The Little Cornish Kitchen: A heartwarming and funny romance set in Cornwall. Jane Linfoot
guy-type of a way. Which kind of suggests he’d fit in very well with a proper ‘Waitrose’ woman. ‘Anything I can help with?’
I send him my most ironic beam. ‘Seriously, I doubt it. Not unless you can explain why an entire sodding freezer full of sodding sorbet is sloppy when it should be frozen?’
He looks like he’s holding back one of those cough-laughs of his. ‘I think you just answered your own question there.’
‘Well thanks a lot, that’s really helpful.’ As I look at his superior sneer something inside me snaps. I don’t even care that I’m shouting. ‘I’ve got no effing idea when the hell I’m doing here. All I know is in a couple of hours a whole load of people are going to descend on me expecting to eat sorbet, and this far all I’ve got to offer them is smoothies. So, unless you’ve got something useful to say, cut the jokes please.’
His lips are twitching. ‘Hang on, there’s no need for a full-scale melt down.’ His smirk’s gone now. ‘What I meant is, if you put a massive amount of food into a freezer it’ll take longer to freeze than a small amount, that’s all. It’s the laws of physics.’
Physics? ‘Still not helpful.’
‘But maybe I can help. I do have an industrial size freezer next door. That should chill your sorbets to perfection in no time.’
‘What?’ Now I am listening. Somehow it’s no surprise he’s got this kind of kit. A freezer like that could save me here, but before I get my hopes up I need to check that it’s not just more bullshit. ‘Just a minute. How did you get one of those up the stairs? Or even fit it into the flat?’
He’s back to looking super pleased with himself without actually smiling. ‘My flat’s a lot bigger than yours. And the builders craned the fridges in when they were doing the balcony work.’ He pauses for a second. ‘It’s got a fast freeze option.’
I feel like my fairy godmother’s flying over the area. ‘Really?’ This time I don’t bother hiding my enthusiasm.
‘It’s a shame you weren’t here, or we could have craned a new one in for you too.’
Oh my days. ‘I’m not sure I’ve actually got the room.’ The man is so out of touch. If I’m having to flog sorbets to pay for roof work, I’m damn sure I can’t afford super-sized fridges. What’s worse, when I look around for a space to put anything tall, the kitchen suddenly feels minute rather than cosy.
‘So …’ He’s staring at me expectantly. ‘What are we waiting for?’
Plum sends me a ‘WTF?’ grin as she slides some trays out from the gap beside the dresser. ‘Best not waste valuable chilling time.’
I know I secretly vowed never to set foot next door, or talk to the neighbour, let alone accept favours from him. But sometimes a situation is so desperate you can’t hold on to your principles. And this is one of those times.
In the flat next door
Fur balls and shaggy rugs
Monday afternoon
‘There you go. I can pretty much promise your sorbets will be ready by the time your friends get here.’ Charlie swings the giant freezer door closed. ‘Don’t forget to come for them in good time. They’ll need twenty minutes to soften up again before serving.’
When he implied his freezer was enormous he was seriously understating. As for his flat, it seems like the top floor of Seaspray Cottage has been divided into ‘minute’ and ‘effing enormous’. And no prizes for guessing which half he’s got. Or how the whole beautiful backdrop of perfection only makes him look ten times more magazine-ready than he does anyway.
The space I’m staring round at is humungous, and there’s so much wall to wall white and natural wool and hewn wood I’m guessing he’s used the same super-expensive decorators as Nate and Sophie. Although the flashes of stainless steel and hi-gloss in his kitchen area are a masculine variation. Instead of being flat like Laura’s, the ceilings rise up to follow the roof line, and the roof lights punched through them let the sun flood in and outline spectacular rectangles of blue sky. It’s all a bit stark and startling for me, but Diesel has flopped in the centre of a massive grey rug almost as shaggy as he is, so at least someone’s relaxed into it.
‘So now your sorbets are in safe hands, how about a tour?’ Charlie looking pleased with himself is probably justified, although how he does that without the ear to ear grin the rest of us would use is anyone’s guess.
I try to force my face into a less bemused expression. ‘You mean there’s more?’ The room we’re standing in has to be at least the size of a football pitch. I’ve no idea why Diesel needs exercise when he lives here. A walk from one side of the kitchen living room to the other probably equals more steps than I do in a week. I shiver as I imagine Charlie and his wrecking ball approach to restoration obliterating the flat next door too. Realistically, compared to this it might provide him with enough space for a tie store.
He’s poised to go. ‘There are bedrooms, en suites, and acres more living area. I thought you’d be interested to see the different aspects?’
I’m feeling speechless enough as it is. More of the same and I might not recover. As for the way his ripped jeans are pulling across his thighs, there’s no way I can see where he sleeps and keep my thoughts clean. I can’t afford distractions like that when I need to focus on tonight’s very important job.
‘We’re good, thanks.’ I catch Plum’s scowl as her Converse collides with my heel and adjust my answer. ‘Some other time maybe … perhaps when Nell’s here?’ Hopefully that’ll satisfy Plum. Realistically, if Mr H makes Nell glow, when she sees his flat she’ll illuminate. Or maybe even explode entirely. I know I almost have.
As Plum wanders forwards, it’s obvious she’s going to make the most of her visit by exploring to the max, no holding back. When she reaches the hewn wood island unit her eyebrows shoot upwards. ‘Wow, look at these.’ She’s so far away by now I need binoculars to see what she’s talking about.
Charlie shakes his head. ‘You spotted my clutter. Everything’s supposed to be in cupboards, but somehow I can’t bear to put those little guys in the drawer.’
Plum’s yelling down the room at me. ‘Penguins, Clemmie, in a little line. Just like some others we know. How funny is that?’
Not at all, I’d say. ‘Very Josie Geller.’ That’s as much as I’m giving her.
Charlie’s eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. ‘Another Never Been Kissed fan?’
‘Shit.’
Plum recovers from the implications faster than I do. ‘You know that film too?’
He rolls his eyes to the roof window and a passing cloud. ‘Growing up with four sisters it goes with the territory. And let me guess, you can recite every line too?’
Worse and worse. Luckily, Plum’s under the spotlight for this one. ‘Too right.’
I know it. Any minute now we’ll be on to the final scene. Discussing that snog here would be beyond cringeworthy. I jump in. ‘So, remind me why the hell you want to buy the flat next door, when you’ve already got one this massive?’ As subject changes go, it’s a country mile away from anywhere I’d intended to go. But anything’s better than standing on Mr Hobson’s shag pile reliving Drew Barrymore getting her knickers pashed off to a Beach Boys soundtrack.
Charlie blinks, and curls up his toes as he considers. ‘I’m going to level with you here, Clemmie. Wanting to buy flat next door is less about the space, and more for the sake of completion. I’m very focused and hugely patient. However