The Seafront Tearoom Read online

  “Must be the fuse box,” Charlie said from the other side of the room. “Can anyone see Letty?”

  “I can barely see anyone,” came a male voice.

  “I think she went out to the car park with a friend,” someone else said.

  Kat vaguely recalled a previous power cut, when she’d been in the Seafront with Letty. The fuse box was on the wall near the stairs up to Letty’s flat. “Don’t worry, I think I know how to fix it,” she said.

  “Here,” Adam said, passing her his phone, with the torch function on. “This should help.”

  They walked together through the crowded room to the back of the shop. Adam fumbled for the door handle, then opened it, leading Kat to the stairway up to Letty’s flat. The hallway there was also in darkness, save for the beam of light coming from the phone she was holding.

  She turned the torch to face the wall and found the fuse box, then struggled to open it with one hand still holding the light.

  “Here, let me,” Adam said. He leaned close to her and pulled the box open.

  She stood on tiptoes and peered inside.

  “Hurry up, will you!” came a call from the tearoom.

  “It must be one of these,” Kat muttered. She flicked one.

  “That one, I think,” Adam said. As he pointed to the switch, their faces were almost touching. Séraphine’s words rang through Kat’s mind. She was sure of it now. He felt something for her too.

  In the darkness, she could hear the sound of both of them breathing and was aware of the closeness of their bodies. She moved toward him and her mouth found his. They kissed, their hands joined, lips moving together naturally. Kat’s heart began to race. This felt so right.

  Then, in an instant, doubts cut in. She couldn’t let this happen, not now. There had been enough upheaval in her life, and she owed it to herself, and to Leo, not to introduce any more.

  She broke away from Adam, then located the switch Adam had previously pointed to and flicked it.

  The music started up again and the lights in the hallway flickered on.

  She saw his expression then, startled, confused at the way she’d distanced herself from him.

  “You were right,” she said quietly. “That was the one.”

  PART THREE

  Water is the mother of tea, a teapot its father, and fire the teacher.

  —CHINESE PROVERB

  38

  Monday, October 6

  “Here’s one that will fit you,” Kat said, passing a small white apron from the back of Letty’s kitchen door over to Zoe. She, Zoe, Letty and Séraphine were gathered in the kitchen at the Seafront for an evening baking session. Kat helped Zoe tie the straps behind her.

  “So, I wanted to show three of my favorite women how to make madeleines,” Séraphine said. She unpacked the ingredients onto the kitchen counter. “I managed to find some proper tins,” she said. “You can use muffin tins, but they come out much more prettily with these shell-shaped ones.”

  “Perfect,” Letty said, putting the oven on to heat. “Euan tells me his dog’s addicted to these. Seems an awful waste of good cake, if you ask me.”

  Séraphine and Zoe looked at each other and laughed.

  Kat was grateful that her dad had offered to babysit Leo again. Baking, and being with friends, was exactly what she needed at the moment. Her mind had been on Adam ever since the party. What had happened with Jake had obviously thrown her off course—why else would she have done something so foolish? Now she just wanted to forget about it.

  “OK, Zoe—do you think you could grate the rind of this lemon for us?” Séraphine asked the question in French, and Zoe took the lemon from her and got to work.

  Letty raised her eyebrows at Séraphine and Kat discreetly, to show she was impressed, and Séraphine smiled proudly.

  They worked together in the kitchen, preparing the madeleines, and then when they were in the oven cooking, sat down on the kitchen stools.

  “Baking’s kind of cool, actually,” Zoe said, watching the cakes rise in the oven. “I wouldn’t mind learning how to make a few more things.”

  “You should come to my village one day,” Séraphine said. “There’s a fantastic patisserie course that runs in the summer—you could take it.”

  “Sounds fun,” Zoe said, with a smile.

  Kat imagined it—the pleasure of a holiday in France with nothing to do but bake and learn and taste. It sounded like complete heaven. But it was another world, that kind of thing. For someone else, not for her.

  “I might join you,” Letty said. “I’ve always dreamed of doing something like that.”

  Kat nodded in encouragement. “You should go,” she said.

  “You should, Letty,” Zoe said. “You’re not that old.”

  “Zoe!” Séraphine exclaimed, tapping her on the arm.

  “What?” Zoe retorted.

  Letty laughed. “Don’t worry, Zoe. And well, perhaps you’ve got a point.”

  Kat collected her things together at the end of the evening, and pulled on her coat.

  “Here,” Séraphine said, passing her a silver card box filled with the cakes she’d made. “Don’t forget these!”

  “Thanks,” Kat said, shaking her head. “How silly of me.”

  “Are you OK, Kat?” Séraphine asked her quietly. “It seems like you’ve got something on your mind.”

  “It’s nothing,” Kat said.

  “The same nothing that got Adam stirring salt into my tea this morning?” Séraphine asked.

  Kat smiled. “The very same one.”

  39

  Tuesday, October 7

  Charlie breezed past Ben’s desk and settled down on her swivel chair with a cup of hot coffee. She’d caught a glimpse of him and looked away quickly. It was only her second day back at the office, and work was what she was going to focus on; there was no time for distractions.

  She switched on her computer. She noted, as she had the day before, how everything on her desk was exactly as she’d left it—down to the Post-its with scribbled one-word notes that framed her monitor. It was as if she’d never been away.

  On Sunday night, she’d gotten back to her flat late and had a bath before settling into bed. She’d expected to feel good about being home, being in her own space again, with no complications—but instead the flat had felt empty and cold—her neglected plants were the only ones who’d missed her. As she’d lain in bed in her Egyptian cotton sheets, she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that no one aside from her boss would have cared if she hadn’t come back. The temptation to call Euan, to tell him that she hadn’t been honest with him, almost overwhelmed her. She’d switched off her phone—something she never did—and put it away in her handbag.

  “It really is good to have you back, Charlie,” Jess said, coming over and perching on the edge of her desk.

  “Thanks. It’s good to be back.” She smiled but the words didn’t ring true. In the gray office with its familiar frosted glass–dividing walls and her colleagues hurrying by in suits, she felt adrift.

  She missed the calmness of the seafront, Letty’s scones, talking to her friends—and the warmth of Euan’s arms.

  “The content’s looking great, by the way,” Jess said. “You’ve pulled it off. Listen—I’m late for a meeting. Let’s catch up later.”

  The feature Charlie was planning to write—a late addition to the November issue—began to take shape in her mind. It would be an anonymous insight into what the Seafront had seen through the century, the history of a secret tearoom. She wished she’d had time to look through the box that Letty had given her—but the deadline was too tight. She’d just have to work with what she’d already found out.

  She put her notes to one side and started to type.

  In the Second World War, Scarborough experienced tragedies, including a raid on t
he town. During those difficult times, the community rallied together and the traditional tearoom was converted into an RAF training center. The tables were pulled back and the trainees were fueled with Julia Brown’s vanilla sponge cake . . .

  She sent the article over to Jess at lunchtime. Changing Letty’s name, she’d written the story of the tearoom through the sixties and seventies, how Letty and John had overcome everything from financial hardships to vandalism and managed to keep the place going. She hoped that she’d done the complex story of the tearoom justice.

  She opened her ready-made salad. The sugar-snap peas and cherry tomatoes tasted bland and disappointing after the cakes she’d just been revisiting in her mind.

  Her desk phone rang with an internal call, and she picked up.

  “Charlie, it’s Louis.” The managing director’s voice was brisk and businesslike, as usual. “Have you got a minute?”

  “Sure,” Charlie said, straightening in her seat. You didn’t tell the managing director you were having lunch, did you? “Your office?”

  “Yep. Thanks.”

  She got up, checking her outfit was uncreased, and made her way to Louis’s corner office. He was bent over his laptop with his reading glasses on, draft cover printouts of the Secret Tearoom edition of the magazine cluttering his desk.

  He glanced up and smiled when she knocked on the door.

  “Hi, Charlie. Take a seat.”

  She sat in the chair facing him, the large windows giving a clear view out over the Thames. The Millennium Bridge had a steady stream of pedestrians passing over it, tiny specks with colorful umbrellas to shield them against the heavy rain. She wondered if it was raining in Scarborough too.

  “I wanted to update you,” Louis said, his eyes bright. “We’re all delighted with how this edition’s shaping up—and how the orders are looking. You’ve done a great job.”

  Charlie smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be honest—I’m impressed. Despite the fact you weren’t here in the office for meetings—which I wasn’t too happy about at first—you’ve come up with a sharp concept, and delivered the kind of enjoyable and honest content that readers expect from Indulge. You’ve found fresh new writers, and brought them on board. Qualities that make you a very strong editor. As you know, Jess is leaving. I see no need to look outside the company for a replacement.”

  Charlie’s chest was tight. This was it. The news she’d been waiting and hoping for the last few months. This was what she’d been working toward ever since she started work at the magazine.

  “How would you feel about being editor? It’s a promotion we all believe you’re ready for. Over the last eight years you’ve built up your skills here at Indulge, and proven yourself time and again. On a personal level, I’ve always enjoyed working with you. I’m very much hoping you’ll say yes.”

  Charlie smiled and bit her lip, excited. Editor! She’d done it. With Kat and Séraphine’s help—she’d done it.

  “Yes,” she said, her enthusiasm bubbling out.

  “Well, that’s agreed, then,” said Louis, reaching out to shake her hand. “I’m thrilled.”

  “Thank you, Louis. I look forward to getting started.”

  She walked back to her desk in a daze, unable to keep the smile from her face. The magazine would be hers to run; she’d have free rein with ideas and be able to build up her own stable of writers. She’d be involved in the business side, building sales. Instead of following someone else’s orders, she’d be the one calling the shots.

  The journey to this point had started years ago, but she knew she would never have made it through the final stage alone. Kat and Séraphine had supported her when she needed it most—practically and emotionally. Back at her desk, she clicked the icon to compose a new e-mail message.

  To: Séraphine and Kat

  Hi you two,

  I just got the most exciting news. I’ve been made editor of Indulge! I can’t quite believe it. I owe you both a huge THANK YOU. I simply could not have done this without you. Your research, ideas and writing were a huge part of what sealed the deal.

  Looking forward to celebrating with you when you come to London.

  Thanks again,

  Charlie x

  She pressed Send, and sat back in her seat.

  There was one more person she wanted to tell. If they were still together, she knew Euan would have shared her excitement. She could picture his face, the warm smile crinkling his eyes, his delight at her achieving something she’d been working toward for so long. What she wanted now, more than anything, was to be with him, to celebrate together.

  “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  Charlie looked up on hearing the familiar voice—husky with the trace of a London accent. There he was—the same tanned skin and dark hair, easy confidence and dressed-down look. The man she’d once imagined spending her future with, only for him to leave her brokenhearted.

  “Ben,” she said. She’d played out this moment in her mind a dozen times. When she was up in Scarborough, feeling confident and strong, she’d thought through what she would say when she came back to the office and saw him again. The cool reaction, the witty, sarcastic put-downs. But now he was here, leaning over the divider on her desk into Charlie’s workspace, so close they were almost touching—her heart raced. She felt small, as she had in the days after she heard the news that he had cheated on her. Her smart, considered reactions deserted her.

  “Editor, eh.” He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “Well done, Charlie.”

  “Thanks,” she answered, grateful that it had come out sounding controlled and calm, even though that wasn’t at all how she felt.

  “Seriously, Charlie. You deserve it.”

  The words were there, just out of reach. Yes, I do deserve it. And it has sod all to do with you. I’ve managed this in spite of you. You’ve got no right to be here, trying to share my success.

  “Thanks,” she said again.

  “How was the time off?” he asked brightly. “Jess said something about your sister. Everything OK with Pippa?”

  The familiarity in his tone grated on her—he had no right to ask about her life. He’d lost that when they broke up. He wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t anything to her now. The way he made her feel, the way he’d always made her feel, was the opposite of how she’d felt with Euan. She wished Ben would just disappear.

  “It was fine,” she said. “Pippa’s fine.”

  “Great, glad to hear it.” He straightened. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Charlie. You look much better—the break must have done you good.”

  40

  Wednesday, October 8

  “A letter,” Leo said, running to the mat that the small package had just plopped down onto. He picked it up and passed it to Kat. It was addressed to the two of them. “It might be a present for us.” She smiled. Since her dad had come back from his travels, letters with handwriting on the front were few and far between, and she was curious about who this one might be from.

  “Open it, open it!” Leo said, hopping up and down on the spot.

  “OK, hold your horses,” she said, ruffling his hair. She still hadn’t quite gotten used to having him around again—she loved it so much that she even forgave him the six o’clock in the morning bouncing on the end of her bed. With him there, her flat was a home again.

  “What horses?” He screwed up his eyes, confused.

  “It means wait a minute, hold up, be patient.” She laughed, ripping open the envelope, full of curiosity. “All those things you never do.”

  “What is it?”

  “Let’s see.” Inside the package was a smaller envelope holding two tickets. She pulled them out and smiled broadly when she saw what it was—entry to the Sealife Centre. Who would have sent her these? Her puzzlement turned to delight. It must have been Jake, trying t
o make amends. Leo would be thrilled.

  She scanned the letter. Apparently admission to the Sealife Centre wasn’t the only treat in store. They were both invited to a VIP meeting with dolphins.

  She looked at Leo, his brown eyes dancing with excitement. “Mum! Tell me.”

  “It’s a surprise,” Kat said. “You’ll have to wait until the weekend to find out.”

  That afternoon, Kat and Leo walked around Morrisons, and Kat took groceries off the shelves and loaded them into the trolley in a daze. Packets of oats and multipacks of juice. She sifted through the vouchers in her wallet to make sure she would be able to make use of some of them.

  She’d make the phone call when she got home. She wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed by Jake’s gesture—of course not. Leo’s welfare was too important for that. But the thought behind it, the fact that Jake had taken the trouble to find out what Leo dreamed of doing, and had saved to be able to provide it—that meant something, didn’t it?

  Back at the flat, Leo played on his xylophone and Kat took her phone into the kitchen, pressing Speed Dial 1.

  “Hi, Jake.”

  “Hi there,” he said, sounding pleased to hear from her. “Everything OK?”

  “Yes.” She turned to face the window. The late afternoon sunshine was glinting off the small windows at the top of the lighthouse. “I’m calling to say thank you. We got the package this afternoon.”

  “The package?” Jake said, sounding confused.

  “Yes,” Kat said. “The tickets. To the Sealife Centre?”

  “Is this a dig?” Jake said, his voice taking on an edge. “I mean, I’m sorry that I can’t afford things like that, but I thought we said basics have to come first. I’m starting to save up—”

  “Oh,” Kat said, her heart sinking. “Jake—sorry. It’s a misunderstanding. It wasn’t a dig at you. You’re right that we should be focusing on the bills and things first.”