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Page 18 of Snow Falls Over Starry Cove

5

Lady Bracknell

Once I reach The Rolling Scones, I hover outside to take in the beauty of it all. This isn’t a bakery – this is an art gallery! The entire window is a miniature Starry Cove, complete with gingerbread houses and liquorice street lamps topped with yellow marshmallows plus tables and benches outside the pub made in KitKats. I can’t get in fast enough.

‘Hello. Name’s Ralph, what can I get yeh?’ an elderly man who looks like he’s come straight off the set ofPoldarkwaves from the counter when it’s my turn.

‘Hello, may I please have… uhm… I don’t know – it all looks so good I’d have to live here a year just to begin sampling everything!’

He laughs. A loud, genuine belly laugh. ‘Well, let’s get you started on some Cornish gingery fairings, then.’

‘Ooh, yes, please!’

‘How about this one, topped with saffron icing?’

‘Oh my God…’

‘Start with a couple of these, on the house. What will you wash it down with?’

‘Uhm, coffee, please.’

‘Take a seat. I’ll bring it over d’rectly,’ he promises.

Happy as Larry, I sit by the window and look at the rear of the miniature cake village in the window. Even the backs of the buildings are perfect, from the Graham Cracker houses to the dark chocolate slate roofs. I’ve died and gone to Cornish cake heaven!

After the ginger fairings – OK,anda slice of carrot cake – I take a stroll through the village to walk it all off. The main road winding through the village eventually leads me down to the beach and harbour. Here, Georgian stone buildings act as a stepping stone for pastel-coloured cottages of confetti blue, apple green and candyfloss pink. They seem to climb atop one another on their ascent to the crest of the hill. An incredibly blue sky dwarfs the cove, where boats bob softly in the fresh morning air and the sky reflects in the clear waters.

I’m psyching myself to meet my grandmother. She won’t be expecting me, so maybe I should call first. Or perhaps just sneak past there incognito, after all, just to get a feel of the place. But what’s the rush? Why not buy myself a pasty for lunch and sit by the breakwater and watch this utterly lovely little world go by? So I do just that.

But at the counter, I’m at a loss. There are so many flavours to choose from that I can’t make up my mind: cheese and onion, yummy yum yum. Venison, stilton and rosemary? Curried potato pasty? Scotch egg pasty? Cheese and Marmite? And shepherd’s pie pasty? Have I died and gone to pasty heaven as well? As I’m contemplating my options, my mobile rings. I don’t need the ringtone of the ‘Monster Mash’ to tell me it’s my future mother-in-law. Nothing better to ruin my Christmas cheer.

‘Emily? Stephen tells me that you’re in Cornwall meeting your new relatives?’

Now why on earth had he thought it necessary to inform his mother?

‘My grandmother, yes.’

‘And she’s the reason you want to postpone the engagement party?’

‘Actually, the reason is my grandfather. He died.’

‘And hehasto be interred on the 25th?’

The cheek of this woman!

‘I’m so sorry this inconveniences you, Audrey, but it can’t be helped.’

Not that I was expecting her condolences. Those would have dutifully arrived only if the event hadn’t clashed with her show.

‘Yes, well, it figures. Back to square one in the family department. It’s a good thing you have us.’

Audrey is fiercely protective of her family sphere and doesn’t want anyone else to enter it, like an exclusive club you need a special pass to get into.

‘My son also tells me you and your grandmother are currently estranged. Can you manage to keep it that way until after the engagement party? I have a perfect number and I don’t want to ruin it.’

Can you honestly believe this woman?

Sensing my stupor, she adds, ‘We can always invite her to the wedding if you want to, but right now there’s no room.’