Page 31 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
The water was an inky, murky blue, and the cloud cover had blocked out the richness of the night sky, obliterating any chance of moonlight or stars. As she waited for her group to assemble around her, tendrils of mist slunk across the sea towards them. Was this Kerensa’s doing? That particular legend was too far out of town for Ollie to include tonight, but ever since she’d heard the story, her thoughts had tripped back to the young woman whenever she had a stroke of good fortune.
She turned, so she had her back to the railings, her small group facing her with eager expressions. ‘Port Karadow harbour,’ she said. ‘There’s no better place to eat chips orcandyfloss, that box of doughnuts from Sea Brew, or slurp down your hot chocolate. You get the fresh air, seaside soundtrack, an unbeatable view. On a sunny day, it’s busy with tourists and locals. But,’ she went on, softening her voice, ‘how many of you come here after dark? I don’t mean on pageant day, or to watch the New Year’s firework display. I’m talking about on a night like this.’
There was silence from her audience, and then a teenage girl who had come with her boyfriend, said, ‘Why wouldn’t we come here at night?’
‘Because you don’t want to catch sight of the Lost Fisherman,’ Ollie said gravely. ‘Seeing him is a sign of bad luck: one you won’t be able to shake off for a whole year.’
‘What does he look like?’ This was the smaller of the two ghostbusters, standing at the very front and looking up at her, blinking his surprise.
‘He appears as a light, drifting across the still waters of the harbour,’ Ollie said. ‘When you look more closely, you’ll see that there’s no boat attached, that the ship’s lantern is almost all that remains of him. He died, you see. Took his boat out when a terrible storm was forecast, confident that he knew the sea better than anyone, could navigate all her moods and tantrums, knew how to survive her at her worst. He realised, as his boat sank below the waves, that he was mortal, just like everyone else.’
‘What do you mean, the lantern isalmostall that’s left of him?’ This had come from Max. His dark curls fell over his forehead, and his hand was on Dylan’s shoulder, the boy standing in front of him.
‘As well as the light,’ she said, holding his gaze, ‘you can hear his halyard, clanging as if the storm was still raging.’She was overjoyed when she saw Max’s Adam’s apple bob: she was getting to him. ‘It’s a frantic, upsetting sound,’ she continued, ‘one that foreshadows his fate. If you hear it, or see the light, then bad luck is inevitable. The year ahead will be full of trouble, of sadness. Best, one would say, to avoid this place after da—’
‘Oh myGod!The light – there! Look!’
The single, screeching voice was soon joined by other exclamations, and Ollie spun to face the water, her eyes searching … searching … There. Shit.A lump solidified in her throat as she watched the soft glow hovering above the water, moving from north to south, weaving between the stationary boats that were clearly visible.
‘We have to go!’ another voice joined in.
‘The Lost Fisherman!’
‘Holy fuck!’
Ollie squinted, frantic. It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t have conjured up a bloody ghost just by talking about it. Her group were restless behind her, some on the verge of abandoning the walk altogether.
‘It’s not—’ She couldn’t say it wasn’t true: she didn’t want to break the spell. But if everyone ran, if they didn’t come back to A New Chapter, she would be accused of terrifying their customers and sending peopleawayfrom the bookshop. She focused on the light, peering closely, because it couldn’t be real, could it?
A hand landed on her good shoulder, squeezing gently, and she knew, without looking, that it was Max. She kept scanning the harbour, her breath lodged in her throat, and then – there.
‘It’s not the Lost Fisherman!’ she shouted, spinning round, trying to break through the commotion. ‘It’s a rowing boat, a late-night fisherman who is very much alive. See? Come and look – come on.’ She beckoned them all forward, called to the young couple who had run as far as the nearest bench. She coaxed them back, as if they were skittish kittens.
Everyone stepped up to the railings, peering through the night, and at that moment the tiny rowing boat – so small and dark that it was almost invisible – reached a bigger fishing boat. The glowing lamp spotlighted the smaller craft and the grizzled fisherman sitting in it. There were sighs and murmurs of relief, the bouncer whispered, ‘Fucking hell,’ and a couple of people laughed nervously, their voices frayed with fear.
‘It seems, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,’ Ollie said, surprised she could hear herself speak over the pounding of her heart, ‘that we have been spared the sighting of the Lost Fisherman, and have instead had an encounter with thebravefisherman. Who wants to row out to sea in such a small boat, in the darkness? Not me, that’s for sure.’ She exhaled, her breath puffing out a cloud into the night air. ‘Everyone suitably terrified?’
There were a few ‘yup’s, some mutters of assent, and Ollie rolled her shoulders, kneading the left one when it protested.
‘Excellent. I promise that our next spot is a little less traumatic. Ghostly, but much more benevolent. Who’s heard of Clotted Cream Cottage, at the edge of town?’ A few hands were raised, and all eyes were back on her. Thank God for that. Never mind the story of the Lost Fisherman, she hadbeen close to inventing her own Port Karadow legend: The Lost Bookshop Customers. That, she was sure, was the most frightening of them all.
When they made it back to A New Chapter, some of her guests picking up their pace as if it was a refuge they’d been searching for for days, Ollie held the door open and let everyone go ahead of her. Thea was there to greet them, offering elderflower cordial or glasses of wine, and Ollie watched, gratified, as most of them swarmed to her carefully curated Halloween table.
Dylan and Max were the last to enter, and Ollie waved them through the open doorway with a flourish.
‘That was awesome,’ Dylan said. ‘Max was really scared!’
He frowned. ‘Not true. You were the one who jumped when that rowing boat appeared.’
Dylan laughed, turning to look up at him. ‘It wasyou!’
Max sighed. ‘Maybe it was me. Let’s not tell anyone else though, hey? Got a book in mind you want to get?’
Dylan grinned. ‘Mum says I can choose one.’
‘Off you go, then. I’ll take you home in five minutes.’
They watched as Dylan rushed to the Halloween table, rather than heading for the children’s section.
