Page 41 of The Cornish Cream Tea Holiday
Chapter Twelve
Thea discovered, that Friday afternoon, that Ben’s stubbornness wasn’t quite a match for Finn’s. As the two of them had a verbal battle on the beach, she and Meredith had to avoid each other’s gazes for fear of bursting into laughter that, she was sure, neither man would appreciate.
Ben said he categorically wasn’t taking part in the sand sculpture competition, and Finn was adamant that he was, and Thea wondered how the two friends would compare in a game of Top Trumps: Ben, stoic and thoughtful, his kindness and loyalty running like an underground river, underpinning everything; Finn, generous and effusive, with charm in abundance and an ability to persuade. She had a soft spot for Ben, of course, but that was only because she’d spent more time with him.
Finn eventually won the argument by appealing to the other man’s ego, suggesting they only had a chance of winning with a visionary builder on their team. Thea hid her smile behind her hand and Meredith guffawed into Crumble’s fur.
When Finn went to get drinks from one of the refreshment trucks, Ben said, without any prompting, ‘I only agreed to it to shut him up.’
‘Not because he said you were a visionary?’ Meredith asked sweetly.
Ben huffed. ‘No, because I’m not. Anyway, you’re both a part of this too, and I think we need to agree now that the best way to get through it is to do everything Finn says. Make what he wants us to make, take on the roles he assigns us. It’ll be a few hours of torture, then it’ll be done.’
‘I’m bowled over by your enthusiasm,’ Finn said as he returned, and Ben’s cheeks coloured. ‘But it’s a good plan. I can come up with an idea before Sunday, think about what will give us the best chance of winning. I’ll start working on it now.’
‘It’s just a friendly competition, Finn,’ Meredith said, laughing. ‘A bit of fun.’
‘And if everyone else goes into it with that attitude, then we’re even more likely to win,’ Finn replied with a smile. Thea could see the glint in his eye, and realised he was as bothered about the outcome as Ben had been about his barbecuing.
They got back to the twin cottages late on Friday evening, the burning sun hovering above the calm shimmer of the sea. It would soon be the longest day of the year, Thea realised, her thoughts contentedly sluggish after hours outside and too much good food.
They reached Ben’s door, and she paused. ‘Congratulations again,’ she said. ‘Second place for your first cook-off is pretty incredible.’
‘I’m pleased,’ he replied, smiling. ‘And look, about Sunday. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know Finn can be …’
‘Excitable?’
‘Overbearing. And I get the sense that he’s going to be unbearable over this.’
‘I came here to have a proper holiday,’ Thea said. ‘But if it wasn’t for you, Finn and Meredith, I would be reading out here,’ she gestured at the garden furniture, ‘going for long, hopeless hikes, and drifting through Port Karadow like a lonely ghost. I’ve had so much fun today, I’ve ticked another thing off my list, and sand sculpting isn’t going to take me as far out of my comfort zone as coasteering would.’
‘You keep telling yourself that,’ Ben said gently, and when Thea couldn’t hide her surprise, he grinned. ‘Whatever mad suggestion Finn throws at us, we’ll weather it together. You don’t have to worry with me there to back you up.’
Later, when Thea crawled into bed, tired and happy, it was Ben’s last words that kept going round and round in her head.
Thea allowed herself the laziest of Saturdays. She refused to let her thoughts drift to the unsatisfying meeting with Jamie Scable or the fact that, after his initial encouragement, Alex hadn’t been in touch to ask how it had gone. The stubborn part of her didn’t want to call him first, and the confident part told her she could do it all by herself anyway, so instead she spent her time sitting outside, readingBook Loversby Emily Henry – she had finished the Elly Griffiths book – and researching sand sculptures.
It seemed all that was required was sand and water, though you had to be strategic about the water quantities and placement, and she couldn’t imagine that the four of them would get anywhere close to the dragons and fairy-tale castles posted all over Instagram under the appropriate hashtags. If Finn was really expecting to win, then she was worried they were facing a day of stress followed by inevitable disappointment.
As Saturday afternoon shifted towards evening, the nerves started to creep up on her. Performing was very much not her thing: she was much happier standing on the sidelines or in the background, cheering people on as loudly as she could, or working behind the scenes, organising author talks and events at the library. The only time she made it to the front of a crowd was during the toddler groups. She never felt judged at those, because the toddlers were giddy at being read to, and the parents were grateful for an hour’s pause in their busy lives.
Experience had taught her that she wasn’t one of life’s leaders, that her confidence lay with her knowledge of books and the library, and she would rather not put herself on show when someone might find a reason to laugh at her or mock her. Would there be a crowd watching on Sunday, like there had been on Friday? Would judges walk past, pensive looks on their faces while they scrutinised her efforts? Would there be—
She jumped as a door opened, and looked up from her book. Ben and Scooter were standing on the doorstep, the dog pulling on his lead to get closer.
‘I’m taking Scooter for his walk,’ Ben said. ‘Do you want to come?’
Thea hesitated. She wanted to say yes, she realised. Except that she knew she would end up telling him how nervous she was about tomorrow, that she didn’t think she could do it, even though it was a friendly, fun competition. But Ben wasn’t an agony uncle, and she found it slightly disconcerting that she wanted to spill all her insecurities to him after only a few days in his company.
‘Thanks,’ she said, ‘but I’ve got a lasagne in the oven.’ It wasn’t entirely true, but it would be the moment he walked away.
‘You made lasagne?’
‘No! I bought one of those ready meals from the shop. Sorry.’
‘Ah.’
‘If I’d made it, then I would have invited you round to show off,’ she said. ‘Except that I would also be a little bit worried about poisoning you.’
