The Seafront Tearoom Page 7
“Hi,” Charlie said. She put the iPad to one side. “Care to join us? That’s if you are up for being bombarded with chat about tearooms.”
“That sounds fun,” Séraphine said, bringing a chair up to their table. “What are you working on?”
“It’s for an edition of the food and drink magazine Charlie works on,” Kat explained. “We’re going to be reviewing tearooms, and we’re planning a trip to York tomorrow.”
“How interesting. I love reading those kind of articles—you can almost taste all of the cakes and pastries, and yet it’s completely calorie-free.” Séraphine smiled.
“Exactly,” Charlie said. “Although the same can’t be said when you’re doing the tasting.”
“It must be a dream,” Séraphine said. “I’m a bit fanatical about cakes. There’s bakery similar to this in my village at home—you know that when you go in there you’re going to be able to try out something delicious.”
“That’s exactly the kind of place we’re looking for,” Kat said.
Séraphine glanced back over at Zoe, to check she was OK. She had put down her DS to eat her scone.
“You’re on duty?”
Séraphine nodded. “Yes.”
“Where is it you’re staying in Scarborough?” Kat asked.
“Over by Peasholm Park.”
“Nice. I grew up round there. Is it going well?”
“Polite answer, or honest answer?” Séraphine said quietly.
“Oh dear,” Charlie said. “I’m sure it’ll get better.”
“Do you think so?” Séraphine asked.
“Now that you’ve found the Seafront, it definitely will.” Kat smiled warmly.
“I’ve got a day off tomorrow, so that will help.”
Charlie glanced at Kat, who nodded in silent agreement, and then they both looked back at Séraphine.
“If you don’t have plans,” Charlie said, “why not come and join us?”
Séraphine smiled. “I’d love to.”
10
Thursday, September 11
“Ready?” Charlie asked. She and Séraphine were standing in the hallway of Kat’s flat.
Kat had a last look in the mirror. Her hair was pinned back on one side with a mother-of-pearl vintage hair comb, and she was wearing an oyster-and-black tea dress with T-bar heels.
“I think I am, yes,” she said. “What am I forgetting?”
She checked her handbag quickly. Mobile, lipstick, keys, notebook, pen—it looked so empty without the rice cakes and wet wipes that usually cluttered it up. Her heart contracted a little as she thought of Leo.
“Nothing—as long as you’ve remembered your appetite,” Charlie laughed.
“I’ve brought mine,” Séraphine said.
“No problems there.” Kat smiled and closed her door behind her.
They turned onto the side street, and Charlie pressed the button on her keys. The lights flashed on a green MG convertible.
Kat drew in her breath. “That’s yours?”
“Yep,” Charlie replied proudly. “My pride and joy.”
Séraphine got in the back, and Kat climbed into the passenger seat and ran her hand over the cream leather. “Wow, this is nice.” She leaned into the plush passenger seat, enjoying the sensation of the leather molding to the shape of her body. “I’ve never been in a car like this before.”
“Wait till we get going.”
Charlie turned the key, switched the stereo on and wound down the windows on both sides. A young man walking past on the pavement stopped to admire them, giving a nod of appreciation.
Charlie put her foot down on the accelerator and Kat instinctively held the sides of her seat.
“Road trip, here we come,” Charlie said, turning to Kat and Séraphine with a smile.
They listened to music on the journey, and Kat’s mind drifted as she gazed out at the fields. It felt strange to be in the company of two women she barely knew, but she was more comfortable than she’d expected. Séraphine, with her warm, down-to-earth nature, was immediately welcoming. Charlie—Kat hadn’t quite worked her out yet. She was friendly, of course, and impressively determined in her approach to work. Kat wondered what she made of her, if she thought less of her for not being as ambitious.
An hour later, in the early afternoon, they arrived in York.
“First stop, Betty’s,” Charlie said. They walked along the cobbled streets until they came to the tearoom. “Not exactly secret, but an essential visit.”
“So this is it,” Kat said, peering in through the glass of the tearoom in awe. Inside, the tables were made up with crisp tablecloths, waitresses serving in traditional black-and-white outfits. “I’ve always wanted to come here.”
They were greeted by a waitress who showed them to a table in a peaceful corner of the room.
“Thanks,” Charlie said. Without looking at the menu, she put in their order. “We haven’t got that long, but could we have full afternoon tea? With—what type of tea shall we get?”
“Don’t look at me,” Séraphine said with a smile. “You two are the experts.”
“Darjeeling,” Kat said, without hesitation.
“Right,” Charlie said. “That.”
A few minutes later, the waitress brought over a white teapot and teacups.
“The champagne among teas,” Kat said, lifting the lid of the teapot and drinking in the aroma. “Smell that. There’s a trace of blackcurrant in this one.”
“Delicious,” Séraphine said, leaning in.
A tiered cake stand arrived. Kat took in the finely crafted mix of savory and sweet. Finger sandwiches with delicate layers of cucumber and smoked salmon were placed neatly on the bottom tier, above them a variety of cakes and pastries.
Kat poured the tea out carefully into two fragile white teacups. The light-colored liquid was precisely the shade it should be.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Charlie said.
The three women sipped tea, and each tasted one of the sandwiches, discussing their initial impressions. Charlie ordered a few extra things, and asked the waitress to bring them some water.
“Should we be taking notes?” Kat asked.
“Definitely not,” Charlie said. “We don’t want them to know we’re reviewing, so just relax and enjoy.”
“If you insist.” Séraphine smiled. “Shall we try these?” She pointed to the macaroons. “They’re familiar territory for me.”
“Rude not to, really,” Charlie said, passing one to Kat and taking one for herself.
Charlie finished hers in two bites. “What do you think?”
“Good—there’s an exquisite subtlety to the pistachio flavor,” Séraphine said.
“They haven’t gone overboard on the filling either. A pretty perfect macaroon all in all,” Kat said.
They drank their way through a pot of tea, enthusiastically sharing thoughts on the almond slices and chocolate éclairs. When only crumbs and tea leaves remained, Kat asked Charlie what the next stage of the process was.
“We’ll pool our notes, then write up the reviews, and the final stage is to e-mail them over for approval. I’m guest-editing this edition, but Jess, my boss, will still have the final word.”
“That sounds good,” Kat said. “Well, I’ve got a lot to say already. I love this place.”
“How come you haven’t been here before?” Charlie asked her. “You only live an hour away.”
Kat toyed with her cup and saucer, stalling. Charlie waited for her to speak, her blue eyes kind, her expression open and relaxed.
“I can’t afford this sort of thing,” she said. “Since Leo arrived, we can’t stretch to much beyond the occasional trip to the Seafront. And even then Letty sometimes helps us out.”
“I see,” Charlie said. “Letty seems kind.”
“When was that?” Séraphine asked.
Kat paused, looking at Charlie and Séraphine. She barely knew them, but something told her she could talk to them honestly.
“Messy breakup, with Leo’s dad.”
“What happened?” Charlie asked.
“We weren’t ready to have a baby,” Kat said. “We’d only been living together a couple of months when I got pregnant with Leo.”
“How did he react?” Charlie said.
“Pretty badly. He missed our old life a lot, and I guess he responded by carrying on living it—going out with friends, drinking, coming home late. Having a child brings some people together, but in our case it drove us apart.”
“That must have been very hard,” Séraphine said.
“It was a lonely time, yes. We didn’t talk enough.”
“Are things any better now that you’re separated?” Séraphine asked.
“They are, yes. We’re finding a way, muddling through—he’s finally started to embrace being a dad. Leo’s staying with him up in Scotland at the moment, the first time that we’ve done that.”
“You seem very forgiving, and strong,” Séraphine said.
“Ha ha,” Kat said. “I’m not that strong. I just get on with things as best as I can. It does sometimes seem as if everyone else’s life is smooth sailing, though.”
“I don’t know about that,” Charlie said, with a wry smile. “Mine certainly isn’t. I thought I’d be getting married next spring—that didn’t exactly work out as planned.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kat said. So Charlie’s life wasn’t perfect after all. It surprised her.
“These things happen.” Charlie shrugged. “But I won’t pretend it didn’t knock the wind out of me. I met him at work, and after a year we moved in together. For the first time in my life, it seemed as though everything was going according to plan.” Charlie paused, thinking about Ben. “I’ve kissed enough frogs, and I was sure that Ben was different. He was a good guy—everyone told me so—and when he asked me to marry him I didn’t hesitate. This was it. He was The One. My happily ever after.”
She shook her head. “Obviously it didn’t work out that way.”
“What went wrong?” Kat asked, her voice soft.
“One morning we got up, talked about our honeymoon to Italy over breakfast, and took the bus into the office. I sat down at my desk, ready to start work, same as any other day. Then Jess—my boss—called me and asked me to come into her office. All sorts of thoughts went through my mind—that I’d overlooked some detail or missed a deadline. But no—she’d heard from the sales guys about Ben sleeping with a lap dancer on one of their nights out. Apparently they were all talking about it.”
“Ouch,” Kat said, shaking her head. “Your boss told you?”
“Yes. As if finding out wasn’t humiliating enough in itself. I broke up with him that night, and the next day I stuck every card he’d ever given me into the shredder at work.”
“Good for you,” Séraphine said.
“There was no way I was going back to him,” Charlie said. “Anyway, what’s so galling is that I think he was relieved. I guess he’d been looking for a get-out, and that was as good a way as any. I’m glad I’m not with him, I truly am. But I still feel as though it took away part of me. It hasn’t been easy, even though I know it was for the best.”
“There’s a lot to be said for being single,” Kat said.
“There certainly is,” Charlie agreed, smiling.
Séraphine nodded, but didn’t say anything. Kat wondered if it was because she was shy, or if she was holding something back. She seemed comfortable having the conversation, but it was as if she preferred to let Kat and Charlie do most of the talking.
“Spending all evening in the bath with a glass of wine and a good book—you can’t beat that,” Charlie said.
“Starfishing in bed,” Kat said. “That’s my favorite thing. Oh, and eating ice cream at midnight.”
“Yes. Although for me it’s got to be ketchup and chips, in a sandwich,” Charlie added.
“Eewww!” Kat screwed up her face.
“Absolutely—try it,” Charlie insisted.
“I guess even a foodie’s allowed time off. What else?”
“Watching what I want, when I want,” Charlie batted back. “No complaining during The Great British Bake Off.”
“Time to sew quilts, and cushions.”
“I don’t seem to get round to any of that,” Charlie said, laughing. “But reading the paper and not having to hand over the best sections—that’s another thing I love.”
“Knowing how to fix all the small things in your house. Because no one else is going to mend them for you,” Kat added.
“Oh yes,” Charlie laughed. “I’m even a spider-removal expert these days.”
“There’s more time for friends,” Séraphine said.
“Yes,” Charlie agreed, smiling warmly. “Definitely that.”
Charlie paid the bill, and put on her jacket. “OK—our next stop is over by the river.”
“Let’s go,” Kat said, getting to her feet.
The sun was out as the three women walked through town, down cobblestone streets and past Tudor buildings that now housed boutiques and restaurants. A group of tourists stopped to take photos by the city walls.
“This place is so pretty,” Séraphine said.
“Yes, it is. It’s quiet though, isn’t it?” Charlie said.
“Do you think?” Kat said, surprised. She glanced around at the shoppers and sightseers, conscious only of the bustle of activity surrounding them.
“Compared to London, I suppose,” Charlie said. “When I’m away, I always feel as if I’m missing out on something.”
“You’re not,” Kat said assertively. “Maybe now’s a good time to talk through the Cardinal Rule of Afternoon Tea.”
“Oh?” Charlie said, raising an eyebrow.
“What’s that?” Séraphine asked.
“Let’s sit down,” Kat said, motioning to a bench.
Charlie checked the time on her phone. “Now?”
“Yes,” Kat insisted.
“But . . .”
Kat took Charlie’s hand, and the three women sat next to one another on the bench. Leaves fell gently onto the grass in front of them, a freshly laid carpet of greens and golds.
“See that cat?” Kat pointed at a tabby that had found a patch of sunlight on a nearby low wall, and was lying in it, content.
“Yes,” Charlie said.
“What is it doing?”
Charlie watched the cat, bathing in its patch of warmth.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Are you sure?”
“Yes. That cat is fundamentally failing to achieve,” Charlie said.
Séraphine laughed. “I disagree. It’s living slowly. Contemplating. Enjoying.”
“Exactly,” Kat said triumphantly. “Séraphine’s got it.”
“That cat’s wasting time,” Charlie said firmly.
“No, it isn’t.” Kat shook her head. “And when we take our time over afternoon tea, neither are we. That’s the cardinal rule—never rush. Take time to savor it.”
Charlie and Séraphine pored over the menu in the Riverside Tearoom and Kat looked around at the mismatched wooden chairs repainted in teal and primrose yellow, admiring the vintage styling. Tiny origami birds were strung from the ceiling, and standard lamps with handmade shades with seventies florals brought a warm light to the room. The window seat, where the three of them were sitting, was strewn with pretty cushions made up of quilted squares.
“You know what, in the name of research—and seeing as we are now offici
ally not in a hurry—I think we go for the champagne option,” Charlie said.
“Are you sure?” Séraphine asked.
“Of course,” Charlie said, with a smile. “It’s research. Besides, when you’ve worked as many late nights as I have, you don’t feel bad about a few expenses.”
“Well, if you insist,” Kat said, excited at the prospect.
When the drinks arrived, Kat took a tentative sip, the bubbles dancing on her tongue. She smiled. “I could get used to this.”
“So, what do you think of this place?” Charlie said, leaning back in her seat.
“It’s cool,” Séraphine said. “It’s trendier, I suppose. I love what they’ve done with the antique cake stands.” She pointed at the display on the counter.
“I like that too.”
“I’m not sure about some of the cake flavors, though,” Kat said. “Lemon and lavender?”
“It could go either way, I suppose,” said Charlie.
The waitress came over to their table with a tray of cakes and dainty sandwiches.
“Here’s to afternoon tea,” Charlie said, raising her glass.
“And champagne,” Séraphine added.
“And to learning how it should be done,” Kat added.
After tea, they took a scenic route back to Charlie’s car, chatting and laughing together. Kat’s mind buzzed with the new tastes and experiences, and in her new friends’ company she felt relaxed and free. On the way home, Charlie turned up the stereo and they sang along to the tunes they knew, explaining some of the lyrics to Séraphine. It was early evening, the sky dark, when they pulled up outside Kat’s flat by the pier.
“Same time tomorrow?” Charlie said.
“I can’t, I’m afraid,” Séraphine said. “I’ll be working.”
“I’m in,” Kat said, smiling widely. “This time, the coast.”
11
Friday, September 12
“Séraphine, I’ve just nipped out on my lunch break, so I haven’t got long. Could I ask a favor?”