Chapter 13
Carrie spent the following day wondering how things were going for Layla.
Layla had left the previous evening determined to speak with her dad.
An hour or so after she’d gone, Carrie had received a text from Michael saying simply, Thank you.
From that she guessed it had gone well, but the real test would be when poor Layla spoke with her mum.
Carrie was left wondering until Wednesday. She was in the bookshop with Poppy and was about to close up for lunch when Michael and Layla walked in.
“Hello, you two,” she said as lightly as she could. “How are Tabitha and the kittens?”
“Definitely making my allergies worse,” said Michael, blowing his nose.
“They’re doing really well,” Layla said. “I think their eyes are going to open soon!”
“I wanted to take you for lunch if you’re free,” Michael said.
“I can hang out with Poppy and make her lunch then walk her to holiday club,” offered Layla.
“Oh, thank you,” said Carrie. “What do you think, Poppy?”
“Are you big enough to make me lunch?” Poppy asked Layla, making everyone laugh.
“It depends what you’d like,” Layla said.
“Can you make beans on toast?” Poppy questioned.
“That I can manage.”
Poppy turned to her mother. “I’d like Layla to make me lunch.”
“OK, I’ll see you after holiday club then, Pumpkin.” Carrie gave her daughter a hug. “Have fun.”
She left Layla with a set of keys to the shop and she and Michael went next door to The First Sip, waving at Nat and Sam, who were coming up the high street on their lunch break.
The coffee shop was busy but there was a table left near the back which they grabbed and Michael went up to the counter to order them coffees and toasted sandwiches.
Carrie watched him talking to Lucy. She realised she felt nervous. She was pretty sure from his text message and how he was speaking to her now that he wasn’t angry with her and didn’t think she’d been interfering in his relationship with his daughter, but she couldn’t be absolutely certain.
He returned to the table with her latte and his Americano.
“I wanted to properly thank you,” he said as he sat down. “Layla and I had a really good chat after she talked with you. She said you’d convinced her to speak to Georgia and we’re both really grateful.”
“I’m just so glad she felt able to talk to me about it,” said Carrie.
“So am I. It’s been eating away at her for weeks now,” Michael said.
He took a sip of his coffee. “I took her to see her mum yesterday evening and Layla told her everything. I don’t know what Georgia plans to do, but she was completely supportive of Layla, just wishing she’d felt able to say something sooner.
I think she feels she’s failed because Layla didn’t come to her for help. ”
“It was a really difficult situation and fifteen-year-olds don’t always make the best decisions,” said Carrie. “Plus, it’s not easy to talk to your parents when you’re a teenager.”
“I guess so.” Michael looked down at his coffee.
“What is it?” Carrie asked, instinctively putting her hand on his.
“I didn’t have parents as a teenager,” Michael said, quietly. “Well, not my biological parents anyway. I didn’t know my father. My mother brought me up on a little farm two miles outside of town. She died when I was twelve.”
“Oh, Michael, I’m so sorry! I had no idea.” Carrie felt her heart tug at the thought of what he’d been through.
“Why would you?” he said with a little shrug. “It’s not something I shout from the rooftops, though most people around here know, because . . . well . . . small town.”
“That must have been so hard,” Carrie said. She was devastated for him. She couldn’t blame him for not saying anything before, but she’d felt like she knew him and this came as a huge shock to her.
“It was. She was ill for a couple of years before she died. Breast cancer. Anyway, everyone around here was amazing looking after me, and . . . um . . . Peter adopted me.”
“How did I not know about this?”
“You must have been, what seven or eight when my mum died? I can’t imagine your aunt and uncle thought it a suitable topic of conversation.”
“Maybe not, but . . . I feel like I should have known . . .”
“I’m kind of glad you didn’t. So many people around here still treat me with kid gloves because I was the little orphan. It was nice that you . . . thought I was just an idiot with an out-of-control dog!”
Carrie smiled. “I never thought you were an idiot.”
“The main reason I decided to move back here after Georgia and I broke up was because I knew what an amazing support system I’d have with not just Peter, but the whole town as I navigated bringing up Layla.
That being said, it can get a little intense when everyone is looking out for you.
That’s actually why Dylan and I are friends.
He was in foster care after he was taken away from his parents as a toddler, so he was another tragedy case. ”
“Oh my goodness,” said Carrie.
“Anyway, yeah, so by the time I was a teenager I was living with Peter, who was absolutely great, but, you know, not my mum.”
Carrie had to fight back the urge to hug him in the middle of the coffee shop.
She could just imagine the gossip going around the book club.
She realised her hand was still resting on his.
He didn’t seem in any great hurry to move it as he continued.
“Thankfully for him, I wasn’t exactly a rebellious kid.
You saw me, I spent my time either with Peter, in the library or in the bookshop. ”
“I remember you were so tall and thin. Very brooding and cool,” Carrie said.
“You thought I was cool?”
Michael lifted his head and their eyes met.
“Here we go,” said Lucy as she approached their table. Carrie whipped her hand away from Michael and they both turned towards Lucy as she placed their plates of food on the table. “I’m so sorry about the wait. We’ve been really busy.”
“Don’t worry at all,” said Carrie. “These look absolutely delicious.”
They were silent for a moment as they broke open their toasties, letting the steam out of them.
“Layla also told me what happened the day you met her when you prevented her from shoplifting,” Michael said, taking a bite of his sandwich.
Carrie opened her mouth to speak but found she didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t worry. I’m not cross with you,” Michael said with a smile.
“I’m very grateful that by helping her and keeping her secret until she was ready to share it, you showed her she could rely on you.
It means a lot knowing there’s another adult she feels she can confide in.
And then you showed her you trusted her by offering her the job in the shop. ”
“I felt terrible not telling you about what had happened, but I knew it was just a little slip-up,” said Carrie. “She’s such a good kid.”
“She is,” agreed Michael. “Right now, I’m feeling incredibly grateful that Layla and I have you in our lives,” he said, gently.
“It was the very least that I could do.”
It was all too easy to lose track of time and it came as a surprise to them both when Layla came into the coffee shop with Monty. She looked around, spotted them and came over.
“You both should have been back at work five minutes ago,” she said with a laugh while Monty greeted them both enthusiastically. “There are a couple of customers waiting outside the bookshop for you.”
“Oh no!” cried Carrie, getting up hurriedly. “Thank you for lunch, Michael. And thank you, Layla, for looking after Poppy. Did she get off to holiday club all right?” She picked up her bag and looked around her to see if she’d forgotten anything.
“Yep, no problem at all,” Layla grinned.
“Brilliant. Thanks again! I’ll see you both later,” Carrie said, rushing out of the coffee shop.
* * *
“Did you have a nice time with Layla earlier?” Carrie asked Poppy as they walked to the supermarket after holiday club.
“Yes,” said Poppy. “She makes lovely beans on toast. She put cheese on them.”
“I bet that was delicious,” said Carrie, fighting a smile. She’d been trying to get Poppy to try some grated cheese on her beans on toast for years and she’d always refused it.
“Did you have a yummy lunch with Michael?”
“I did. Thank you for asking.”
“What did you eat?”
“We both had coffees and cheese and ham toasties.”
“I think my lunch was better,” declared Poppy.
They went into the supermarket and Carrie used her usual trick of putting Poppy in charge of finding the things on the list so she’d be distracted from asking for all the sweets and junk food.
Carrie still got talked into some chocolate buttons, but figured she’d got away pretty easily, all considered.
They’d paid and were making their way out of the supermarket when they spotted Lucy coming towards them.
Carrie saw her eyes light up at the sight of them and feared she was about to face an inquisition about her and Michael.
She looked around for an escape route but there was none and Poppy waving and calling out, “Hello, Lucy!” sealed her fate.
“Hi, Poppy, hi, Carrie! How are you both?” Lucy asked.
“We’re good, thanks.”
“It was nice seeing you and Michael together in the coffee shop earlier.”
“Your food is delicious,” said Carrie.
“Thank you. I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” Lucy replied. “So, you two have been in together a couple of times now . . .”
Carrie prayed Poppy wouldn’t add in her two pennies’ worth and swiftly handed her the packet of chocolate buttons to distract her.
“Michael has been a big help since I got here,” Carrie replied, carefully.
Lucy looked like she was hoping Carrie would say more, but was destined to be disappointed.
“Don’t let us hold you up,” said Carrie, with a smile. “You must be tired after running the coffee shop all day and desperate to get home.”
“That’s true,” said Lucy. “My feet are killing me!”
“Well, enjoy your evening!” said Carrie.
“You too!” replied Lucy.
Carrie let out a sigh of relief as they carried on out of the shop.
Lucy was lovely, and she couldn’t blame her for being curious.
She could only imagine what a piece of really juicy gossip was worth in a little town like this.
However, she wasn’t about to explain her friendship with Michael to Lucy and especially wouldn’t want to explain to Lucy why she’d been comforting Michael.
Lucy was relatively new to the town and might not be aware of Michael’s history.
It certainly wasn’t Carrie’s place to tell her.
She shook her head, clearing it of the sad image of Michael as a teenager that had filled her mind.
He’d seemed so grown up back then and unapproachable, but of course he hadn’t been.
She wished she’d had the courage to speak to him, maybe befriend him.
They got back to the flat and Carrie cooked them a chicken stir-fry with noodles — Poppy’s request, mainly because she loved trying to eat the noodles with chopsticks. There was usually a lot of mess and slurping involved and it wasn’t a meal which invited polite company.
They sat next to each other at the kitchen island companionably, with Poppy filling her in on how they’d walked up to the castle during holiday club and a lady had shown them around and taught them how soldiers had shot arrows through really thin windows and how a drawbridge worked.
The little girl seemed far more impressed with the castle ruins now an expert had talked her through them.
“That sounds like a very awesome afternoon,” said Carrie when Poppy had finished. “And to think I was stuck slaving away in the bookshop!”
Poppy giggled. “You love working in the bookshop, Mummy. You’re always happy when you’re in there. I think you like it much more than working in the school.”
“I do love being in the bookshop, you’re right,” said Carrie carefully. “But sometimes we enjoy doing things because they’re different and it’s nice to have a change. It doesn’t mean that we’d necessarily want to do them all the time.”
“I’d like to live here all the time,” Poppy said.
“You’d miss your friends from school though, especially Sophie.”
“Maybe she could come and visit and then you could see her mummy too.”
“That would be a good idea,” Carrie said. She wished things were really as simple as Poppy suggested. “But don’t you think Auntie Mary would like her shop back sometime?”
Poppy thought for a minute. “Yes,” she concluded. “But Granny says Auntie Mary is getting on a bit and should be taking it easier, so maybe you could still help her, and then you could help Michael too.”
“Michael doesn’t need my help, Pumpkin. He’s very good at his job and I think I would probably just mess things up for him. He uses a lot of glue, and you know the state I get in whenever I try to glue something.”
“I don’t think Michael would mind, Mummy. He really likes you. Sometimes he looks at you with a smile on his face when you’re busy doing something.”
Carrie blushed. Did Michael really do that? She needed to change the subject.
“Right, well, if you’re all finished eating, why don’t you go and get your pyjamas ready and check your bedroom’s tidy? I’ll be up to run your bath in just a minute.”
Poppy climbed down from her stool and skipped cheerfully up the stairs, leaving Carrie once again thinking about a certain bookbinder.