Part 24 (1/2)

'Have you?' Loveday said. 'Hal's got Dairylea Dunkers.'

'What are they?' asked Freddie.

'I'm sure Hal will share them with you,' Loveday a.s.sured him.

Greer, who spent her life trying to keep Freddie away from preservatives, E numbers and unnecessary sugar, hurriedly changed the subject.

'Auntie Loveday, Uncle Mickey, Daddy and I all became friends on our first day at school, didn't we, Auntie Loveday?'

'Oh, we did,' laughed Loveday. 'I asked your mummy if she liked Abba. I don't think she knew who Abba were.'

Greer, hating being made fun of, said quickly, 'Yes I did.'

'Well, you did once you'd listened to my tapes.'

'What are tapes?' asked Hal.

'Things we had in the olden days ... before CDs,' chuckled Loveday. 'Now say goodbye to your sisters.'

'Bye-bye, Becca.' He reached into the pram and gave his sister a sloppy kiss. 'Bye-bye, Bea.' He leant in to kiss her too but got a smack from a chubby hand instead. 'Ow. Bea hit me.'

'She didn't mean to. Now, off you two boys go and look after each other. Be good and do what the teacher tells you.' Loveday kissed the face of her dear son and he kissed her back.

'I love you, Mummy.' He blinked a watery smile.

'I love you too. Now off you go, you little monkey.'

Greer knelt to look into Freddie's eyes. 'Be a good boy and don't forget I love you. I want to hear all about it tonight. Now give us a kiss.'

Freddie put his arms around Greer's neck and squeezed tight. 'I'll be good and you be good too, Mummy.'

'I will,' she said solemnly, 'I promise.'

Finally disentangled from their mothers, the two boys ran towards a gathering group of small children who were being summoned by a smiley female teacher called Miss Woods. 'Good morning, children. Wave goodbye to your mummys and daddys. We've got lots of lovely things to do today, so get in a nice line and follow me to the cla.s.sroom.'

Loveday and Greer watched as their precious boys disappeared into the familiar building.

'Where has the time gone? 'Twas only yesterday they were in nappies,' sighed Loveday.

'It was only yesterday since we were coming to school,' Greer said, wryly. She checked her watch. 'Got time for a coffee?'

'Yeah. Why not?'

The c.o.c.kle Cafe was situated just off the quay in a narrow back street. It had only been open since the start of the summer season, and had been very busy with the holidaying, trendy young parents who appreciated its organic menu.

As Loveday and Greer turned the corner towards the cafe, they struggled with the double buggy on the cobbles; it was c.u.mbersome and awkward to manoeuvre. Three women in their sixties were sitting outside, enjoying the September suns.h.i.+ne, an Ordnance Survey map spread out in front of them. They were clearly discussing their walking route for the day, but there seemed to be quite a vigorous exchange of views going on.

As Loveday and Greer drew nearer, the leader of the pack pulled her gla.s.ses onto her head, where they were anch.o.r.ed securely by a fierce perm. Seeming suddenly to make a decision, she barked at them, asking: 'Excuse me, are you local?'

Loveday reversed the buggy and yanked it onto the smoother pavement. She looked in the direction of women and said, 'Yes, more's the pity. The roads round here are very b.u.mpy.' She applied the buggy's brake and straightened up. 'Can I help you?'

The leader, Ena, outlined her ambitious plans. Her idea was to get a bus to Boscastle and the start of the Smuggler's Way, continue to Rough Tor and then finish at Looe, thirty-seven miles away. Her companions voiced their concerns about the length of the trek, wondering where they would stay if they didn't reach Looe.

'Well, it's a tricky walk,' Loveday agreed. 'And are you ladies familiar with using a compa.s.s? The way isn't marked too well.'

'My sense of direction is excellent. Never needed a compa.s.s,' preened Ena.

'It's going to be the Isle of Wight all over again,' one of her companions murmured, sotto voce, to the other.

'I heard that.' Ena turned back to Loveday. 'You see, I am a great fan of ancient neolithic monuments. I mean to see Rough Tor and push the legendary Logan Rock to see if it really does rock back and forth.' She jerked her head towards her companions. 'These two don't harbour the same love of the magic of Cornish landscape in their souls as I do.'

'Really,' said Loveday, somewhat bemused, but also already flatly disliking this woman. She turned away. 'Greer, would you order me a strong tea and the girls a juice each. I'll get us settled on the table over there.' She waved at a table as far away from Neolithic Woman as possible.

At this safe distance, Loveday unbuckled the harnesses of both Bea and Becca. The little girls struggled out of their confinement and into the freedom of the cobbled lane. A seagull was strutting in the gutter, c.o.c.king his beady-eyed gaze from left to right, searching for a snack. Bea and Becca toddled after him, laughing as he quickened his pace until, finally, he flew to the top of a lamppost where he opened his beak and laughed.

'Now little girls,' called Ena. 'Don't encourage the seagulls. They're dirty and spread disease.'

Loveday stopped folding Becca's anorak and said, 'I beg your pardon? What did you say?'

Ena was unabashed. 'I was just telling the little girls not to encourage the seagulls.'

'And what business is it of yours?' asked Loveday stonily, the sequence of broken nights with the girls and the emotional rush of Hal's first day at school combining to produce a spectacular red mist. Loveday gave vent. 'My girls live here. They understand seagulls and they know more about b.l.o.o.d.y Cornwall and its magic than you'll ever know.'

'Well, really.' Ena flared her nostrils and stood up, busying herself with folding her map and packing it into her canvas knapsack. She gave rapid instructions to her companions. 'Sylvie, it's your turn to pay the coffee bill. Babs, come with me. Let's wait for Sylvie on the quay.'

Greer came out of the shop. She was laden with a tray of teacups, teapot and juice cartons, and was just in time to see the three women scuttling off to the harbour and Loveday yelling, 'And, by the way, 'tisn't p.r.o.nounced Rough Tor, except by grockles like you. It's Row Tor. Row, to rhyme with cow.'

'Loveday!' Greer was horrified. 'Shus.h.!.+ What's happened?'

Loveday retold the story and had the grace to be embarra.s.sed. 'I don't know why I saw red. Tired, I suppose, but I get so fed up with these visitors thinkin' we'm got straw in our ears.'

Greer smiled. 'You get very Cornish when you're cross, don't you? Why don't you go home and get a nap? It'll do you the world of good.'

'I can't. I've got the girls.'

'Well, I'm their G.o.dmother, aren't I? And today I'm your fairy G.o.dmother too. Let me take them and we'll have a lovely day. You and I will meet up at the school to pick the boys up. What do you say?'

'Are you sure?' Loveday was feeling exhausted. 'That would be wonderful.'

Greer shrugged her shoulders. 'Well, now my little man's gone to school, I've got all the time in the world.'