The Seafront Tearoom Page 20

  36

  Friday, October 3

  Charlie took out the outfit that she was planning to wear to the centenary party: a black halter-neck dress, with bronze hoop earrings and brown suede boots. It was her tried-and-tested party outfit, and she was glad she’d brought it with her. This would be her last night with Euan, and she wanted to look and feel her best. Her excitement about seeing him again was tinged with the regret that the two of them couldn’t let things develop naturally, without the pressure of time and work commitments. Once she left, that would be it. She’d have the memories, but that would be all.

  She put the dress and shoes to one side so that she wouldn’t accidently pack them into her suitcase, then she dialed Jess’s number.

  “Hi, Jess.” She held the mobile between her ear and shoulder, folding the rest of her clothes up, ready for packing, at the same time. “Just to say I’ll be back in the office on Monday, as we agreed.”

  “Good. I have to say, I’m not sure how you’ve done it, but you seem to be on track for a strong issue of the magazine.”

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling a wave of relief at her boss’s words. She thought of Kat and Séraphine, and smiled. “I had a good team.”

  “You must have done.”

  “Are the cover designs through yet?”

  “Yes, already on your desk for checking. In terms of the internal layout, there’s still some content missing.”

  “I thought I’d write a piece myself—a feature telling the history of a particular tearoom, quite a special one. I think our readers will enjoy that context.”

  “Fine. Make sure it’s done by Tuesday. And, Charlie . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “No dillydallying on the motorway, eh? We’ve waited long enough.”

  Charlie hung up and tossed her phone on the bed. Work aside, with Pippa and Luke building bridges, and Luke having agreed to come back to the house, it was the right time for her to go home—or so she kept telling herself.

  She got up and started to pack away a few things from her dressing table. She paused for a moment and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The creases in her forehead had smoothed out, and there was a glow in her cheeks. Perhaps there was something to be said for sea air, she thought.

  Pippa stuck her head around the door of the spare bedroom.

  “Packing up already?” she asked.

  “Why, will you be sorry to see me go?”

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I will be sorry,” Pippa said, slouching against the doorframe. “In all seriousness, you’re not such a bad sister.”

  Charlie turned, waiting for the sarcastic smile, the sneering follow-up comment. Neither came.

  “Really,” Pippa said calmly.

  Charlie looked at her sister and realized things had changed. There was a peace between them now; they were no longer competing.

  “I’ve enjoyed being here,” Charlie said. “It’s been good to spend time with the kids. And with you. But it feels right to be leaving too, because I get the sense things are going to work out OK for you.”

  “You do?” Pippa said. There was uncertainly in her eyes.

  “It’s over to you and Luke from here, isn’t it.”

  “I’m nervous,” Pippa said, tilting her head. “Is that weird? Being nervous about the man I’m married to coming back to our house, back to our bedroom. Because we have to make it work this time, Charlie.”

  “You will.” Charlie put down her washbag and walked the few steps toward her sister. She put out her arms and welcomed her into a hug.

  Pippa laid her head gently on Charlie’s shoulder, and stayed like that for a moment. Charlie stroked her soft hair. Pippa spoke softly: “God, I really hope so.”

  37

  Saturday, October 4

  On Saturday evening, the night of the party, Kat approached the Seafront with a sense of anticipation. Her dad was at home with Leo, and she’d taken the opportunity to go all out—taking time over her makeup and putting on the dress that Séraphine had given her. She thought of her last conversation with Adam, and of how he would be there. It felt like a lifetime ago—she’d been so caught up in worrying about Jake and Leo—but now she found herself wondering what it would be like to see him again.

  “Hello there!” Séraphine called out. She was standing by the front door of the tearoom, her blond hair up in a ponytail.

  “Hi,” Kat replied, waving back.

  “Wow, look at you!” Séraphine said as they hugged hello.

  “Thanks,” Kat said. “Thought it was the perfect opportunity to wear this,” she said, pointing at the dress.

  “It looks fabulous,” Séraphine said with a smile.

  “Is it all clear?” Kat said, peeking over her friend’s shoulder and into the tearoom.

  “Yes. Letty’s out with her friend Sue, and we’ve got the place to ourselves, ready for setting up.”

  “Excellent,” Kat said.

  “Look,” Séraphine said, excitedly lifting a large box out of her bag and giving Kat a peek inside. “I made a Victoria sponge. A proper English cake. And some drop scones and tea cakes to go with it. What do you think?”

  “Smells incredible. You’ve done us proud.” Kat smiled. “I brought strawberry tarts too.”

  The interior of the Seafront Tearoom twinkled with white fairy lights strung up from the rafters and along the counter.

  “Hi, you two,” Euan said. He was tinkering with the stereo in the far corner of the room. “Just getting the music sorted. Charlie’s out the back putting some muffins in the oven. She’s gone into baking overdrive.”

  “That makes three of us,” Séraphine said.

  “What have you got there, Kat?” Euan was eyeing the large bag she was carrying.

  “Are you ready?” Kat said. She took the banner out of the bag, and unfurled it, holding one end as Séraphine held the other.

  In quilted blue, silver and red letters were the words:

  100 Years of the Seafront!

  On one side was an appliqué teacup, complete with a flower pattern, and on the other a slice of cake.

  “You made that?” Euan said. “That’s amazing.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Séraphine said.

  “Charlie,” Euan yelled. “Come and take a look at this!”

  Charlie popped her head out of the kitchen to see.

  “Wow!” she said, brushing flour off her forehead. “That’s stunning, Kat.”

  “I’m quite nerdy with quilting,” Kat said, embarrassed. “Any excuse.” She brought out the flowers and small vases that would go on the individual tables.

  At six o’clock, when the cake stands were filled, the plates piled high and all the decorations finished, Euan poured out Prosecco for Séraphine, Kat and Charlie.

  “Cheers,” Séraphine said. “A moment of calm.”

  “Enjoy it,” Charlie said. “It’s not going to last long.”

  “Finally!” Euan called out, looking over at the door to the tearoom. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  Kat turned to see Adam coming in, wearing a white shirt, with his car keys still in his hand. As their eyes met she felt a surge of adrenaline run through her.

  “There are two crates out the back that need shifting,” Euan said to his friend. “Could you give me a hand?”

  “Sure, I’ll be with you in a minute,” he replied, glancing at Kat.

  “Hi,” Kat said. “Let me guess: Dad taxi?”

  “Right first time. Zoe’s got her first slumber party tonight.”

  “I remember that,” Kat said to Adam. “It’s a rite of passage. Chatting till all hours, sneaking downstairs for midnight feasts. I bet she was excited.”

  “She was pretending not to be, but I could hear her on the phone in her room earlier, whooping and giggling.”
Adam smiled. He lit up when he was talking about his daughter, and Kat enjoyed seeing it. It was clear they were a real team—the way she hoped she and Leo would always be.

  “So you have the night off?” she asked.

  “Yes, I do. You?”

  “Me too, yes. My dad’s with Leo.”

  “Shame your dad couldn’t come himself.”

  “It is. He loves a party. But what can I say . . . He’s a saint,” Kat said.

  Euan walked over to where they were standing. “We haven’t got that long,” he said. “Come on.”

  “Sure, sorry.” Adam looked at Kat again. “Catch you later.”

  “See you then,” Kat said.

  As she laid the table with cakes, Adam’s laughter drifted over from the back room, where he was shifting crates with Euan. Charlie appeared beside her.

  “You look miles away,” Charlie said, over her shoulder.

  “Do I?” Kat said, returning to reality. “I suppose I was for a moment.”

  An hour later, a crowd of Letty’s friends and the Seafront regulars had gathered, and everyone had hidden themselves out of view at various places in the tearoom—Charlie, Séraphine and Kat were ducking behind the counter, while the men had taken the nook under the stairs.

  Kat rose her head a fraction and peered out through the window. She spotted Letty in the distance approaching the Seafront with her friend.

  “Everybody ready?” she said in a loud whisper. “She’s nearly here.”

  As Letty opened the front door, they all leaped out.

  “Surprise!” they shouted.

  Letty stood with her hand on her heart, her face pale, and looked up at the banner that Kat had made, tears coming to her eyes.

  “My gosh,” she said. “Is this all for me?”

  “Yes,” Euan said, stepping forward. “These three suggested that it was about time we celebrated.” He motioned to Kat, Charlie and Séraphine. “So everyone here has come together to say thank you.”

  “How wonderful. It looks beautiful. I’ll forgive you all for nearly giving me a heart attack.”

  A laugh went up from the crowd.

  Charlie passed her a glass of champagne. “Here you go, Letty. This should help ease the shock. Now come and join the party.”

  Over the course of the evening, friends milled around, chatting and eating the homemade cakes, exchanging memories of the tearoom over the years. Charlie and Letty had gone into the kitchen to fetch the next batch of muffins, and they took the opportunity to talk in the relative peace.

  “You three were so kind to arrange this,” Letty said to Charlie. “It’s been a fantastic evening.”

  “It was our pleasure,” Charlie said. “The Seafront is a very special place.”

  “You know, it’s the customers who make it that way,” Letty told her. “There are days when it feels as though I’ll never get through everything that needs doing, and the cakes come out flat, and I have a mountain of paperwork . . .” She shook her head. “But then there are days when people like you come in, and I know I have the very best job in the world.”

  “It’s good to be able to celebrate with you tonight,” Charlie said.

  “I didn’t see this one coming at all,” Letty laughed. “I felt quite overwhelmed when I came in. I’m not used to this kind of attention. But now, well, I’m having a very lovely evening.”

  “I’m glad. That was the plan.” Charlie smiled.

  “Before I forget, Charlie,” Letty said. “I know you’re back at work on Monday, and I wanted to talk to you about something before you go. You seemed interested in the scrapbook and the other things, and you mentioned you wanted to research a bit more. Do you want to borrow a few bits and pieces from our archives? By which I mean the folders of junk I’ve never got round to sorting through?” She smiled. “You could post them back when you’re finished?”

  “Sure,” Charlie said. “That would be great—if you’re certain you don’t mind? I was thinking of writing a piece based on them. Completely anonymous, and with your approval, obviously.”

  “Of course. I’m only pleased someone else is interested. If you find something you can use for your writing, then please go ahead.”

  “Thank you,” Charlie said.

  Letty wove her way through the crowd, went into the kitchen and returned with a red folder and small cardboard box. “I’m not sure if you’ll be able to piece it all together, but there’s some notes from customers over the years, that kind of thing. Recipes my grandparents used to use.”

  Charlie took them from her. “I’ll take good care of it,” she said.

  Kat,” Séraphine said, as they stood by the cake table, filling their plates with the sweet offerings. “Have you seen anyone since Jake?”

  “No, no one,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

  Séraphine lowered her voice to a whisper. “Because I think my boss might have a crush on you.”

  “Adam?” Kat could feel herself blushing.

  “Yes. I’m afraid I let it slip that you were single. Since you first came round, I’ve lost count of the times he’s said ‘Your friend Kat . . .’”

  “That’s sweet,” she said, a smile coming to her lips. She hoped that it wasn’t too obvious that her cheeks were burning up. “I mean sweet of you to say it. Adam’s lovely but I’m sure he doesn’t see me in that way.”

  Séraphine raised an eyebrow.

  “And I don’t see him like that either,” Kat added quickly.

  “You wouldn’t consider it?”

  “I don’t think so, no,” she fibbed. “All I’m interested in now is a bit of stability.” It was true—and yet Kat couldn’t deny that what Séraphine had said sent a tingle of excitement through her.

  “Oh well,” Séraphine said. “I can understand, I suppose. With everything that has been going on in your life. It seems a shame, though. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to at least get to know him better . . . ?” She gave an encouraging smile.

  Charlie approached them, and Kat quickly took hold of her arm. “Charlie, come and change the subject,” she said playfully.

  Charlie smiled, confused, glancing at both women, then opting to go along with Kat. “OK, if you really want a new topic of conversation, there is something I’ve been wanting to ask you two. What are you up to in a fortnight’s time?”

  Kat shrugged, relieved that Charlie was the center of attention now. “I don’t have any plans.”

  “Me neither,” Séraphine replied.

  “Well, how about a trip to London? My treat. I want to take you out to say thank you for all the hard work you put into the reviews.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Kat said, shaking her head. “We enjoyed it.”

  “I know . . . but I’d like to. Plus I’m not ready to say good-bye to the two of you yet. I’ll get your train tickets, and take us out somewhere lovely—all you need to do is come.”

  “I’d love to,” Séraphine said. “It sounds perfect.”

  Kat hesitated. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s very tempting, but things have been so crazy lately . . .”

  “Which is exactly why you could do with a break. Could your dad look after Leo for the day?” Charlie suggested. “You said how excited he was to be spending time with him again.”

  “I’ll ask him,” Kat said, with a smile. “Maybe we could work something out.”

  Charlie and Euan stood outside the Seafront, the night air crisp and cool, and the sky full of bright white stars. The music and the sounds of guests chatting drifted out of the café, but where they were standing felt hidden, as if no one would find them there.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” Euan said, taking Charlie’s hands in his.

  “Me too,” Charlie said. The wind swept a lock of hair into her eyes and Euan brushed it away. “But I think my boss
would have something to say about it if I extended my stay again. I’ve put off reality for long enough.”

  “It’s been great spending time with you,” Euan said, his voice husky and quiet.

  “Likewise. Thank you.”

  “You’re thanking me?” he said, with a slight smile on his lips.

  “Yes,” she blundered. “You showed me around, took me out.”

  “You make it sound as if I’m a tour guide,” he said, bringing his brows together, confused. “Charlie, I took you out because I like you. I thought that was obvious.”

  “It is. But . . . you know I’m going back to London. We’ll be miles away from each other.”

  “So you don’t even want to try?” Euan asked, subdued.

  “I don’t see how we could make this work,” she said. For a moment it felt better, taking control of the situation, cutting things off before she got hurt again.

  He let go of her hands. The closeness that they had nurtured over the past few days, the togetherness they’d built out of laughter and shared stories, started to disappear.

  “This is the end of the line, then. If that’s what you want,” he said.

  Her stomach tightened. This wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all. To have it be over. To never share another moment with Euan. But she didn’t know how to fix it, what solution to suggest. She nodded. “Yes, it is what I want. I think it’s easier if we just say good-bye, don’t you?”

  “Good-bye it is, then,” Euan said flatly. “I wish it wasn’t, but you’ve made yourself clear.” Reluctantly, he walked away.

  Charlie watched him go back into the party, and then turned toward the sea, covering her face with her hands. “You’re an idiot, Charlie,” she muttered to herself. She wished desperately that she could take back every word she’d just said.

  At a quarter to midnight, with the room still full of people, the lights and music cut out completely.

  “Oh no!” Kat heard Séraphine’s voice call out into the darkness.