Page 9 of The Cornish Cream Tea Holiday
‘I’m hot and thirsty. I’ll be OK once I get back to the cottage.’
‘On holiday, are you? Of course you are.’ She shook her head, and her neat hair danced gently in the breeze. ‘Too green to be a local. Have you even got suncream on?’
Thea bristled. ‘I should be getting back.’
‘Indeed you should, before you spontaneously combust.’
Thea turned to go, then realised the old woman, stuck upstairs and as stubborn as a Cornish cliff face, might have shouted down to her for a reason. ‘Can I get you anything? From the shops? I could pick up milk or bread, or go to the pharmacy if there’s anything you need.’
Thea saw a flash of something – a glimpse of vulnerability, perhaps – in the old woman’s eyes. Her shoulders dropped. If she could help her in some way …
‘You know, even with my creaky old bones, I’m not nearly as much of a state as you are.’ Thea was stunned into silence, which left room for the other woman to continue. ‘I reckon, right this moment, I could get down and up the hill as quickly as you.’
‘OK then,’ Thea said, unable to feel anything other than a bone-deep weariness. Let this woman tease her if it made her feel better; more connected to the world.
The older woman chuckled. ‘I’m only joking.’
‘Fine.’ It came out as a sigh.
‘Want me to call a big strong man to come and take you home?’ There was a gleam of amusement in her eyes now, and Thea was close to walking away. But curiosity won out again, as it so often did.
‘Know many of those, do you?’
‘I have one on speed-dial who would be only too happy to help a damsel in distress, and I’m sure he’d much prefer tending to your needs than mine.’ The old woman smiled, the change of expression transforming her from cantankerous to kind.
Thea thought of Finn, and how unabashedly helpful he’d been; his obvious ability to charm the socks off anything that moved.
‘I’m OK, really,’ Thea said, softening, because even though she’d said it in a very roundabout way, it seemed this older woman was looking out for her. But then she realised that was because she looked like someone who had, quite possibly, escaped from a hole that she’d fallen into weeks ago, who had been living on grass and rainwater, and had had to claw her way out in order to survive. Her reflection had suggested as much.
‘Get yourself home then, girl,’ the woman said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Thea.’
‘You don’t look like a Dorothea. Are you – wait, don’t tell me. You’re a Theophania.’
Thea stared up at her. ‘How did you guess?’
‘I went to school with a Theophania. She was a horrible creature, kept throwing my textbooks in the toilet.’
‘I’ve never done anything like that,’ Thea said indignantly. She didn’t add that she’d been on the receiving end of similar treatment during her own school years.
‘I don’t doubt it. Now, off you trot. I hope you’ve got some aloe vera, because you’ll be needing it for your burns.’ With that, the old woman disappeared inside and pulled the window closed, her movements gentling, as if any sort of force would lead to the thin glass falling out of its frame.
‘Bye then,’ Thea muttered, and then, baffled and wearied and wondering why, of all the people out walking today, these bizarre encounters had to happen toher, she stepped close to the building again. A bee drifted lazily out of the thick ivy next to her head. Its buzz startled her, but not enough to distract her from the bookshelves she’d been coveting earlier. Despite the dust, they were undoubtedlysolid, and they were a good indication of how much space the building had – not to mention the history that came with it. She wouldn’t think about the spiders, the possible rats, dry rot and mould. Everything had its issues, you just needed to look past those to the steady – and in this case charming – core.
She wondered what the old woman had meant when she said the building belonged to the town, and what they would do with it when she had moved in with her daughter. She caught sight of herself again, the way her hair was sweat-dampened in places, dry and frizzy in others, the glowing pink of her cheeks and nose, the general air she gave off of a woman who had given up on anything approaching self care. A headache was pulsing, from not enough water and too much sun, and she knew that the old woman was right, and she would have to get some aloe vera. She didn’t think she’d even remembered to pack Aftersun. She would have to go into town again and, despite her plan to explore it, right now all she wanted was the cool hideaway of Sunfish Cottage.
She turned away from the Old Post House, and began her trudge down the hill. She realised, as she was reading the signposts to find out which direction she needed to go in, that she hadn’t even found out the old woman’s name.
Thea dragged herself up the last bit of hill, along the path to the right of the coast road that, unlike earlier, was far enough away from the cliff edge to feel safe. She could see the cottages up ahead, just over the road, and tried not to whimper with relief.Home sweet home.The bottle of aloe vera infused aftersun felt heavy in her rucksack, and she’dalmost finished the two-litre bottle of water she’d bought, even though she knew she was supposed to sip it, rather than glug it all down in one go.
The Alfa Romeo was gone from outside the houses, but the van was still there. Thea would not be seeing Ben like this: no way. She climbed the stile set into a gap in the hedge, waited for a space in the Sunday afternoon traffic, then crossed the road and limped up the driveway. Then, keeping the van and her car between her and the houses for as long as she could, so as to shield her from anyone who happened to be looking out of the window of Oystercatcher Cottage, she made a beeline for her front door. She hurried past the table and chairs where she’d spent a pleasantfew hours – had it only been that morning? – then hauled her rucksack off, unzipped it and searched for the key.
She couldn’t find it, because the Gods of the Universe had decided that today was to be her darkest day. She took out the aloe vera cream, the empty sandwich and fudge packaging, and had kneeled down because that felt better than standing up any longer, when something cool nudged her leg. She jumped, then turned to find Scooter gazing at her balefully.
She sent a silent curse up to the Gods of the Universe – though she was honestly not surprised – and stroked the Australian Shepherd. His fur was so soft, and he came closer immediately, nuzzling her hot neck. Even though it meant that Ben wasn’t far away, Thea couldn’t help but be comforted by the simple affection. The dog knew she was knackered and frustrated, Thea was sure of that, and didn’t care that she looked like a fright fest.
‘Scooter?’ Ben’s deep voice was laced with irritation. ‘Scooter, where have you— oh.’
