The Seafront Tearoom Page 26

  She waited for Kat to say something, but she sat in silence, picking at the worn Formica on the kitchen counter with her nail. Minutes went by before she looked up and said, “What about me and Euan?” The tone of her voice hardened: “What about what we deserved?”

  “Letty wants so much to make things right,” Charlie said.

  Kat shook her head. “I have no idea who I am anymore,” she said. “I feel like Letty tricked me. Lied to me. My dad too. And now I find out you knew . . .”

  Charlie felt a tug at her heart. “Kat—please believe me. It was never my intention to keep anything from you. I suppose it must seem as if I went behind your back, but I only did it to make sure that, when you did find out, you found out the whole truth. I never wanted to hide anything from you.”

  Kat bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I’m taking this out on you. Classic shooting the messenger, isn’t it?”

  “It’s understandable,” Charlie said. “I’d probably shoot me.”

  “The thing is, even if I was annoyed—and I’m not, not really—I need a friend more than ever right now.”

  Charlie took a chance, knowing she might be pushed away. She stepped toward Kat and held out her arms. After a moment’s hesitation Kat came toward her, leaning her head on her shoulder, and Charlie held her close in a hug.

  On Monday morning, Charlie and Euan were sitting in his kitchen over a breakfast of French toast and strawberries, winter sunshine coming in through his large windows.

  “Are you trying to persuade me to stay with all this?” Charlie said, pointing to the food.

  “Shamelessly. Is it that obvious?” Euan smiled.

  “It’s very tempting.”

  “What a weekend, eh,” Euan said, putting a hand through his hair. “I bet you came up here expecting a big romantic reunion . . .”

  “Which we had,” Charlie said.

  “Yes, which we had. But then you end up in the middle of all this.”

  “It was my choice. I could have put away that card and made myself forget about it.”

  Euan rolled his eyes playfully. “As if you could ever have done that.”

  “You’re right.”

  She went around to his side of the table and put her arms around him from behind, kissing the side of his face. “It might not have been the weekend either of us expected, but it’s still been perfect.”

  He turned and kissed her.

  “I wish this wasn’t another good-bye,” she said. “So soon after the last time.”

  “There are other options, you know,” he said.

  “Like what, you coming to live in London? I can’t see that somehow.”

  “I could. I will,” Euan said. “If that’s what it takes.”

  “No,” Charlie said. “Anyway, you have to see your project through here. But my job isn’t moving.”

  “We can still see each other at weekends,” Euan said. “Maybe not every weekend, but . . .”

  “This situation sucks.” Charlie wrinkled her nose.

  “Yes. It does.”

  “Because I like you. I like you a lot,” she said, looking down.

  “I made you say it,” Euan said, taking her hand and smiling.

  “You didn’t make me.” She laughed. “I wanted to say it.”

  “I don’t care why you said it,” Euan said, beaming. “Just that you did.”

  53

  Monday, November 3

  Séraphine was sitting in the library at the chateau, putting the books she’d bought in England, and the ones Kat had given her, away tidily on the shelves. Today was a day for settling back in at home, she’d decided. It weighed on her mind a little that she needed to start looking for a teaching job—and that she couldn’t live with her parents forever—but all of that could wait another day.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by her mobile ringing in her pocket: Kat.

  “Hello!” she said, delighted.

  “Hi, Séraphine,” Kat said.

  “Hey, so lovely to hear your voice.” Séraphine took her phone over to the window seat and curled her jean-clad legs up under her. “I was just thinking of you, funnily enough. I was putting those Agatha Christie books you gave me away on the shelves in our library.”

  “You have a library?” Kat marveled. “I really must get one of those.”

  Séraphine laughed. “We have a little more space here.”

  “So how is everything?”

  “It’s good to be back.” Since she’d been home, Séraphine had felt more settled, complete. Her outlook had shifted.

  “Did it all go OK with Carla? How was it, seeing her again?”

  Séraphine shut the library door and lowered her voice to a whisper. “It was fantastic. We just clicked back—the two of us, as if we hadn’t been away from each other at all. And yet we’ve grown in the time we were apart, we’ve been through it together. You know, Kat, in some ways going to England was a good test—you know? I’ve never been more sure that I want to be with her.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that,” Kat said. “I hope to meet Carla one day soon. And how are things with your family?”

  “Busy.” Séraphine thought of the excitement and upheaval in the household with her brother’s return the day before. “And interesting.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “You know I told you about Guillaume? My brother who disappeared? Well he’s back living with us again.”

  “Wow. And that’s good, I hope?”

  “It’s good, yes. Not entirely straightforward—he still has some things to sort out—but it’s good.”

  “Is he settling back in OK?”

  “Yes. The twins are delighted, and I think playing with them is a good distraction for him too. We haven’t talked much about what happened yet.”

  “And what about you—have you told anyone about you and Carla yet?”

  “No,” Séraphine said. She paused for a moment. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. But it never seems to be the right time.”

  “Is Carla OK with that?”

  “Yes. No. She wants us to be out in the open. So do I. But now I’m here—it’s harder than I thought it would be. I have a lot to lose.”

  Every time Séraphine tried to imagine telling her parents, the scene would end in one of them—usually her mother—storming out. She couldn’t picture them understanding or accepting it. What would they say at church? That was what her mother would be worried about. Last night, in bed, she’d wondered if her parents would go so far as to cut her out of the family.

  “But what will happen if you don’t tell them?” Kat said.

  “My life will keep on being a lie,” Séraphine said. “Not so brilliant, I suppose, when you look at it that way.”

  The line fell silent for a moment.

  “Enough about me,” Séraphine said. “How are you?”

  “Ugh,” Kat said.

  “Ugh, what?”

  “Ugh—everything’s a mess.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “How long have you got?”

  “There’s no hurry.”

  “I have no idea where to start, Séraphine. The last couple of days have been so insane. I feel as if I want to laugh and cry all at once.”

  “Start at the beginning. Take your time. BREATHE.”

  Séraphine heard Kat take a deep breath, then she started to talk. She told Séraphine everything—what had happened with Letty, and the new relationship she had to Euan. How she’d nearly fallen out with Charlie, until they managed to talk things through . . .

  “So, let me get this straight,” Séraphine said, her mind reeling with all the information. “Since I saw you last, you’ve gained a mother—and a brother?”

  Kat laughed. “I told you it was insane. Yes, Euan’s my half brother.”


  “You weren’t exaggerating. That is crazy.”

  “I know. It’s been pretty awful.”

  “Awful?” Séraphine said, slowly processing what she’d heard. “I mean, I can understand that it would be a huge shock. I’m not trying to say otherwise. But does it have to be a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can get past feeling betrayed about it all. Letty lying to me, my dad lying to me . . .”

  “That will take time, sure,” Séraphine said. “But look at it this way. You’ve gained someone new in your life—two people, in fact. You haven’t lost anyone.”

  “I don’t know. I feel as if I have.”

  “Do you think talking to Letty again would help?”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready. I passed the Seafront on my walk home. It was the strangest thing, walking by and not going inside to say hi. I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”

  “Letty doesn’t have to be a mother to you, you know,” Séraphine said. “You don’t have to accept her as anyone other than who you want her to be.”

  “I know it sounds strange, but Letty’s the one I feel I’ve lost.”

  Séraphine walked upstairs to her room, thinking about Kat and wishing she could be with her, if only for an evening, to help her feel stronger again. She felt sure that Letty would be suffering too, possibly regretting the decisions she’d made.

  She looked into Guillaume’s room. He was sitting on his bed, dark-blond hair covering one eye, his acoustic guitar on his lap, strumming it quietly.

  “I’ve missed that sound,” she said.

  He looked up at her and smiled. “Come in.”

  She closed the door behind her and sat on his beanbag. “So here you are again,” she said.

  “Here I am again,” he said distantly.

  “Are you feeling OK?”

  He nodded. “Better than I thought I would. I think the hardest part has been realizing what I put Mum and Dad through.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “What I put you all through.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she said. “What happened?”

  “I guess I had to hit rock bottom before I realized that something needed to change. That rock bottom was a police cell, and knowing I had no home to go back to.”

  “Were you staying with friends, before that?”

  “I thought they were friends,” Guillaume said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “But they weren’t, not real friends. Acquaintances that disappeared when I needed them.”

  “We thought about you all the time,” Séraphine said. “Mum and Dad never gave up hope that you’d get in touch.”

  “I should have,” he said. “But I couldn’t face dealing with what was happening. I couldn’t lie to them.”

  “Have you told them what happened to you?”

  “Some of it. They were OK, you know. They took it better than I thought they would.”

  “That’s good.”

  “You’ve got something you need to tell them too, don’t you?” he said.

  Séraphine felt the wind go out of her. “What do you mean?”

  He couldn’t know. She and Carla had always been so careful.

  “That you’re in love. And that it’s not with whatever farmer’s boy they’d pictured you marrying.”

  “How did you find out?” Séraphine said, her chest tight with anxiety.

  He smiled kindly. “I’ve always suspected you wouldn’t follow Mum and Dad’s plan—but wasn’t sure. Until now, that is.”

  She waited for something—him to reject her, disgusted. Or to laugh at her for thinking she was in love. One of the many things she’d prepared herself for.

  “She must be someone special,” Guillaume said. “You seem much happier these days.”

  “She is.” Séraphine felt relief flooding through her. “And yes, I am happier.”

  “They’ll cope, you know. Mum and Dad,” he reassured her. “It might take time, but they love you. They’ll have to get used to it.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes. You should tell them.”

  Guillaume’s laid-back acceptance and understanding lifted a weight from Séraphine’s shoulders. He loved and cared about her for who she was—not who she loved. Perhaps he was right, and her parents would do the same.

  54

  Tuesday, November 4

  Kat held Leo’s hand and they approached the doors of the nursery. She smiled at the other mums with their pushchairs, and took Leo’s scooter from him.

  “You be good today,” Kat said, bending down to kiss Leo bye. “Have fun. Grandpa is going to collect you this noon.”

  “Bye, Mummy,” he said. She ruffled his hair and he sped off through the doors, his trainers flashing tiny red lights. At the bus stop, she rooted through her bag for something to read while she waited for the bus to the call center. Inside was a copy of Indulge—the one that Charlie had given her to pass on to Letty. She opened it—flicking past the photos of the places she, Charlie and Séraphine had visited together.

  She came to Charlie’s piece, the secret history—she’d been waiting for a quiet moment to read it. She read it, picturing Letty.

  . . . the tearoom came to its current owner when she had a young son, and with her husband working abroad, it was down to her to keep them going in financially challenging times. When the Seafront was broken into and vandalized, she had to repair the interior herself, and find furniture to replace the pieces that had been stolen . . .

  She pictured Letty finding chairs and tables, just as she’d had to do for her own flat when they’d run out of money. They’d both had their challenges in life, making decisions that seemed best at the time, and finding a way to be at peace with the consequences. Perhaps that was why Letty had always been able to understand how Kat was feeling, why she’d always instinctively known what kind of support Kat needed, been there for her whenever she’d needed it. Perhaps it was time for her to be there for Letty now.

  The day at the call center had been long and tiring, but at least her second day in the job had been easier than the first. She’d begun to master the technique, there’d been fewer hang-ups when she called, and at the end of the day her boss had called her into his office to commend her on a good start. But everything about the office made her feel empty. After lunch she’d poured herself a cup of tea from the office machine, stale and flavorless with shelf-stable milk, and made a resolution to stick it out and make whatever money she could there while searching for alternative employment.

  On her way home, she passed the Seafront. She thought of the way a warm teapot arriving at her table had turned around a bad day for her so many times. Letty would be in there now, Kat thought—doing the accounts or cleaning the tables.

  She thought again of what Séraphine had said. Letty didn’t have to be her mother.

  She knocked on the window, and Letty let her in.

  “Hi,” Kat said. She felt a surge of mixed emotions. It was impossible to look at Letty’s face now without comparing her features with her own, searching for some clue in each feature or mannerism as to who she truly was, and why Letty had given her away.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Letty said. “Come in.”

  “I brought you something.” She passed Letty the magazine. “Charlie wanted you to see it. I’m afraid I forgot I had it until now.”

  Letty looked through it and smiled. “So this is what you three were working away on. It turned out quite nicely, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Kat sat down. “I read the feature, about this place.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “It’s quite a story, isn’t it, how you and John set it up. There was a lot I didn’t know.”

  “Everyone has bad times and better times,” Letty said. “That’s life for you, isn’t it?”

>   Their eyes met, and Kat felt a lump form in her throat.

  “I’ve got so many questions,” Kat said.

  “Of course you do,” Letty said, nodding. “And I’ll do my best to answer them.”

  “I don’t need to know about my father. Dad’s all I need in that department,” Kat said firmly. “But other things. A lot of other things.”

  Letty nodded earnestly.

  “The only thing is, I don’t think I’m ready for the answers yet,” Kat said.

  “Then let’s just chat today, shall we?”

  Kat smiled and nodded.

  “We’ll have time for the rest. Plenty of time,” Letty said.

  55

  Christmas Day

  “Séraphine, it’s Christmas!” Benjamin said, bounding into her room and jumping onto her bed. Mathilde followed close behind. “You can’t sleep through it, it’s too exciting.”

  Séraphine pulled the duvet up over her head, groaning playfully. But even at six in the morning, she welcomed the intrusion. She’d missed the twins so much.

  She and her mother had spent the day before making the final preparations for the Christmas meal. When Guillaume had come home at the start of November, all Hélène had talked about was how wonderful it would be to have Christmas as a family. But then things had changed.

  For Séraphine the prospect of Christmas at home didn’t seem wonderful at all. The atmosphere in the kitchen had been tense and frosty, and she couldn’t help feeling her mother would have been more comfortable if she’d left her to cook alone, or, perhaps, disappeared altogether. Sometimes Séraphine was tempted to do just that, leave and be with Carla rather than making do with secret meetings and brief moments on the phone.