Tapas, Carrot Cake and a Corpse (A Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Book 1) (2 page)

Charlotte screwed up her nose and stuck out her tongue with distaste.  “I wish I could agree with you.  You’d think after all these years that I’d be used to it by now, wouldn’t you?  Anyway, yes, I’d love a cup of tea – thanks.  I’ll just clean up first.”  She put the prepared fish into the fridge and washed her hands before taking two chairs out onto the terrace to sit and spend some time with Jess before they set up for the day, and the first customers arrived for breakfast.

As she waited, Charlotte thought how lucky she was to have Jess working with her and cast her mind back to how they’d forged their friendship all those years ago, and the tragedy that had made it even stronger. 

Childhood friends, Charlotte and Jess had lost touch after Charlotte’s family had immigrated to Spain, when a Spanish conglomerate had awarded a lucrative, five-year contract to the construction company at which her father worked. 

Scott Denver was one of the team of surveyors asked to make the move to Spain, being offered a generous relocation package as an incentive. 

Although the move was only ever supposed to be temporary, the family had fallen so much in love with Spain that when the contract had ended, they’d decided to stay.  On being offered a permanent job, Charlotte’s father had extended the rental period on the smart townhouse his firm had provided for them when they’d arrived in Spain and, in so doing, their new life had begun in earnest.

Charlotte had quickly become bi-lingual, sucking up the language like a sponge, and with her dark hair and light-brown eyes, she was often mistaken for a local when she was out and about, chattering away in fluent Spanish with her friends. 

At 22, she was having the time of her life.  After leaving university, she’d been offered a job in a small, friendly law firm as a translator for English-speaking clients.  The money wasn’t fantastic, but it was enough to enable her to move out of her parents’ home and rent a small apartment of her own close to the beach. 

Charlotte was moving forward, and things were looking up.

Until that day. 

On their way to Charlotte’s apartment one Saturday morning, her parents’ car had veered off the road into a deep ravine.  As a result of the extreme heat, there’d been a thunderstorm during the night, which the police confirmed had made the road extremely slippery after months of dry weather.  They’d told Charlotte that it appeared her father had lost control of the car coming out of a bend in the road, too much so to be able to correct it. 

She’d stumbled through the next few days in a state of confusion.  Garrett and Laura had flown out to be with her as soon as they’d heard the news, and stayed for two weeks.  When she’d decided that she couldn’t face staying in Spain without her parents, Charlotte had flown back to England with Garrett and Laura, taking her parents’ ashes with her. 

Arriving back in St. Eves, she’d moved in with her Godparents – she had nowhere else to stay, and even if she had, she didn’t want to be on her own. 

“You can stay here as long as you like, love,” Laura had said, giving her a big squeeze.  “Don’t be in a rush to go anywhere until you’re ready.”

One sunny Sunday afternoon, Charlotte had taken a deckchair and a book down to the beach.  She’d barely been out of the house since she’d arrived back, but it was such a beautiful day, she’d decided to take the plunge and brave the outside world.

Choosing a quiet spot, she’d set up her chair and settled down to a few chapters of Bill Bryson’s latest offering when a voice had called out.

“Charlotte?  Charlotte - is that you?”

Peering up from under the brim of her baseball cap, she saw a young woman with a ponytail of blonde, curly hair standing on the sand a few feet away from her, wearing huge sunglasses that obscured half her face.

“Yes,” Charlotte had answered cautiously.  “Who wants to know?”

The woman had taken off her sunglasses to reveal the greenest eyes Charlotte had ever seen.  At once, she’d known who the woman was.

“Jess? 
Oh,
Jess
!”

She’d jumped up from the chair and run to her friend, throwing her arms around her.  As they’d embraced, the emotion of the past few months had welled up and over-spilled, the tears running freely down her cheeks.

“How did you know I was here?” Charlotte had asked when they’d finally stepped apart.

“I saw Garrett and Laura in town and they told me you were on the beach, but I didn’t expect to find you so soon.  Oh, Charlotte, I’m so sorry about your parents – I really loved them,” Jess had said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, me too … it’s good to see you again, Jess – I’m glad you came looking for me.”

“How could I not?  We’re best friends, aren’t we?  Remember the pinky promise we made when you left?”

The memories came flooding back, and as Charlotte sat on the terrace outside the café, she thought back to when she was nine years old and the evening before she and her family had left for Spain.  She and Jess had linked their little fingers and, very seriously, shaken them up and down, reciting the old playground promise to “Make friends, make friends, never, ever break friends.”

They had resumed their friendship that very day on the beach and had fallen straight back into that comfortable easiness that comes with only the closest of friends.

When Charlotte had bought the café, Jess had been her only choice for a reliable and trustworthy second-in-command.  She was bubbly, personable and efficient, and the most loyal friend Charlotte could wish for – they made a great team.

Now, she smiled as Jess walked towards her, holding a steaming cup of tea and mug of coffee, and thought how happy she was to have Jess back in the fold.  Whilst she’d been away, Garrett’s nephew, Mike, had filled in for her, but as nice as he was, he just didn’t have the same rapport with the customers that Jess had.  

“So,” Jess set the drinks down on the table and pulled a chair up next to Charlotte, “d’you want to see the pictures of my gorgeous nephew’s christening first, or update me on what’s been happening here?”

“Oh, pictures first, definitely!”

For the next fifteen minutes, Charlotte ooohed and aaahed over countless pictures of baby Daniel’s christening.  He really was the most delightful little boy.

“Aaaww, he’s such a little cutie, Jess.  Y’know, you didn’t need to come back today – you could have spent a bit more time with your sister and stayed for the weekend.”

Jess shook her head frantically.  “No.  It was really lovely to see the family, but I was ready to come back.  It’s too quiet where they live, stuck in the middle of nowhere, and you know me, I love the hustle and bustle here, and that every day is different. 

“Apart from the christening, the most exciting thing that happened in my sister’s village last week was that the church clock stopped.  I’m not kidding when I tell you that was the main topic of conversation for two days … and anyway, there are only so many dirty nappies a girl can change before the novelty starts to wear off!”

Charlotte laughed and drained her teacup before filling Jess in on what she’d missed while she’d been away.  After ten minutes, she said, “Well, that’s about everything, I think, apart from the ‘Ladies Lunch Club’ this afternoon.”

“Oh, yes.  I’d forgotten about that.  Are we all prepared?” Jess asked.

“Yep, everything’s pretty much organised, I think, but the one thing we mustn’t forget to do is reserve a table for 2.00 pm for our three ladies … actually, there’ll be four ladies, because they’re meeting that new woman here, remember?  Y’know, the one who’s married to the guy who looks like Jack Nicholson?  Nice of them to treat her to lunch to welcome her to the community, don’t you think?  

“It’ll be nice to finally meet her – it’s been almost two weeks since they arrived, but I’ve only seen her once, and that was when she went speeding past on her bike, so I didn’t even get a chance to say hello.  Mind you, if I lived on a boat like theirs, I doubt that I’d want to leave it too often either.”

Jess nodded her head in agreement.  “I know what you mean – how the other half live, eh?”

Charlotte continued.  “So, as I was saying, we’re pretty much sorted.  There’s a bottle of pink champagne already chilling, so all that’s left for me to do is peel and de-vein the prawns for the tapas, and put a few aside to give the ladies when they arrive.  I’m going to give them a couple of sweet chilli prawns and a dish of olives each as an appetiser.  They can pick at those with a glass of champagne while they decide what they’re going to have for lunch.  Speaking of which, come and see the fish that Garrett gave me this morning.”

Jess followed Charlotte into the kitchen. 

“Aren’t they fab?  I was thinking of serving the sole on the bone as Sole Meuniere, and I’ve filleted the whiting to bake in paper parcels with olive oil, a little tarragon, capers and cherry tomatoes.  What d’you think?”  Charlotte asked her friend.

“Yum, they both sound delicious,” Jess smacked her lips in approval.

“Great!  That’s what I’ll do then.  OK, let’s get the tables and chairs set up, and then I can start on the tapas.”

They carried stacks of chairs and tables out onto the terrace and placed them quickly, before covering the tables with bright blue base cloths and crisp, blue and white checked tablecloths over the top.  A vase of yellow silk flowers was set upon each table (Charlotte would have much preferred fresh flowers, but they wilted so quickly in the heat), along with a menu, and they were ready for business.

She pulled back the folding glass doors, and immediately, the terrace became a seamless extension of the inside of the café.  The doors had cost a fortune, but as far as she was concerned, they’d been worth every penny.

Charlotte stepped back and appraised the view.  As the boats bobbed up and down on the gently rippling water, the sound of the glass and shell wind chimes that hung from so many of them provided a soothing soundtrack for the scenic vista. 

This was the perfect spot to sit and people-watch, or simply let the world go by, and not a day went by that Charlotte didn’t thank God for bringing her to it.  It had been her salvation.

Jess interrupted her thoughts.    “OK, I’ll write up the ‘Friday Fish Specials’ board – Sole Meuniere and Baked Whiting Fillet Parcels with tarragon, capers and cherry tomatoes – that’s what you said, isn’t it?”

“Yep, and for the tapas board, could you add Sweet Chilli Prawns, Buffalo Wing and Chickpea Stew and Tortilla, please.  I made the stew and the tortilla after we’d closed up yesterday afternoon.  Everyone goes so crazy for the tapas, some days I can’t make enough of them.”

“I know,” agreed Jess.  “It’s because nowhere else around here has them – people love the quirkiness of having little dishes of food with some fresh bread and a glass of wine or a beer.  I mean, how many people have said that the tapas here are as good as, if not better than, what they’ve had in Spain?  It was a brilliant idea of yours to put them on the menu.”

“Well, you know I wanted to bring something of Spain to the café, and with such great local produce, and the amazing fresh fish and shellfish we have right on our doorstep, they’re a great fit.  Right, I’d better go and get started on preparing the prawns, or they’ll never get done.”

The morning passed in a flurry of customers, old and new.  Tom, at 101 years of age, was the first to stop by, as he did every morning, for his breakfast of two poached eggs with smoked salmon on a toasted English muffin. 

He parked his mobility scooter, and Pippin took a drink from the water bowl outside the door before jumping onto the seat to have a snooze.  Accompanying Tom to the café was good exercise, but the little dog always looked forward to a nap when they arrived.

“Thank you, my dear.  That was delicious, as always,” said Tom, when he’d cleared his plate and licked the egg yolk from his knife. 

“You’re welcome.  It’s always a pleasure to cook for you,” Charlotte called out to him from the kitchen.  “I must say, those hanging baskets of yours are looking terrific,” she said, as Jess helped him on with his jacket.  “What’s your secret?”

“Oh, no secret my dear, just a lot of love and care.  Everything flourishes with love and care, don’t you think?”  He smiled his crooked smile and bid them goodbye before settling himself onto his mobility scooter and riding off down the marina front, Pippin running along behind him. 

“I hope I’m still going when I’m Tom’s age,” Jess commented as she cleared the table.  “He’s amazing, isn’t he?”

“I assume you must be talking about me?” Jess turned to see another regular, Leo Reeves, together with his friend and verbal sparring partner, Harry Jenkins, coming into the café.  They stopped by every morning for breakfast and their usual ‘put the world to rights’ discussion regarding the news of the day, during which - as always, at precisely 11 am - they ordered a single shot of rum, which they poured into their second cup of coffee. 

“Actually, I was talking about Tom,” Jess smiled welcomingly, “but I promise that when you’re 101 and still coming in for breakfast, I’ll talk about you just as favourably!  Now, will it be the usual two white coffees, or are you going to surprise me and order something different for the first time in seven years?”  She grinned at the two men mischievously. 

“Actually, as you ask, we
would
like something different today … we’d like two white coffees with a side order of a little less of your cheek, young lady,” Leo reproached her good-humouredly. 

Jess laughed.  She loved enjoying a joke with the customers.  “Coming right up!  You sitting outside today?  OK, I’ll bring your coffees out to you.”

A steady flow of breakfast orders kept Charlotte busy in the kitchen.  Whenever she could, she loved to get out and say hello to the customers, but this morning, it had been too busy for her to stop work. 

Just after 1.00 pm, she grabbed the opportunity to take a quick break, and went through into the café to sit down for five minutes.  She greeted a group of American surfers who were sitting at the corner table, enjoying a late brunch as they planned the rest of their day, and a young couple who were on their honeymoon and who had been in for breakfast and lunch every day since they’d arrived.