throw back at him. I don’t want to sound tetchy bit I can’t help reminding Kit that he was willing to make Cal’s life a misery by writing a story about Cal’s experiences in Syria – or what Kit thought Cal had been up to in Syria. As it happened, Kit didn’t know the full facts at the time.
Kit gives an apologetic smile. ‘I know. I was joking.’ He sighs. ‘And I’m sorry for being a git. My sense of humour doesn’t always translate as funny. I rarely read the rag and I didn’t catch the online gossip because I’ve been trying to keep offline while I finish my edits. Sadly, there’s not much I can do about restoring the image of Kilhallon, however much I want to help.’
‘Actually, there is a way you could do me, Cal and Kilhallon a big favour.’
He frowns. ‘Yes?’
‘How would you like to help out at the wedding fair on Sunday?’
‘Me? At a wedding fair …’ He screws up his face. ‘Do I have a choice?’
‘No. Call it rehab.’
He sighs. ‘You two are really going to make me suffer for this, aren’t you?’
‘Believe me, the wedding fair will be nothing compared to when Polly sees you.’
He groans. ‘Polly. I feel bad about not being open with her. She was so nice to me and I do genuinely like her. Salt of the earth as they say, they broke the mould etcetera, and I deceived her … Oh shit, how can I face her now?’
‘Wearing full body armour?’
He winces.
‘Fortunately for you, Polly only knows that you and Cal are half-brothers but not the full details. Cal sat her down in the New Year with a large glass of his best whisky and broke the news. Apparently she was speechless for a full minute when she heard and burst into tears but she said she knew that Cal’s father, Mr Penwith, was a “philanderer”, which isn’t a compliment. Once she was over the initial blow, she said it made sense. If she knew everything that had gone on between you and Cal and Mawgan, she’d never forgive you.’
He swallows hard. ‘I don’t blame her. I’ve struggled to forgive myself. I was bitter and twisted and I did the one thing a journalist – a decent one, not a hack – should never do: prejudged the situation and come up with the story I wanted instead of what was really there. But I’m only human and when I got here I could tell Cal loathed me at first sight. I guessed you and he were in a relationship, and having heard about your backstory, I decided he’d taken advantage of you when you were vulnerable.’
‘Cal never took advantage of me and I’ve never been vulnerable.’ I lower my voice, aware that Shamia is watching us closely. ‘And we weren’t, technically, in a relationship back then, though we are now. You probably know I’ve moved into Kilhallon House.’
‘Ah. I had sort of guessed when I saw your old cottage had been refurbished. I’m genuinely happy for you.’ His eyes plead with me to believe him. I do. This is a different Kit to the guy who turned up last year. He’s dropped the façade, I think … unless he’s showing a new façade.
‘Cal’s a very lucky man … but when I rocked up here last autumn, spoiling for a fight myself, Cal came across as difficult, arrogant, bloody minded and always right.’
‘That’s an accurate assessment, but it still gave you no right to try and make him even unhappier. Has he told you what happened to him in Syria? What really happened to him?’
‘He’s told me his side of the story. It was crap for him, a tragic outcome. No wonder he’s found it hard to readjust. Maybe he’ll open up more when we talk about the feature I’m writing on the floods.’
I hesitate before I reply. ‘Maybe. Sometimes, I think it’s better if some people don’t know everything.’
‘Perhaps, but if he talked more, I might be able to help,’ says Kit.
‘That’s up to him. Concentrate on the wedding fair and the feature for now.’
‘The feature I can do. The wedding fair is what scares me. Please don’t say I have to arrange flowers or sashay down the catwalk in a bridal gown?’
‘Don’t panic. Both of those jobs are way out of your league.’ I pat his arm. ‘I’ll find you something a lot easier to do than that.’