Page 30 of Wishes & Waves at the Cornish Bakery
‘Here you go, Tilly. Get that down you.’ Elsie rubbed her shoulder as she placed the plate and mug in front of her
‘Thank you.’ Slipping her handbag from her shoulder, she placed it on the edge of the table, folding the old straps to heap on top of it. She touched the warm croissant, flakes of buttery pastry falling onto the plate. It smelled delicious, and she knew, as with everything Elsie cooked, it would taste good too.
Taking her position opposite her again, Elsie took a sip from her coffee mug before picking up an piping bag. ‘How are you feeling now, love? Has your headache gone?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry for...’ Tilly waved her hand upwards in the direction of her room. ‘...earlier.’
‘Don’t mention it. It’s better out than in, as I always say. It’s no good for us to bottle up our feelings.’ Elsie smiled kindly as she squeezed the piping bag, decorating the cupcakes with beautiful pale blue flowers. ‘I’ve rung Laura from Pennycress Inn and she’ll be expecting you. She said she’d get her partner, Jackson, to make you a good, hearty meal when you arrive.’
‘Thank you.’ Tilly blinked back fresh tears. She was surprised she had any left. She watched as Elsie swapped out the piping bag and picked up one containing yellow icing. The way she moved quickly but carefully over the cakes, drawing outlines around the blue flowers, was mesmerising. Why was she being so kind to her? She hardly knew her, and yet as soon as she’d met her at the bench outside, Tilly had known she was kind and could be trusted. She had known instantly that the bakery would be a safe space for her. ‘And thank you for everything. For giving me a place to stay, somewhere to work, for being there for me. I owe you.’
Shaking her head, Elsie chuckled quietly as she lowered the piping bag to the tabletop. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, love. You owe me nothing. You’re a lovely person, and you’ve brought a lot into our lives too. So thank you for turning up here and giving us and the bakery a chance.’
Spinning slowly on the stool, Tilly looked around the kitchen. She’d miss this place and the people she’d grown to care for here. It was special. Really special. Maybe she might come back. Once she’d had her time away at the inn Elsie had booked her into, once she’d cleared her head, she might come back. She could come back and volunteer again, perhaps. Maybe she’d even take Elsie up on her offer to help her find out if she did have any family still living in the bay.
Turning back to her breakfast, she picked up her mobile and slumped her shoulders as she noticed the screen was still empty - no messages, no missed calls from Isaac. Yes, he was probably busy with some job or other, or else he was with his dad, but no contact whatsoever? She picked up the croissant, still warm from the oven, and sank her teeth into it, the melted cheese dripping to the plate below.
What would she say to him anyway? There was a small part of her that was grateful he hadn’t been in contact. She didn’t want him to try to convince her to stay, she needed to leave. She also hated goodbyes.
‘I’ve also made you up a little packed lunch and a flask of coffee. Something to keep you going until Jackson’s dinner.’ Elsie picked up the tray of cupcakes and placed it on the counter before picking up one of the flower-covered cupcakes. ‘I’ll just pop one of these in for you too.’
‘Thanks.’ Tilly mumbled through her mouthful of croissant. It really was good.
As Elsie walked past the end of the table, her hip brushed against Tilly’s handbag, the strap getting caught on her apron ties, causing it to fall from the table to the floor. ‘Oh, drat, sorry.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Placing the half-eaten croissant back on her plate, Tilly looked down at her belongings now strewn across the floor, her purse, a small pack of tissues, a hairbrush, the hand cream tube her aunt had ordered her for Christmas last year and the photographs which had fallen from the paper wallet and now lay face-up on the floor. She slipped off the stool. ‘I’ll grab them.’
‘Me and my clumsiness.’ Elsie chuckled as she set the cupcake down on the table and leaned down to pick up the photographs. Slowly, she stood up and placed all but one of the photos on the table next to the cupcake. Standing there, she held one photograph in her hand, her eyes fixed on the grainy image and her face ashen. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘They’re photographs my mum and my aunt took when they visited Penworth Bay. Which one are you looking at?’ Walking towards her, Tilly peered over Elsie’s shoulder. She was holding the photograph of her mum and dad standing in the cottage garden.
‘Is this your mum?’ Elsie pointed to the image of Tilly’s mum.
‘Yes. And my dad. Not that I ever met him. He passed away before I was born. My mum not long after having me.’ Bending down, Tilly began stuffing the dropped items back in her bag. She crawled under the table to retrieve a lipstick. Although she probably should just bin it. She’d had it sitting in the bottom of her bag for years now, she probably shouldn’t actually use it.
‘Your dad?’ Elsie’s voice was quiet.
Crawling back out from beneath the table, lipstick in hand, Tilly stood up and watched as Elsie scraped back a stool from beneath the table and sat down heavily. ‘Are you feeling okay?’
Still holding the photograph, Elsie rubbed her temple before stabbing her finger at the image. ‘This is Mikey.’
Letting the lipstick drop from her hand, Tilly heard it roll under the table again. Clenching her hands in front of her, she told herself not to get too excited. Even if Elsie knew him, she might only know his name. She might not be able to help Tilly trace any living relatives or anything like that. ‘You know him? Isaac’s been helping me try to find out some information about him. Anything, really. The Groves told us that his nickname was Lockie. After Goldilocks, because of his hair. And Greg from another farm gave me his address, but someone else lives there now.’
Tilly drew a quick breath in, the excitement building inside her despite telling herself not to get too far ahead. She knew she was rambling, regurgitating too much information all at once, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘I thought maybe his parents, my grandparents, might still be living there. I thought I mightactually get to meet some relatives of mine, but they don’t. The woman who lived there didn’t know anything about my dad or his parents. So...’
Elsie waited until Tilly’s voice had trailed off before speaking again, her voice a hoarse whisper. ‘This is my nephew.’
Bringing her hand to her mouth, Tilly froze. Did she hear right? Did Elsie say the man in the photo was her nephew? No, she must be hearing things. She rubbed at the side of her face. ‘Sorry?’
‘My nephew. This man was my nephew.’ Elsie repeated herself, her voice barely audible as she stared at Tilly.
‘And that’s the last of the cupcakes gone. The kids are going crazy for them!’ Ian’s jovial voice filled the kitchen as the door swung shut behind him. Coming to a stop, Ian looked from Elsie to Tilly and back again, his forehead creasing as the silence stretched on between them. ‘Is everything okay in here?’
‘No,’ Tilly squeaked out a reply.
Walking across to his wife, Ian placed the empty tray on the table and rubbed her shoulder. ‘Elsie, love. Are you okay? Should I ring a doctor?’
Blinking, Elsie finally tore her eyes from Tilly and looked at Ian. ‘No, love. I think I’ve just found my family.’
