family occasion would freak her out. There are a few of my relations who were less than impressed with me spending most of my time abroad over the past few years, though I don’t care. They have no idea of the full story.
‘Rachel and Gary must be pleased you’re taking care of the catering.’
She brightens. ‘I think so. They’ve only recently moved back into their cottage in the cove and it’s far too small for an event like this.’
‘Considering they were flooded out at Christmas, they’re very lucky to be back in so soon,’ I say, reminding us both of the devastation wreaked on St Trenyan and the surrounding coast by the tidal surge the day before Christmas Eve.
‘The damage wasn’t quite as bad as expected and their insurance company was one of the ones that paid out quickly, unlike some.’ She strokes my arm idly, leaving tiny traces of flour on the brushed cotton of my shirt. ‘Thanks for sparing some time to help with the repair work. It meant a lot to them to move out of Rachel’s cousin’s flat and get back into their own place and start enjoying life with Freya.’
‘I didn’t mind at all. It’s lucky that your dad is an electrician and has so many mates in the trade who could lend a hand.’
‘It also helps that he’s been off the booze he took to after my mum died. Starting up his own business has been really good for him …’ Demi toys with the top button of my shirt, unbuttoning it absent-mindedly but making me shift in my seat. This conversation is going to end with both of us in bed if she stays here much longer. Surely that would a good thing for both of us, not that I need any excuse to take her to bed at any time. ‘Even though I’ve spent more time with them all and things are going well with Dad, I can’t help feeling nervous about Sunday.’
‘You’ll be absolutely fine. It’s tough to rebuild relationships with family you thought you’d never see again for one reason or another but Demelza’s is fresh territory and you’re all making a new start.’ I rub my hand along her thigh, enjoying the feel of her shapely bottom in my lap. ‘And let’s look on the bright side: any social occasion that doesn’t include Mawgan Cade has to be a bonus.’
Two weeks later
Demi
‘Come in, out of this bitterly cold wind. Who’d ever think it was the first day of spring? Oh, let me see the babe. She’s turning into such a little poppet. Such a lovely name too. Classic … nothing made-up or daft like some have now, and the shawl is beautiful. Reminds me of one my grandma made for me back in the day.’
Rachel glows with pride as Polly coos over Freya Penelope, who is now fast asleep, her little pink face nestled in a lacy bundle of wool. One hand has escaped her wrappings and her tiny fingers are curled around a scrap of shawl as if she knows it’s been made just for her and she’ll never let it go.
Cal was right. This social occasion doesn’t involve Mawgan Cade and it’s been way more enjoyable than I expected. So what if the leading lady was a bit of a drama queen when St Trenyan’s vicar, affectionately known as Rev Bev, poured water over her head? One of the christening guests told me it’s considered lucky if the baby cries at that moment. In that case, Freya should go on to win the lottery several times over.
‘I bet you could hear her howls from the harbour,’ I whisper to Cal, following the christening party out of the raw March afternoon into the warmth of Demelza’s. Despite the cutting wind, Kilhallon seems to have burst into life since Ben and Lily’s visit a few weeks ago. The sunnier hedgerows are already dotted with yellow primroses and the copse is studded with little white flowers that Polly told me are wood anemones.
Rachel’s sister and cousin did the honours as godmothers while Kyle acted as Freya’s godfather. I didn’t mind not being asked. I’m not religious and also I think Dad knew that I wouldn’t want the spotlight on me in such a public way. I’m far more comfortable handling the venue and catering – and most of all, I’m just so happy to be Freya’s big sister.
I watched Kyle taking on the role of godfather in quiet amazement. It’s been almost three years and he’s shot up: he’s a good few inches taller than Dad, and even a bit taller than Cal. Even though he’s in a suit, you can tell he’s in the army from the way he stands very upright and proud, with his shoulders back. His tawny hair is cropped short and his tanned cheeks are chiselled from all the exercise and drills. I have also never seen his shoes more shiny: when he was young, Mum could never get him out of his battered old Converses or trainers.
We didn’t have much time to chat at the church as we were a little late arriving but managed a quick word and a hug while a few photos were taken in the church porch. Now we’re back at the cafe, I’m hoping to catch up some more with Kyle.
Cal starts taking people’s coats and I head to the kitchens to make sure Polly and Robyn are OK with laying out the buffet. All the staff have had the afternoon off.
Polly practically bundles me out of the kitchen. ‘No, Demi, you’re not coming in here today.’
‘Polly’s so right,’ Robyn adds, words I never thought I’d hear from her as she’s generally not our blunt PA’s biggest fan. ‘You’re going to relax and enjoy the party. You must have so many people to catch up with, especially Kyle. He’s quite cute, if he was my thing, that is.’
‘Ha ha,’ I say. ‘Are you sure I can’t help out with the tea and coffee? Have the ovens been OK? Because I was worried you’d have trouble with the temperature control. They’re so different to the Aga.’
‘Demi. Get out of here!’ Polly and Robyn chime in unison and Robyn virtually frogmarches me into the cafe area. The truth is that I’d feel far more comfortable in the kitchen or behind the serving counter than making small talk and facing family I haven’t spoken to for years. Some of them nodded at me at the church and an auntie on Dad’s side gave me a hug but I keep thinking that they’re muttering about me.
After all, I did walk out on Dad, and for weeks at a time I didn’t even tell him I was safe. I must have caused him a lot of worry, even though I felt hurt and ignored by him at the time, while we were both grieving for my mum. I don’t think some of my lot can cope with having a relative who was voluntarily homeless for a while.
Helped by Cal, Polly and Robyn bring the platters of food into the cafe and start serving glasses of wine and hot drinks. I feel like a spare part, watching other people do my job and not knowing quite what to say to anyone but Freya, except she’s asleep in her buggy at the moment so I can’t even go and cuddle her.
I take a large gulp of wine and wonder if I dare slip into the kitchens again but spot Rachel make a beeline for me. She’s wearing a pretty shift dress and hot pink cardigan that shows off her slim figure. Close up, under her make-up, she also looks tired but that’s what you’d expect from someone with the worry of moving home and Freya to deal with. I think she’s in her late thirties although her clothes and make-up make her look younger. She’s at least ten years younger than my dad and she’s known him and me since before I left home.
In fact, Rachel was one of the reasons I walked out. We didn’t hit it off immediately but she’s been making an effort to be friendly since Christmas. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know why I hated her so much, apart from the fact she wasn’t my mum. When Dad asked her to move in, I saw it as the final insult and left. Rachel must have taken it personally, but really, the main reason we became estranged was all about my dad and me. The damage had been done long before Rachel even came on the scene. I’m determined not to bring bad memories up today and even if I can’t forget how I once felt about her ‘taking Mum’s place’, I’d never dream of spoiling her or Freya’s day.
Rachel arrives at my side. ‘Demi? This food is fantastic. Thanks so much for doing this. I couldn’t have coped with this tribe at the cottage. It’s great to have a professional take care of everything.’