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‘Doesn’t it?’ Lila said. ‘And it’s not just Toby Welsh starring in it, but Aria Lundberg, that impossibly beautiful American-Scandinavian actress. It’s a big deal, Charlie. And we have a chance to be part of it. You never know, we might even get a chance to be in it! Like as an extra, or something.’
‘And this producer person, Winston?’ Charlie asked, ignoring her last comment. Lila nodded encouragingly. ‘He said he’d do a press release about our involvement? It’s not a secret?’
Lila shook her head. ‘He said part of his ethos for this shoot is using as many local suppliers as possible, to make it a truly Cornish series – aside from the bits in Bristol, of course – but a lot of it’s being shot down here, and he wants everyone to know that this is a production not just set in Cornwall, but about and for Cornwall.’ She pressed her hand against her chest as she repeated his passionate statement.
Charlie snorted. ‘You fell for that?’
‘I believed him,’ she said quietly, her hope fizzling to nothing. Clara’s face popped into her head, the fury in her eyes matching her words. Lila pushed it out again.
Charlie sighed and rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. ‘You have to let me think about it. It’s a big change for Gertie.’
‘But it could be an amazing one,’ Lila said, kicking a leg up into the air. ‘And just imagine, when it’s over you can come back to Porthgolow, do all the summer food markets with this under your belt. Think of all the stories you’ll have to tell, the publicity that will continue even once filming has finished. I’m sure there’ll be some restrictions on what we can add to the socials, but we can check that out with Winston. Gertie will love it.’
‘Gertie’s a bus,’ Charlie said. ‘She doesn’t have the capacity for love.’
Lila gasped. ‘Charlie, why would you say such a thing? She’s your beloved bus!’
Charlie wrinkled her nose and looked at Lila, her expression softening ever so slightly. ‘This is a crazy, crazy thing, Delilah. You do realize that, don’t you?’
Lila nodded. She was holding her breath, crossing her fingers behind her back and sending a prayer to the gods of fate, which she did quite often, even though she didn’t know exactly who they were.
‘I mean,’ Charlie continued, ‘if anyone was going to get themselves embroiled in a TV production within days of arriving somewhere, it would be you. And in sleepy little Porthgolow, too. You’re some kind of drama magnet, aren’t you?’
‘That’s not always a good thing,’ Lila said. ‘But on this occasion, I think it really could be.’
‘There will be loads of practicalities to sort out,’ Charlie added. ‘When exactly we’re needed, where we’ll be based, when I can fit my tours in around it. The food market can cope without Gertie, especially as it’s only once a month at the moment, but when summer comes …’
‘She’ll be needed here. I totally get that. So?’ Lila glanced up as the first raindrops hit the windows. It was properly dark outside now, and she thought that the inside, ironically, must look like a stage set to anyone looking in: they were lit up behind glass walls for all the world to see. She pictured a ghostly figure on the cliff top in the dark and the rain, only fragments of the moon appearing through the clouds to illuminate her. She shuddered. It was going to be an amazing drama, and now Lila knew about it, she desperately wanted to be part of it. ‘What do you think?’
‘I need to sleep on it,’ Charlie said. ‘And we’ve got massages booked. After this revelation I am sorely in need of one, and I’m sure you are, too.’ She sat up and swung her legs over her lounger, then held out her hand to Lila. ‘Television catering proposition aside, you did a great job of looking after Gertie today. You are a complete liability, obviously,’ she added, smiling, ‘but you’re my liability. Let’s go and get the stress pummelled out of us, and I’ll think about it some more.’
Lila took Charlie’s hand and let her pull her to her feet. She should be feeling relieved: Charlie could easily have said a point-blank ‘no’ and then Lila would have been in serious trouble. But she was hanging on by a thread. She had shaken Winston’s hand, said it would be no problem, basically conveyed to him that it was a done deal. But if Charlie agreed to it, she wouldn’t have to admit to her that that was what she’d done.
If she could manage both sides for a couple more days, then everything would be fine and Lila, Charlie and Gertie could embark on the adventure of their lives. The alternative wasn’t worth thinking about, and so, Lila decided, as she shrugged on the impossibly soft robe and followed her cousin through the door that led to the spa, she wouldn’t. It was much better to focus on the positives.
‘Toby Welsh?’ Juliette squealed, sending Marmite and Daniel’s German shepherd, Jasper, into a frenzy. ‘Come on, Char, you have to say yes! And you have to let me help out, too. I’m sure there’s room for all three of us, and if it’s busy, you’ll need all hands on deck.’ She elbowed Lila in the side and gave her a conspiratorial smile. Lila smiled back and picked up a stick from the damp sand, throwing it in the direction of the dogs, who had raced off to inspect an ugly mound of seaweed close to the water.
It was the day after her meeting with Winston Thorpe, the day after her admission to Charlie and, despite sleeping like a log after the session at the Crystal Waters Spa Hotel, including the best massage she’d ever had, Lila was worried. She’d had a text from Winston saying he was bringing a contract for her to sign that afternoon, which meant that Lila had to convince Charlie by then, and then somehow also convince her that the production team moved so quickly that they had magicked up a contract in only a couple of hours. Juliette, though, was doing a good job of helping her cause.
‘It’s a big change, Jules,’ Charlie said. ‘I feel like I’ve got a routine established with Gertie now, and I don’t want to mess it about too much in case we lose all our regulars.’
‘Think of it as a hiatus,’ Juliette said. ‘It’s only for a few months, right, Lila? And then Gertie comes sailing back into Porthgolow, famous for being the only Cornish Cream Tea Bus in the world, and the star of a BBC production. OK, she’s not going to star in the show, but she’ll be on set, hobnobbing with the talent. It’s a scintillating prospect.’
‘Scintillating?’ Lila asked.
Juliette shrugged. ‘I’m trying to stop using the word “stupendous”. I seem to say it all the time, after Jonah started using it to describe the Porthgolow burgers. Scintillating is a bit over the top, though.’
‘I don’t think it is,’ Lila said. ‘I think scintillating is the perfect description, Jules.’
Charlie had often pointed out their physical similarities. They were both dark-haired, petite, bright-eyed (Lila couldn’t help adding ‘bushy-tailed’ to the end of that description) but where Juliette’s skin caught the sun easily, perhaps thanks to her French roots, Lila was decidedly Celtic, with her patchwork of dark freckles and pale skin beneath. An old boyfriend had told her she was like Bambi, with big dark eyes, spots and gangly limbs, as if she was always on the verge of falling over. Lila hadn’t believed him at the time, but if the falling over was more metaphorical than physical, then maybe he had a point.
She opened the dictionary app on her phone. ‘Scintillating,’ she read aloud. ‘Sparkling or shining brightly. That is exactly what this opportunity is doing, Charlie. Shining brightly like a beacon in your and Gertie’s future. Just think of the possibility, the fun, the celebrity selfie opportunities! We could serve a cream tea to Toby Welsh. And I bet he’s not the only gorgeous actor in the cast – there are two brothers in the plot, for starters. I know you’ve got Daniel now, but think of me. Think of poor, single, lonely me. Except, obviously, it’s not all about me – it’s hardly about me at all. It’s you, and Gertie, the future of the Cornish Cream Tea Bus.’ She turned in a circle, arms stretched towards the sky, and tripped over Marmite as he came racing back to join the party, only just stopping herself from landing face-first in the shallow water.
Juliette let out a loud laugh and Lila caught Charlie’s eye; she was smiling. Lila’s heart lifted.
‘Never mind Toby Welsh or Aria Lundberg,’ Charlie said. ‘It’s you who should be on that television set.’
Lila pranced and did a ridiculous curtsey in response. ‘So you think we should go? Let Gertie be part of the craft catering? Come on, Charlie, what’s the worst that can happen?’
Charlie sighed, looked out to sea and then crouched to ruffle Marmite’s damp fur. Lila fidgeted with impatience. Finally, she stood, walked up to Lila and took both her hands. ‘OK, Lila. You, me and Gertie. We’ll do this. But next time, please, please check with me before you commit us to anything. I know it’s a great opportunity that I would regret turning down, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy with the way it’s been thrust upon us. OK? Spontaneity will only get you so far, and then it’ll get you in trouble.’
‘Says the woman who turned her uncle’s bus into a café on a whim, and almost had a huge disaster at the fair on the field,’ Juliette chimed in. Lila resisted the urge to hug her, and then she didn’t. She embraced Charlie, and then Juliette, and then Marmite and Jasper, not caring that their noses were slick with sea water, and then when Daniel appeared at the edge of the beach wearing a smart shirt and trousers, she ran over to him and, without saying anything, hugged him, too.
They were going to be part of Estelle. Suddenly, coming to Cornwall felt as if it had been the best idea in the world, because that world was now opening up in front of her with endless, breathtaking possibility – and Lila wasn’t just talking about the magnificent Cornish coastline.
Chapter Five
Once Charlie had decided they were committed to Estelle, their lives became one, never-ending to-do list. Lila shouldn’t have been surprised, Charlie was nothing if not determined, but the level of thought she put into everything made Lila feel like a scatty adolescent.
‘We can’t just sign the contract Winston sent over,’ Charlie said, the day after their beach walk with Juliette, while they were making a fresh batch of scones and some white chocolate and walnut cookies for the bus. Charlie had a habit of flinging her spatula around, and Marmite was sitting next to the fridge, waiting for any morsels of cake mix to come flying in his direction.
‘Why not?’ Lila asked. ‘It’ll have all the relevant details and clauses and whatnot, won’t it?’
‘Gertie’s reputation relies on more than a few bits of whatnot,’ Charlie said, using the spatula as a pointing finger. Lila wiped a splodge of mix off her nose and checked that her top had survived unscathed.
‘So what do we need to check?’
‘I’ve made a list. We need to see Winston.’
The list Charlie went through was long. Winston sat opposite them both, back on board Gertie, an early March rain pelting the windows as if it was desperate to get in out of the cold. Lila clasped her mug, enjoying the faint burning sensation of hot water through ceramic, and nibbled on a cookie while Charlie and Winston were locked in an intense discussion.
Charlie had thought of everything, ideas that hadn’t even crossed Lila’s mind when she was faced with the enticing prospect of entering the entertainment business, or in the days afterwards, when she’d had time to mull it over. Where would the bus be situated at each site, and what was the ground like? Charlie could guarantee it would be their biggest and heaviest food truck, even if it did have a winch. What were the hours, and would the bus be expected to stay on site for the duration of a particular location, or was there access for it to come and go? The price Winston was offering for several weeks’ use of the bus seemed eye-wateringly high to Lila, but Charlie didn’t bat an eyelid; instead she made a point of listing the regular events the bus would have to forgo while they were a part of the craft service.
By the end Lila felt entirely bamboozled, but Winston and Charlie shook hands, wearing matching, excited smiles. Winston agreed to amend the contract accordingly and said he’d post the copies, first class, the following day. They stepped down onto the sand, even though the rain was still falling, and waved a goodbye as he got back in his car and drove up the hill.
‘Monday the sixteenth of March,’ Charlie said. ‘That’s the first day at the first location, down near Cape Cornwall.’ She gave a wistful sigh.
‘It’s beautiful, is it, Cape Cornwall?’
‘The most.’ Charlie whirled round, making Lila jump. ‘Oh Lila, this is going to be amazing! Being on a television set on location in Cornwall. Do you think we’ll get to watch a lot of the action? Just think, Toby Welsh coming on board little old Gertie, dressed as Henry Bramerton, asking for a cream tea or a cappuccino. Do you think we should make Estelle-themed cakes? Gingerbread ghosts? I still don’t know which house they’re using for the Bramerton brothers’ new pile, do you?’
Lila shook her head slowly, not bothering to hide her amusement. ‘It’s a great opportunity, isn’t it? A really brilliant, really exciting thing.’
Charlie gave her a sheepish look and then flung her arms around Lila’s shoulders. ‘It took me a while to get there, obviously, but what you’ve done is perfect, Lila! Gertie gets a whole new lease of life, and then will be back in Porthgolow in time for high season. You are a marvel!’
Lila waved her praise away, but her heart swelled. A marvel? She’d never been called that. Nobody had had a good word to say about her in such a long time, and those bad ones, those truly awful things that Clara had said to her, and which she fully deserved, followed her around like a cloak tied tightly around her neck.
‘You really think so?’ she asked.
‘I know so. I do, Lila. You’re brilliant. Thank you.’
They walked up the hill to Charlie’s house, and it was a good thing the wind was strong and the rain, while no longer pelting, was still falling in steady, heavy drops, because Lila could use both of those as excuses for her watering eyes.
It was the morning of their first day, so early that it was still inky black outside, and Lila could not have slept for one more wink even if she’d started up her sleep stories app. They would be wearing aprons and have their hair tied back, and would most likely be almost invisible to the very busy cast and production team of Estelle, and yet the entire contents of Lila’s wheelie suitcase lay draped over the bed, armchair and rug in Charlie’s spare room. The wardrobe, inevitably, was empty.
Lila threw herself out of bed and, after a shower, began trying on clothes. If she’d had an inkling that this day was coming before she’d made the journey from London, the contents of her suitcase would have been very different. She tried on an emerald top over skinny, ripped jeans, then a sheer silver affair, then a tight crimson blouse with lace detail. Then she remembered that the aprons were the same colour as Gertie’s paintwork. In the end she pulled on a tight black pullover with cut-outs in the sleeves and a low neckline, giving her ample scope to adorn herself with chunky silver necklaces and earrings. She tied her dark hair back in a high ponytail, and added a generous flick of eyeliner.
Charlie was waiting in the living room, her smile unable to disguise the nervous energy Lila knew was bubbling beneath the surface. She knew because she had it too. Gertie was fully stocked, and with a few new treats that hadn’t, before today, been sold on the Cornish Cream Tea Bus. Gertie had also been given a wash in the car park of Daniel’s hotel, a hose and a broom making quick – but very soggy – work of the acres of red paintwork. The bus was ready, and so were they. They were actually doing this.
It was still dark when they left. Once they got off the main route, the roads were tiny and perilous, so Charlie had to creep the bus along them as if she was sneaking up on an enemy. Lila sat at one of the downstairs tables with Marmite on her lap.
‘Are you sure we’re allowed to bring him?’ she asked, pushing the dog’s soft fur into a parting on his forehead and chuckling when he gave her a mournful look, as if he knew exactly what kind of ridicule she was subjecting him to.
‘Winston said it was fine: apparently it’s good to have mascots sometimes, and animals can be a calming influence on set, so long as you’re not trying to make them behave on screen.’
‘I’m happy you’re not left out,’ Lila cooed at Marmite. ‘Who could possibly not want you? Everyone will want you. Who do you think we should make friends with first? Toby or Aria? You’ll help, won’t you, puppy?’
‘My dog is not a dating accessory,’ Charlie said, laughing.
‘He’s a good ice-breaker, though. I’ve loved getting to know him.’ Lila stared out of the window, where a thin band of gold was slowly widening above the shadowy landscape. ‘Thank you, Charlie, for letting me stay on.’
‘I could hardly make you go home when you’ve got us into this, could I?’
‘You could have done it by yourself – or brought Juliette. She was dying to come, I could tell.’
‘Jules is busy with her own business. She’s helped out with the Cornish Cream Tea Bus in the past, and I did talk to her about it, but she’s got lots of marketing contracts at the moment. She’s happy with photos and the odd titbit of gossip – of course without breaking any of Winston’s rules.’
There was a long list of things they couldn’t do once they were there: no photos of any of the cast on set or any of the location set-ups, and no sharing details – not even the tiniest morsel – of the plot that they gleaned along the way. It was restrictive, but Lila knew why. She’d seen enough long-lens photos of various dramas on the Daily Mail website, and she hated the thought of being one of those vultures, leeching all the information, and all the fun, out of it. If she happened to find out any plot details, she would keep them entirely to herself.
By the time they reached the turn-off, blocked by a man in a hi-vis jacket and a clipboard, the sun was hovering above the fields, a mist shrouding the Cornish countryside and the sea beyond in a low, glistening veil. It was breathtaking. Lila would have run up the stairs to get a better view, had she not been called on by Charlie to present herself to the guard ticking them off his list of authorized personnel. So far, so inconspicuous, but then Lila knew they wouldn’t want a huge sign announcing them, that they would want to film in as much peace as possible. News was bound to get out about the production soon enough. She wondered if she’d have the opportunity to kick a few Daily Mail photographers, or perhaps throw jugs of water over them. She knew Gertie had a good stock of jugs – and teapots – on board.
As Charlie inched the bus down the hill towards the sea, the land dropping steeply ahead of them, Lila was reminded of country fairs, the times she’d taken short-cuts behind the trucks, generators pumping, metal coupling-heads sticking out. There were a lot of vans and lorries, people hurrying in different directions, the whole place a hive of activity. It didn’t look disorganized, but it didn’t scream of glamour, either. There was no area cordoned off that she could see, with cameras and bounce boards and preening actors, but it was still early.
‘Do you think the starring actors have their own trailers?’ Charlie asked. ‘Huge ones with double beds and showers and kitchens, even though all the food is provided for them and they don’t have to lift a finger?’
‘Isn’t that more in America?’ Lila peered at a row of boxy vehicles over to the left. ‘Maybe here they’re more like luxury caravans?’
‘There must be a catering area, though. Hang on.’ She leaned out of the window and spoke to a young woman in a hi-vis coat, her hair frizzing around her temples in the damp air. ‘Yup,’ she said, putting Gertie in gear. ‘Just down here and to the right.’
Charlie expertly parked the double-decker in the space she was directed to, and Lila stood up and surveyed their surroundings. They were next to a long white marquee with plastic windows, and a couple of smaller food trucks – one serving coffee, and one which displayed a selection of fruit, chocolate bars and packets of crisps. Ahead of the bus, the rows of trucks and vehicles continued, but between those, Lila caught glimpses of the sea, turning from grey to blue in the early morning light.
Charlie unlocked Gertie’s door. The air smelled of damp vegetation, salt, and a comforting aroma that reminded Lila of stews at her grandparents’ house during the winter.
‘Cornwall isn’t short of stunning views,’ Charlie murmured, before walking back to the kitchen. ‘Come on, let’s get ready.’
Ten minutes later, scones were warming in the oven and the coffee machine was ready for action. Charlie was telling Lila – unnecessarily, because it was a trick she was well aware of – that she always made a coffee for herself first thing, not only so she had a caffeine hit, but also so the bus would smell enticing the moment anyone walked on board, when they were joined by a woman with short blonde hair, wearing jeans, a plaid shirt and a warm-looking gilet.
‘Welcome to the Cornish Cream Tea Bus,’ Lila said with a flourish. ‘What can I get you?’
‘I’m Em, the catering manager,’ the woman replied, shaking Lila’s hand and then Charlie’s. ‘Winston must have mentioned me?’
‘Yes of course,’ Charlie said. ‘This all looks wonderful,’ she added, gesturing out of the window. Lila wouldn’t have described a catering tent and a coffee stop as ‘wonderful’, but she knew it was important to make a good impression.
Em nodded, glancing at the bus’s tiny kitchen, and then at Marmite, who was sitting on the driver’s seat. She folded her arms. ‘It’s great to have you here,’ she said, without an ounce of enthusiasm. ‘It is all a bit unorthodox, having you as well as the catering and craft services, but Winston was adamant you had to come, and it does fit in with our “keeping it local” ethos. I suppose he’s told you how this all works?’
‘We’re here for today’s filming, and we’re to serve anyone who comes on board.’
‘Winston said he’d agreed with you that you could go off site at the end of each day?’ Em rubbed her forehead, and Lila wondered whether she was making a point of seeming anguished.
‘He did,’ Charlie said, slowly, ‘but if that’s going to be a problem …’
‘We do like as little disruption as possible, once everyone’s in place. If you have another way of getting here tomorrow, we can get a car to take you home tonight, and you can leave the bus on site.’
Lila bit back a gasp. No way would Charlie leave Gertie so far away.
‘There’s good security, I presume?’ Charlie asked, and when Em nodded, her cousin’s smile was wide. ‘Then of course that’s fine. I’ve been through the schedule with Winston, and he knows the few days the bus is unavailable.’
‘Excellent. Thank you for accommodating us.’ She gave them both a small but genuine-seeming smile. ‘If you’ve got a moment, I’d like you to meet the rest of the catering team.’
‘Sure,’ Charlie said and, making sure Marmite was secure in the bus’s cab, followed Em off the bus. Lila took up the rear, wrapping her arms around her to try and shield herself from the biting, cliff-top wind.
Em led them into the large white marquee and began the introductions. It seemed as though there were hundreds of people, and Lila was worried she wouldn’t remember any names, except for Mina, who was the head chef. She was as tall as Charlie and had plum-coloured hair and pale, ghostly lips, and laughed uproariously at almost anything. They all seemed friendly, and they were interested in the bus, asking how Charlie developed her recipes and about the pitfalls of working in such a tiny kitchen.