The Seafront Tea Rooms Page 11

  ‘Is he still around?’

  ‘Very much so.’ Euan smiled cheekily. ‘Why, are you interested?’

  Charlie laughed. ‘I’m surprised I haven’t seen him in here, that’s all.’

  ‘He and Mum are separated. He doesn’t come here. Hasn’t for years.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ she said, sensing that she’d touched on a sensitive subject. She closed the scrapbook and rummaged in her handbag for her purse.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Euan reassured her. ‘I’ve never believed in having secrets – but Mum, well, she’s different in that way. You won’t find the personal side of the story in that scrapbook.’

  Charlie heard a hammering on the window and looked around to see Flo’s face, mouthing demands for her to come out.

  ‘I’d better be going.’

  ‘What was your name?’ Euan asked. ‘So I can tell my mum you dropped by.’

  ‘Charlotte – Charlie.’ She smiled. As she turned to leave, she found herself wondering if he might still be watching her.

  To: Kat

  From: Charlie

  Hi Kat,

  Please tell me you have some free time? The reviews you sent over are fantastic – you’re a natural. I knew you would be.

  The deadline is approaching so quickly and I need to have all the content ready soon, but things are still crazy over here. School runs. Glitter. Mud. I’m struggling to get anywhere further than the Seafront at the moment.

  Any chance you could get out and see some of the other tea rooms on our list? Maybe Séraphine could join you? We still have some room in the budget, so I’ll make it worth your while, I promise!

  Charlie x

  To: Charlie

  From: Kat

  Hey Charlie,

  Of course! It would be a pleasure. Call me when you get a minute and we can talk it through. I’ll have a word with Séraphine in the meantime.

  Kx

  18

  Wednesday 17 September

  ‘My mum painted these for me,’ Zoe said, pointing to two square canvases. One painting was of an elephant, the other of a little house, in yellow, pink and purple. ‘She used to paint all kinds of things. Mostly from her imagination.’

  ‘Ils sont très beaux,’ Séraphine said. She picked up the elephant canvas and took a closer look. ‘She’s chosen some lovely colours, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Oui – violet, rose et jaune…’ Zoe switched effortlessly between English and French as she spoke, describing the painting, not even seeming to notice when Séraphine spoke to her in her native language.

  ‘Where did your mother do her painting?’

  ‘She had a room, it was next to the stables – she said the light there was good. That’s what she’d say, but me and Dad both knew it was because she could see the horses from there. She was happiest when she was near them…’

  Zoe paused, and then continued.

  ‘Maman would paint when Dad was looking after me. Sometimes she’d go to that room after I’d gone to sleep. I could see from my bedroom that the light was still on in her window.’

  ‘Where did you find these paintings?’

  ‘In a box under my bed. I didn’t want to put them up when we got here. But maybe now…’ She glanced down and Séraphine thought for a moment that she might cry. Instead, she looked back up and nodded her head determinedly. ‘I think I’m ready.’

  ‘Right. Well, why don’t we do it then?’

  ‘OK,’ Zoe said, getting up. ‘Will you help me? Dad keeps the hammer under the sink.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  An hour later, the two pictures were up on Zoe’s wall, the little house hanging over her dressing table and the elephant by her bed. After their first conversation about Marianne, it had taken Séraphine aback how quickly Zoe’s attitude has changed. It was as if there was a reservoir of emotion that had been waiting for the right person to tap into it. The frostiness had disappeared and made way for warmth. Something had happened that she’d never imagined could – Zoe was opening up to her.

  ‘It’s quite babyish, isn’t it?’ Zoe said, touching the painted elephant’s trunk. ‘But I don’t care.’

  ‘I think it looks lovely,’ Séraphine said, straightening it slightly.

  ‘I was smaller when she painted it.’

  Zoe sat back on her bed, and pulled one of the purple satin cushions on to her lap.

  ‘Do you enjoy painting?’ Séraphine asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Zoe shrugged. ‘I’m not very good though.’

  ‘I bet you are. Did you see that there’s one space left?’ She pointed to a blank area of wall by the door.

  ‘Do you think I should paint something?’

  ‘Yes. You’ve got some paints, haven’t you?’

  Zoe nodded.

  ‘Paint anything you’d like.’

  ‘I want to do a picture of my mum. How I remember her.’

  19

  Thursday 18 September

  At eight in the morning, the sky lightening to a grey-blue, the South Bay was quiet. The shutters on the shops and restaurants were down, and the only sound was the gulls overhead.

  Charlie needed a run to clear her head. How Pippa did it, she had no idea; the last few days had left her completely exhausted. Back in London she would put her iPod in and jog by the canal before work, dance music prepping her for the day ahead. She hadn’t wanted to run with music today, though. Up here, away from the city, it was quieter. She didn’t want to block out the world and create a bubble, as she usually did.

  Thud, thud, thud – it felt good to hear her feet on the tarmac, the sound of her efforts. After a few hundred metres, her skin grew warm.

  Thud, thud, thud

  Sweat began to trickle down her back, but with each step she took, calm returned.

  Thud, thud —

  BAM.

  Charlie’s body buckled.

  Something had knocked the backs of her knees sharply, pushing her legs out from under her and knocking her hard on to her lycra-clad side. She grazed her elbows as she hit the floor.

  ‘HEY,’ she called out, shocked, her elbows and hip stinging and sore.

  She looked around, dazed, and was met by a furry muzzle and a pink tongue licking her shoulder.

  ‘Wha —’ she began, pushing the animal away.

  ‘Bagel! Bagel! Get off her!’ Euan grabbed the dog by its collar. ‘Charlie, I’m so sorry, are you OK?’ He helped her to her feet.

  Her shorts had a rip at the side, and there was grit in the scratches on her elbow and thigh. ‘Just about.’

  ‘Thank God,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Then, turning to the dog: ‘Sit, Bagel. SIT.’ Reluctantly, the dog sat down, its tongue still lolling.

  ‘What happened?’ She leaned against the sea wall, trying to get her breath back.

  ‘He ran into you. I’ve only had him a week and I haven’t quite worked out this extendable lead yet. Well, I’ve worked out how to extend it, but not how to… Again, I’m so sorry.’

  Charlie looked at the dog suspiciously.

  ‘He’s on probation,’ Euan explained. ‘He’s a rescue. My friend Adam is a vet and took him in. I’m up for a challenge, but I have to say I’m wondering whether I’ve bitten off more than I can chew this time. So to speak.’

  The dog whined and tilted its head.

  Charlie crouched to the dog’s level. ‘Can we start over?’ she asked. Bagel raised a muddy paw and she shook it.

  ‘OK,’ she continued. ‘He’s forgiven. But you? You might have to work a bit harder. How do you intend to make it up to me?’

  Charlie and Euan were sitting outside Rosa’s, a coffee shop by the pier, with croissants and two cappuccinos. Bagel was barking at seagulls nearby, his lead held tightly by Euan. The seafront was slowly starting to wake, with one or two people emerging from their houses, and in the distance Charlie could see the lights go on in Letty’s tea rooms.

  ‘It’s good you get time to run – are your childre
n at home this morning?’ Euan asked.

  ‘No. I mean, yes, they’re at home – but no, they’re not mine.’ She smiled. ‘They’re my sister’s kids.’

  ‘Oh, right, I see.’ His face relaxed and he smiled. ‘I just assumed.’

  ‘I’m the super-auntie.’ She laughed. ‘Or something like that. They’re been keeping me pretty busy. There’s Flo – she’s the eldest, then Jacob, and finally the new baby, Gracie.’

  ‘A new baby, that’s lovely. Is that what brought you up here?’

  ‘Yes – or at least it was… It’s a long story.’

  He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head.

  ‘I won’t ask,’ he said.

  ‘It’s a lot to explain, but suffice to say my sister needs a hand at the moment.’

  ‘So did you get time off work to come here?’ Euan asked, breaking off a bit of croissant.

  ‘I’m actually still working – kind of.’ She smiled. ‘I persuaded my boss I could do my research here. I write food and drink reviews, and I’m editing the next magazine, which has a section dedicated to tea rooms.’

  ‘Cool job,’ said Euan. ‘Now I understand why you were so interested in Mum’s tea rooms.’

  ‘Exactly. Although Kat’s persuaded me to leave them out of the feature. She thinks some things are best kept a secret, and I’m starting to understand what she means.’

  ‘Yes. I’m not sure how Mum would cope with a flood of gastronomic enthusiasts quizzing her about her scones. She’s happiest when she has time to chat to the regulars. I tried to talk her into building a website last year, but she just laughed and said why try to fix something that’s not broken.’

  ‘It’s true. What she does, she does well.’

  ‘I know. I leave her to it these days,’ Euan said.

  Euan smiled at Charlie, and she felt her shoulders, hunched from the stress of the past few days, start to soften. There was something about him that put her at ease. They were silent for a moment.

  ‘Do you enjoy the reviewing?’ Euan asked, gently. ‘It sounds a dream job.’

  ‘Oh yes. I love it. I’ve always been obsessed with food, so getting paid to try out other people’s cooking works for me.’

  ‘You must get a lot of perks.’

  Charlie nodded. ‘I get invites to new restaurant openings in London, pop-ups on rooftop terraces, boat parties, that kind of thing, and I’m working my way up to…’ Charlie paused, suddenly aware that she was reeling off a spiel that sounded hollow.

  ‘What is it?’ he said.

  She laughed wryly. ‘I’m not going to lie, it’s the same as any job. It has its great points, but a lot of the time I’m commuting, answering emails at midnight and stuck in pointless meetings when I want to be writing.’

  ‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Euan said.

  ‘What is it you do?’

  ‘I’m an architect. See the cinema?’ He pointed to the building on the corner nearest to them. ‘We’re turning part of it into a restaurant.’

  ‘It’s a fabulous building. Art Deco, right? You’re not going to knock it down, are you?’

  ‘No, definitely not. It’s a conversion – we’ll be retaining the period features, but enabling the space to work in a very different way.’

  ‘I like the sound of that. I’ll have to come back and see it when it’s done.’

  ‘Should be finished by the summer, hopefully, although the buyers want it yesterday. I enjoy the planning stage, but negotiating with them is the part of my job that reminds me it’s work.’

  ‘How do you find time to help out at the tea rooms?’

  ‘I make time, when I can. I’d rather work late once in a while, if that’s what it takes. Although, to be fair, often I’m just enjoying the scones along with the rest of you, so it’s not all hard graft.’

  ‘It must be nice for Letty, having you nearby,’ Charlie said. She thought briefly of her own parents and how rarely she saw them these days. It was easier that way, of course – not to have to deal with her mother’s questions and her dad’s unpredictable outbursts, but she was also dimly aware that one day they wouldn’t be there, and that then she might feel differently about it all.

  ‘I think it is, especially since she and my dad separated,’ Euan said. ‘She’s always given me space to do my own thing, but as it turned out I chose to stick around in Scarborough.’

  ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘Do your parents live in London?’ Euan asked.

  ‘No. They live in Bristol, where Pippa and I grew up. We’re scattered all over the country these days.’

  ‘What are your family like?’

  Charlie bit the inside of her lip, wondering where to start. ‘My mum is lovely. She’s kind of an old-fashioned mum, runs around after all of us, cooking and organising. Dad and Pippa are pretty high-maintenance. We’re very different people.’ She paused, then smiled. ‘That, or we’re the exactly the same and I’m in denial about it.’

  Euan was listening to her calmly, an empty coffee cup in front of him. In a grey hoodie and T-shirt, his hair ruffled, he looked completely relaxed. She was aware of her torn lycra running gear, and the fact that her hair, coming loose from a ponytail, was a mess. This wasn’t something she did – sitting with a man she barely knew, still sweaty from a run, talking about her family. Saying things she’d never said to anyone other than Sarah.

  Unsettled, she switched the focus back to him.

  ‘I bet you had a great childhood, growing up here.’

  ‘It was good, lots of time outdoors. Mum’s a magpie and she used to drive Dad mad collecting things. When I was young she brought home a broken old rowing boat, complete with oars, and set it up in the garden for me. I loved it – Adam was always round, playing in it with me. We’d pretend we were sailing out to a secret island, like in Swallows and Amazons.’

  ‘That must’ve been fun.’

  ‘It was. I had friends round a lot. I think Mum and Dad were worried about me turning out weird, being an only child. But I reckon I turned out all right.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘At least, I hope I did.’

  ‘You seem relatively normal.’ Charlie smiled. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure having a sibling makes you any saner. Probably the opposite.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Speaking of siblings, mine will be wondering where I’ve got to,’ she said. ‘I told Pippa I wouldn’t be long.’ Charlie tipped her croissant crumbs on to the floor next to Bagel, and he snuffled them up quickly.

  ‘Sure, of course,’ Euan said.

  As he asked for the bill, Charlie wondered if she’d said too much. When she’d been with Ben, they hadn’t ever talked about family – it was something they had both chosen to overlook, preferring to focus on going out, enjoying every high-octane, indulgent moment in the city’s bars and clubs when work was done. Yet here she was, opening up to someone she had only just met.

  ‘Thanks for being so understanding about this terror.’ He pointed at Bagel.

  ‘It’s fine. As long as he’s learned his lesson.’ Charlie stroked the dog’s ears. ‘Behave yourself,’ she said to Bagel. ‘He can still give you back, you know.’

  She got to her feet. ‘Thanks for the coffee,’ she said.

  ‘It was good talking to you,’ Euan said. ‘See you again, I hope.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Charlie, secretly hoping the same. ‘That would be nice.’

  20

  Thursday 18 September

  Kat spread an ordnance survey map out on the tea room counter.

  ‘Over here in Whitby there’s a lovely place run by an old friend of mine,’ Letty said, tapping her finger on the map. ‘The Alexandra Tea Rooms. You should give that a visit. And then up here’ – Letty’s finger moved up a centimetre to the port – ‘you’ll find the loveliest little tea shop. The Hideaway, I think it’s called. Doesn’t look much from the outside – and I haven’t been there for a decade – but I seem to remember they do the most delectable strawberry tarts.’

  �
�Sounds perfect,’ Kat said, marking the spot with a Post-it.

  ‘I’m rather envious. You and Séraphine are going to have a wonderful trip.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘It seems to suit you, this work,’ Letty said. ‘I haven’t seen you this excited in a long time.’

  ‘I have been enjoying using my brain again, as well as my taste buds.’ Kat smiled.

  ‘You were always cut out for great things, Kat.’

  ‘Thanks. I feel a little out of my depth, to be honest – but Charlie seemed happy with the reviews I’ve written up till now, so hopefully I’m on the right track.’

  ‘I’m sure you are,’ Letty said. ‘You’ve always had a knack for writing.’

  ‘When I sat down, the words simply flowed,’ Kat said. ‘I didn’t think it would come so easily to me. You know how it is when you’ve got a young child – the last few years I’ve struggled to find time to read a grown-up book, let alone do any writing. But once I got started, it was as if something clicked in my mind and the cogs starting whirring again. Perhaps those years at uni weren’t wasted after all.’

  ‘Of course they weren’t,’ Letty said. ‘You’ll find the right job for you. And as long as it involves tea, I’m sure you’ll be happy.’

  ‘You know me too well.’

  ‘Talking of tea – I’ve christened the lovebirds Lady and Earl Grey. What do you think?’

  ‘Perfect!’

  ‘They’re settling in rather nicely. Not quite as sophisticated as the names make them sound. They’re more than happy to watch Corrie.’ She smiled. ‘They’re nice to have a chat to though, when I’m making my dinner. They fly around and then rest up on the rafters – always together.’

  ‘How sweet.’

  ‘Yes. They’re very romantic, a real team, won’t be separated.’

  A thought came to Kat. The tea rooms were quiet, and now seemed a good time to ask Letty something she’d been wondering about. ‘I don’t suppose anything’s changed – with John. The two of you still aren’t talking?’