THE CORNISH CREAM TEA CHRISTMAS
PART TWO
Let Jingle Buns Ring!
Cressida McLaughlin

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

The News Building

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain in e-book format in 2020 by HarperCollinsPublishers

Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2020

Cover design Caroline Young © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020.

Cover illustration © May Van Millingen

Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008408718

Ebook Edition © October 2020 ISBN: 9780008408756

Version: 2020-09-09

Dedication

For Kate, Tim, Clara and Pete

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Part Two: Let Jingle Buns Ring!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Acknowledgements

Cressy’s Christmas away from home …

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Cressida McLaughlin

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Cornwall was angry about something. That was the first thought Hannah Swan had as she stepped out of the Seven Stars with Daniel Harper, Charlie Quilter and her new colleague, Noah Rosewall, and into the storm. They had enjoyed their evening in the pub, a celebration of sorts after Hannah and Noah had spent the week at Daniel’s clifftop hotel, Crystal Waters, preparing a report on how to enhance the hotel’s green credentials. Hannah was beginning to regret that she hadn’t had more time to get to know the Cornish village of Porthgolow, or her attractive, Cornwall-based co-worker, but now those thoughts were on hold because there was no room for anything else but the storm.

Porthgolow’s usually placid cove roared with the sound of wave after wave crashing onto the sand, as if they were fighting each other in their desperation to reach land. Hannah was worried about Gertie, the Cornish Cream Tea Bus, but a quick glance told her that the vintage Routemaster was far enough above the tideline to survive even an extreme assault. Charlie was also looking at her bus and Hannah wanted to say something reassuring, but the ferocity of the wind and rain made keeping their eyes open – let alone talking – difficult.

The streetlights flickered, adding to her unsteady feeling, and something was banging repeatedly somewhere nearby, as if a board or door had come loose. She moved closer to Noah and he put his arm around her shoulder, anchoring her to him. They followed Daniel and Charlie along Porthgolow’s seafront, until they came to the road that cut up through the centre of the village, sea-facing houses in neat rows on either side. Charlie clasped Hannah and then Noah’s hand, gave Daniel a quick, tight hug, and then began striding away from them, her long legs making short work of the climb. Daniel watched her for a moment and then turned and gave them a thumbs-up.

Hannah wanted to laugh, the gesture wildly comical under the circumstances, but she and Noah returned it, and they started walking again.

Soon Hannah was soaked, chilled to the bone and struggling to drag in a full lungful of air. It was as if the storm was stealing her breath, and it was starting to feel less exhilarating and more exasperating. They hadn’t even reached the end of the seafront, and somehow they had to get all the way up the cliff.

Something small and white darted across in front of her, a bright streak in the dark, causing her to trip and Noah to tighten his hold on her. She peered past him, trying to see what it was.

‘What?’ Noah said, almost shouting to be heard.

‘Hang on!’ she shouted back, and shrugged out of his grasp.

All the buildings on the seafront, apart from Myrtle’s Pop-In, had three stairs leading up to their front doors, the houses tall with high windows. Hannah cupped her hands around her eyes to shield them from the rain, and was rewarded when she saw the white shape huddled against the steps of the bed and breakfast.

She crept towards it, keeping her movements small. She was only a few feet away when she saw what it was: a small, bedraggled dog. It looked up at her with large eyes, its ears drooping, its whole body vibrating with fear and cold.

‘Oh my God,’ Hannah murmured, and reached a hand out. Rather than cringe from her touch, the dog shuffled towards her. She unzipped her coat, picked the creature up and hugged it against her chest, covering it as best she could. It was about the size of Marmite, solid and heavy in her arms, mostly white with a few dark patches of fur.

‘Hannah?’ Noah and Daniel had followed her, and when she turned and pointed at the dog’s nose sticking out of her coat, they stared at her as if she’d gone mad. But the wind was stronger than ever, shrieking its fury, and the raindrops were like pebbles, so there wasn’t time for explanations. Noah held his hand out and Hannah took it, clutching the dog against her with her free arm.

They heaved themselves up the hill, Daniel’s pace relentless, Hannah’s legs aching before they were halfway up. The roaring of the wind got louder and the clouds churned above them, releasing an occasional glimmer of moon, like a spotlight behind curtains. She had been excited in the pub, but now she could almost taste her fear. Despite staying on the side of the road furthest from the sea, they were still close enough to the cliff edge that a strong gust could sweep them to unforgiving rocks and deadly undercurrents far below. Hannah adjusted her hold on Noah’s hand, lacing her fingers through his.

After what seemed like hours, they reached the familiar brick wall of the hotel. They hurried across the car park, the automatic doors opening for them and, just as quickly, shutting behind them, dulling but not eliminating the sounds of the storm.

Marnie, the receptionist, stared aghast as they caught their breaths, dripping water onto the polished floor. She disappeared as Hannah pushed her hood off her face.

‘Who’s this guy?’ Noah asked, taking off his own hood.

‘I don’t know, but he was getting drowned.’ The dog stared up at Hannah, Noah and then Daniel, his dark eyes intelligent. ‘I know he’s probably not allowed in the hotel, but I couldn’t leave him there.’

‘Of course not,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ve never seen him before, and I would have thought that if he belonged to someone in the village, I’d recognize him.’

The dog pulled a leg free from Hannah’s coat and pawed Noah’s arm. Now he was out of the storm, he seemed curious rather than frightened. Hannah unzipped her coat all the way, and the dog turned and licked her cheek.

‘He’s very cute,’ she said, ‘but I don’t know what to do with him.’

‘He can stay here for now,’ Daniel replied. ‘He can’t go back out in that.’ He took his phone out of his pocket and his expression softened. He pressed a button and held it to his ear, grinning when his call was answered. ‘Charlie, you made it home OK?’ He walked away from them as Marnie appeared with large, fluffy towels. She handed them out and then stopped, her eyes fixed on the dog.

‘We found him out in the storm,’ Hannah explained. ‘Daniel said it’s fine to keep him here for the moment. He doesn’t recognize him – do you?’

Marnie held out a hand and the dog sniffed it. ‘I’ve never seen him before. There’s no collar, either.’

‘He doesn’t look like a pedigree,’ Noah said. ‘Just a good old mutt. No offence, dog.’ He said it affectionately, ruffling the fur under its chin. When he unzipped his coat, Hannah could see his dark shirt was soaked, the cotton clinging to his torso.

‘Can I put the dog down?’ she asked Marnie, turning away from Noah.

‘Sure. He’s no more bedraggled than most of the guests this evening. I’ll make sure the floor is dried before anyone else walks on it.’

Hannah could see they’d all tracked in a fair amount of water, the stone even shinier than usual. She set the dog down gently and he started exploring, Marnie keeping a watchful eye on him. Hannah took the opportunity to dry her hair with the fluffy towel which, she realized with glee, was also warm. She took her time, running it over her hair and face, imagining the hot shower she would have when she got back to her room.

‘Better?’ Noah asked, when she emerged. He’d also dried his hair, and for the first time his curls were unleashed. They were thick and dark and unruly, and so gorgeous that Hannah didn’t know why he ever tried to hide them. He gave her a tentative smile, and she felt a surge of pure lust.

‘Much better,’ she managed. ‘You?’

He nodded. ‘We’ve survived one of Cornwall’s more impressive storms. The waves sounded immense, but I didn’t think it was wise to stop and take a look on our way back.’

‘There’s a great view from the snug,’ Marnie said. She was following the dog around the space, presumably making sure he didn’t wander – or relieve himself – anywhere he shouldn’t. He was sniffing the Christmas tree, his short tail wagging. ‘We’ve been turning all the lights off, so you can really see what the sea’s up to,’ she continued. ‘You should go, get properly dry. I can make you a couple of hot chocolates.’

‘That sounds like a good idea,’ Daniel said, joining them, his own towel slung around his shoulders.

‘Did Charlie get back safely?’ Hannah asked.

‘She did, and the dogs are fine too. I pity any poor bastard who has to be out in this – twenty minutes was enough for me. Are you both all right?’

‘Is that all it was?’ Hannah asked, astonished. ‘It seemed like hours.’

Daniel laughed. ‘Afraid so. It did feel a bit Herculean. But well done for rescuing the dog; I didn’t see him.’

‘He shot across in front of me. I thought it was a ghost for a moment,’ she added, then bit her lip.

To her relief, Daniel grinned. ‘Escaped from here, you mean? If that was the case then the Crystal Waters ghosts are stupid. Nobody would go into that voluntarily. Speaking of which, Noah, are you going to stay here tonight?’

Noah shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘If that’s OK? Not sure I want to risk it when you’re offering a more attractive alternative. I’ll just have to make a call.’

‘No problem,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll make sure there’s a room ready for you.’

They disappeared in different directions, leaving Hannah alone. She took her sodden coat and her towel and went into the snug. There were a few people in there, the lights low and atmospheric, the bar top shimmering invitingly. She went to the long bench in front of the huge window: there was a couple at one end, talking softly while they shared a bottle of wine. Hannah put her coat and towel on the opposite end and kneeled on the seat, pressing her hands against the glass.

Marnie had been right: the sea was a gargantuan monster, giant waves reaching like thick arms up to the sky before crashing down, bubbling foam gleaming in the intermittent moonlight. The wind screamed around the outside of the building, as if desperate to get in, and Hannah shuddered. She tried to think of pleasant things, like whether she should have cream and marshmallows on her hot chocolate, but her mind skipped quickly to Noah. She wondered who he was phoning; who was waiting for him in Mousehole. She sighed, and felt a gentle pressure on the bench next to her. The dog had joined her, and was looking up at her expectantly with his soulful eyes.

Hannah laughed and sat properly on the seat, scratching the fur between his ears. He lay down and put his nose on her thigh, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘You’re adorable,’ she said. ‘Where did you come from? Who’s missing you tonight?’ She swallowed. Who was missing her? Who would have been worried if they’d known she was out in the storm?

Saskia was enjoying her updates from Cornwall, but was busier than ever at work; her mum had been impatient with her the last time they spoke; a call with her brother, Mike, was long overdue, and her dad was god knows where. Even Seth was unaware how much Hannah had cared for him. She paused. Had? She couldn’t stop being interested in Seth because she’d spent a week with an often irritated, occasionally teasing man who, after Saturday, she would only communicate with via phone and email. She put her head in her hands and the dog whined gently.

‘Hannah? Goodness, are you OK? You look positively bedraggled.’

Hannah looked up to see Audrey staring down at her. Her words were full of concern, but her expression was curious. She was a researcher, Hannah remembered; she was probably intrigued by everything.

‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘We got caught in this on the way back from the pub.’ She waved a hand towards the window. ‘I’m just warming up.’

‘May I?’ Audrey gestured to the chair opposite.

‘Of course. I think Marnie’s bringing us hot chocolates. Noah will be here in a moment, and maybe Daniel, too.’ She knew she was wittering, but she found Audrey’s gaze unnerving, as if she could tell that Hannah had been thinking about Noah and was quietly amused by it.

‘And your furry companion?’ Audrey asked, as she placed a large glass of red wine on the table. ‘I didn’t realize dogs were allowed at the hotel.’

‘I found him on the way here,’ Hannah said. ‘He came from the beach, I think, though I have no idea how he ended up there.’

Audrey turned her hazel eyes on the dog. ‘A little mystery, then.’

Hannah swallowed. ‘Have you found out any more about the hauntings?’

Audrey gave her a warm smile. ‘Are you interested?’

‘Yes,’ she said, realizing she meant it. Maybe it was the storm adding to the atmosphere, but it felt like the perfect night for a ghost story. ‘I really am. It’s not a typical haunted hotel, is it?’ She laughed, and Audrey joined in.

‘No, but in some ways that makes it more fascinating – more worthwhile. Sceptics can easily discount strange noises in a centuries-old building: the creak of floorboards, timbers shifting. Here, there are fewer places for the ghosts – and the explanations – to hide.’

Marnie carried over a tray with three hot chocolates on, each one topped with a cream and marshmallow mountain. ‘Would you like one?’ she asked Audrey.

‘No, thank you.’ Audrey gestured to her wine glass.

‘Are Daniel and your friend joining you?’ Marnie said to Hannah. ‘I don’t want these to go cold.’

‘They should be,’ Hannah murmured, glancing towards reception as she took one of the mugs. She didn’t know where either of them had gone. Was Noah still having to deal with his difficult situation from afar?

‘Great!’ Marnie grinned and left them to it.

‘You know, there’s a theory that storms increase paranormal activity,’ Audrey said. She took a sip of her wine, watching Hannah over her glass. She was very pretty, behind the ostentatious glasses, the frizzy hair and concentrated frowns.

‘There is?’ Hannah asked. ‘Why?’

‘Because storms stir up the energy in the atmosphere, and that in turn agitates whatever spirits, or souls, are here with us.’

‘I haven’t heard that on any of the Edinburgh ghost tours,’ Hannah said. ‘Mind you, I think they work off a script.’

‘Edinburgh’s a wonderful town. Full of history. So you don’t live in Cornwall? Noah does, I presume?’

‘He’s a freelancer and I’m from head office.’ Hannah explained their strange work setup, Audrey’s intense focus ensuring she spent more time staring into her drink than meeting her gaze. She was clearly a wonderful listener, but Hannah didn’t trust herself to speak casually about Noah any more. She was so aware of him all of a sudden; of the way her thoughts, and her body, had started responding to him.

‘And you’re going home on Saturday?’ Audrey asked gently, as if she could sense that Hannah felt conflicted about it.

‘We’ve finished the report,’ Hannah said, ‘so there’s nothing keeping me here. But I would have loved to be part of your investigation, and I just feel—’

She was distracted by the appearance of Noah, who stood for a moment in the doorway and then, spotting her, gave a brief wave and came to join them. He sat next to Hannah, his hand going immediately to the dog’s soft fur.

‘Hi, Audrey,’ he said.

‘Hello, Noah.’

‘All OK?’ Hannah asked. ‘Sorted for staying here tonight?’

‘Yup. I had to reassure Mum and Dad that I was fine, can you believe?’ He ran a hand through his thick, dark curls and a droplet of water landed on Hannah’s cheek.

‘They must be pleased you’re staying here, rather than driving home in this,’ Hannah said. ‘I would have been worried if you hadn’t taken Daniel’s offer, and I’ve only known you a few days. Here, have a hot chocolate.’ She pushed one of the full mugs towards him, but he didn’t take it.

‘You would have been worried?’

‘Of course! I’d have been left to do all the costings for the report if anything happened to you, and I’m not sure that would please me or Daniel.’ She grinned at him.

‘Oh, like that, is it?’ His mock annoyance made Hannah’s pulse race.

‘Possibly,’ she said coyly. ‘But I would have worried about you, too. Not just the report. Now you’re safe and we get to spend the night here together, so it’s win-win.’ The words were out before she’d thought them through. She should have thought them through. The silence hung heavily over the table, Audrey seemingly content to let it stretch.

After several unbearable seconds, Hannah risked a look at Noah. She wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t deal with that level of intensity.

‘There’s lots to be grateful for, then,’ he said, his voice slightly rough. ‘Cheers.’ He held up his mug and, relieved, Hannah clinked hers gently against it. Audrey joined in with her wine glass, and the dog looked up from his cosy position between Hannah and Noah on the bench.

With the tension broken, Hannah settled back, getting comfortable. The storm, in all its terrible glory, had given her the chance to have one perfect night before she went home. She would drink up the ghosts and the atmosphere and being with Noah, and then she would feel less sad about leaving. In fact, she told herself, she would be fine about it. Just this one night, and then she’d get Cornwall and Noah out of her system and look forward to going home for Christmas.

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