Page 21 of Wishes & Waves at the Cornish Bakery
‘Yes, I am.’ She nodded, her decision made. ‘I’ve been so focused on this being the be-all and end-all, that I hadn’t really thought about the other options, the other people in the bay who might know of him.’
‘Okay, great. Let’s do this.’ He grinned as he let go of her hands before taking just one as they walked towards the front door of the farmhouse.
Pausing outside, Isaac looked at her again as if to double-check she was ready before he knocked. She was. Or she was as ready as she’d ever be. She’d daydreamed about this moment her entire life, created stories in her head of who he might be, what he might be like and, right now, in this moment, she felt closer to finding out than she ever had before. She watched as he knocked, the clack-clack echoing around the farmyard, causing the hens to stop what they were doing and look towards them before continuing, unaware that this moment might just change Tilly’s life. She held her breath as they waited for an answer, steeling herself for disappointment. Give them time.
After what felt like forever, the door creaked open, and a balding man with ruddy cheeks appeared. ‘Morning, Isaac, lad, you’ve come to tell me your old pa has decided to move on?’
‘Ha, no. I’m afraid not, Mr Groves.’ Isaac stiffened beside her at the mention of his dad’s situation.
‘Ah, no bother. I’ve come to peace with the fact that he’ll move on in his own time. Can’t afford to get the cottages renovated yet, anyway.’ Mr Groves pulled the door open wider, the aroma of bacon and eggs wafting towards them. ‘How can I help you then, lad? And who’s the lovely young lady?’
‘This is Tilly, and it’s actually her we’re hoping you can help. You see, she’s after some information about a man who possibly used to work on the farm.’ Isaac relaxed again.
‘I see. Good to meet you, Tilly. I’ll do my best to help, but it’s my son and his missus who deal with the hiring and such nowadays.’ Mr Groves tipped his head towards Tilly.
‘It’s nice to meet you too, Mr Groves.’ Tilly shifted on her feet. ‘I’m actually enquiring after someone who worked here about thirty-five years ago.’
‘Thirty-five years?’ Mr Groves’ voice shot up an octave. ‘Well, now, I’ll have to get my thinking cap on.’
‘I have a photo, if that’s any help?’ Tilly dug into her handbag and pulled out the photo wallet she’d been carrying around with her all this time.
‘Mo, love. Breakfast is ready.’ A voice called from inside.
Mr Groves rubbed at his chin before stepping aside and jerking his head to indicate they should go inside. ‘Come on in.’
‘We don’t want to disturb you. We can come back later if it’s more convenient?’ Tilly paused, unsure whether to accept his invitation or not.
‘Nah, you’re here now, and my wife makes a lovely Full English. Come on through.’ He indicated again for them to step inside.
Glancing at Isaac, Tilly watched as he nodded slightly before she stepped inside. The doorway led straight into a large kitchen with a pine table set in the middle and pine cabinets surrounding it. Standing at the oven, a woman with her hair set in curlers and wearing a blue apron dished up a platepiled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, beans, hash browns and mushrooms.
Turning from her position at the oven, the woman, Mrs Groves, held up a spatula and shook it towards them. ‘Isaac, lovely. What a nice surprise!’
‘Morning, Mrs Groves. This is Tilly.’ Isaac smiled warmly.
‘It’s Liz, you know it is.’ Liz looked at Tilly, her smile broad. ‘Isaac here had his manners drummed into him as a boy, didn’t you, lad? He always calls us Mr and Mrs Groves and I can’t see that changing now, but to you we’re Liz and Mo, okay, lovely?’
Tilly nodded. ‘Sorry for just dropping by like this. We can come back later.’
‘Nonsense. After years of running the farm, this has always been an open house. Now, what can I get you both? Bacon sarnies? A Full English? Scrambled eggs on toast?’
‘Oh, I’m fine, thank you.’ Tilly smiled.
‘I insist. Can’t have my visitors leave hungry now, can we?’ Liz turned to Isaac. ‘You’ll have a bacon sarnie, won’t you, lovely?’
Striding across the kitchen, Mo picked up his plate and carried it to the table. Once he was seated, he pulled the plate towards him and picked up his knife and fork, hovering them over the hot food. ‘There’s no point in refusing, she won’t be happy until she’s fed everyone.’
Isaac grinned. ‘A bacon sarnie sounds delicious, please, Mrs Groves.’
Liz nodded in approval and turned once again to Tilly. ‘And the same for you, Tilly?’
‘Umm, yes, please.’ After oversleeping this morning, she’d shoved a croissant down her throat before meeting Isaac, and normally that would have been enough, but with the aroma of a proper breakfast in the air, she could already feel her stomach rumbling.
‘Good, good.’ Liz carefully laid four pieces of bacon in the pan, letting the sizzle of the oil subside before turning to her husband. ‘Pour the tea, would you, Mo?’
Mo shovelled a forkful of baked beans into his mouth before standing up and taking two mugs from a mug tree positioned by the sink. After sitting back down again, he slid a large teapot across the table and filled up the mugs. ‘Here you go. Help yourself to milk.’
‘Thank you.’ Walking across to the table, Isaac took the mugs before placing them on the table close to him and picking up a milk jug. He looked towards Tilly as he poured. ‘Say when.’
