and Charlie was clearing the empty tables on the upper deck when she looked up to find three burly, bearded men standing at the top of the stairs. ‘Room for some little ones?’ asked the tallest of the three.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Come and sit down, browse the menu and I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.’
Charlie watched as they took instrument cases off their shoulders and laid them carefully on an empty seat.
‘Have you come to perform on the beach?’ she asked. ‘I’m Charlie, I organized the food market, so …’
‘Charlie, hello! Hugh has told us so much about you.’ The man’s blue eyes shone out above his curly beard. ‘I’m Silas, this is Artem and that’s Ken. Along with Hugh we make up the Cornwall Cornflowers. We weren’t planning on playing, but we could always be persuaded.’
‘Oh, sorry – it’s just that you’ve got your instruments.’
‘Band rehearsal,’ Artem said. ‘We’re off to Hugh’s after this. We’re performing in the pub at the end of the month. One of the villagers has a big birthday, apparently. Hugh said we should come and sample your famous cream teas first.’
‘I’m so glad you’ve come,’ Charlie replied. ‘You don’t know which villager it is, do you? I’ve only been here a few months, so I’m still getting to know everyone.’
‘Someone called Myrtle,’ said Ken. ‘We’ve not met her, but she’s into the traditional folk songs, so Hugh’s arranged a party in the pub and we’re going to be the musical entertainment.’
‘It sounds wonderful. I’d love to hear you play sometime.’
‘Come to the party,’ Silas said. ‘I’m sure Myrtle will want the whole village there.’
‘I’ll see what Hugh thinks. Have a look at the menu and I’ll be back in a moment to take your order.’ Charlie left them to it. She wasn’t sure she’d be welcome at Myrtle’s birthday celebrations, though she wondered if, in time, the older woman could come to see Gertie and the food markets as one of the local traditions. The Kerrs were already planning their day around it, and it seemed that, despite what some of the more stalwart villagers might think, the Porthgolow food market was starting to put down roots.
The following Thursday, Charlie lay in bed watching light patterns dance on the ceiling, Marmite snoozing quietly on her feet. She had another morning in the bus and then she was spending the afternoon with Oliver, Juliette offering to cover for her while she took some time off.
They walked down the hill in bright sunshine, Charlie mesmerized by the glittering sea, so still and calm, the deep turquoise of Caribbean waters. She didn’t realize something was wrong until Juliette’s arm-tugging became painful.
‘What’s—’ she started, then her voice disappeared.
Down on the beach, next to where Gertie stood resplendent in the sun, was what looked like a load of cross-legged people, all as still as statues.
‘What the hell?’ she whispered. ‘Is this some kind of bizarre art installation? Are those sculptures?’
‘Not sculptures,’ Juliette said, ‘yogis.’
‘What?’ Charlie rubbed her eyes and looked again. Juliette was right. There were about twenty people sitting perfectly still, wearing leggings and vests or shorts and T-shirts, all facing out to sea. Beneath each person was a brightly coloured mat.
‘It’s a yoga class,’ Juliette said, picking up her pace. ‘I’ve never seen one in Porthgolow before. What’s going on?’
‘I have no idea,’ Charlie said, her pulse returning to normal when she realized it was two days until her next market so they wouldn’t get in the way of the food trucks. She realised that, in a short space of time, she had come to think of Porthgolow’s beach as hers – at least on a Saturday. She knew she shouldn’t be so possessive, but she couldn’t help it.
‘Let’s go and find out.’ Juliette grinned and Charlie followed her friend onto the sand.
They waited for a break in the class and introduced themselves to the instructor, who was called Belle and looked like a young Cindy Crawford. The class was called Yoga by the Sea, Belle told them, and it was a popular pursuit in other countries, but rarely happened in the UK due to the unpredictable climate. The current warm weather had made it possible.
‘How did you find out about Porthgolow?’ Juliette asked Belle, whose perfect figure was sculpted into a sea-blue leotard and fuchsia leggings. ‘I had no idea you were coming and I check for new yoga events in Cornwall all the time – especially close to here.’
‘Oh, my husband and I stayed up at Crystal Waters a few weeks ago. We got chatting to the owner about Porthgolow and yoga, and this seemed like the perfect spot to try it out.’
‘It is beautiful down here,’ Charlie said, trying not to react at the mention of Daniel. She hadn’t heard from him since the hot tub incident, almost two weeks ago now.
‘How long are you here for?’ Juliette asked.
‘Oh, for a week, all being well,’ Belle said.
Charlie’s stomach flipped unpleasantly. ‘A week? Here, on the beach?’
‘Sure,’ Belle said. ‘We can use one of the spaces in the hotel if the weather turns, but from the look of the forecast we’re going to be fine. The sea air makes a huge difference.’
‘Wow,’ Jules said. ‘Can I … I mean, I’m busy today, but could I come tomorrow?’ She looked like someone had just offered her a million pounds.
‘Sure, Juliette. I’d love to have you. What about you, Charlie?’
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to run the bus.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Belle laughed. ‘Don’t suppose you’re serving kale smoothies, are you?’
‘We’re not, I’m afraid,’ Charlie replied calmly. ‘We’re more full-fat hot chocolates and Cornish cream teas. But there will be a juice bar here on Saturday, when the market is on.’
‘Daniel mentioned something about that. It’s not noisy or anything, is it?’
Charlie stared at her incredulously. ‘It’s, uhm, a food market. With people and trucks and ice-cream vans. It’s pretty established now, so …’
Belle’s delicate nose wrinkled. ‘I’ll have a word with Daniel, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Lovely to meet you guys. So looking forward to welcoming you into the fold, Juliette.’
‘Me too,’ Jules said.
‘Into the fold?’ Charlie whispered as she unlocked the bus. ‘It sounds more like a cult than a yoga class. And what am I supposed to do? What was Daniel thinking, organizing this yoga week to clash with the food market?’
Juliette gave her a sympathetic look. ‘I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose. Maybe he just forgot – or wasn’t thinking?’
‘You’re
