Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning, Jessica found a small table at the back of the Coffee Pot café and kept her eyes on the door for Gillian.
She sat for a moment, enjoying the scent of coffee and listened to the whirring machine and the sound of the milk being steamed.
It was another chilly morning, though at least it was dry, and she appreciated the warmth of the cosy shop.
As she waited, she checked her emails and texts.
She was relieved that, aside from a friendly checking-in message from Freda, the office was leaving her alone.
Her stomach clenched when she saw the trail of texts that had been steadily arriving and which she had continued to ignore.
And a tiny flicker of something inside reminded her that she would have to deal with this sooner rather than later.
The thought of returning to work did not excite her in the least. It was strange to feel a bit displaced and uncertain about what would come next, but for the first time in her life she felt okay about it.
Her mind momentarily wandered to Reuben and Belinda.
She noticed Reuben’s car hadn’t been there since yesterday afternoon, and in her mind she had him shacked up somewhere with Belinda in Glasgow.
But then she pushed the unhelpful thoughts away.
Instead, she focused on the positive day that yesterday had turned out to be with the sauna experience with her mum — they had already booked their next slot for later in the week — and then the afternoon of baking bread and cakes.
Her dad’s eyes had almost popped out his head when she suggested he come into the kitchen and be her taster.
‘Delicious,’ he’d said as he chewed a slice of bread, fresh from the oven. She’d then cut him a square of date and walnut loaf and his reaction had been very positive. ‘You have a talent for baking, that’s for sure.’
Just then the café door opened and Gillian came in wearing a royal blue padded jacket and a bright red hat, which she pulled off her head, allowing her mass of red curls to escape.
‘I didn’t think I’d ever make it here. I need a coffee, pronto,’ she said without stopping to take a breath. ‘What a morning. What are you having?’
‘You sit down,’ said Jessica kindly. ‘Let me go and order. What kind of coffee would you like?’
‘A flat white please.’
‘Anything to eat?’
‘Um, yes, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Maybe just a croissant please. Or a scone. I don’t mind. Anything will do. But here,’ she said, reaching into her pocket. ‘Let me give you some money.’
Jessica dismissed her with a wave. ‘Don’t be daft. Let me treat you.’
She went over to the counter and placed her order and then went back and sat at the table. ‘A stressful start to the day then?’
Gillian nodded, the ghost of a smile on her face.
‘You could say that. I’ve had to deal with burning toast, wash a sink full of dirty dishes, then just as I was about to make myself a cup of tea before we left for school, I realised that Millie had tried on my red lipstick.
Once I’d carried out some damage limitation on Rehab Red — a lipstick I bought years ago and thought I would hold onto just in case — and wiped it off her mouth, I discovered that she had used it to draw a heart on our bedroom mirror and then trodden on it, which explained the red marks crisscrossed across the beige carpet floor. ’
Jessica gasped. ‘All of that before nine o’clock?’
‘Tell me about it. I managed to quickly shampoo the carpet and get most of it out. But I am now ready to collapse. And drink lots of very strong coffee.’ She smiled gratefully when she saw the waitress bringing it over to their table.
‘Thank you so much. Sorry, Jessica, not what you needed to hear. I’m sure it’s very different to the usual type of chat you get on a Monday morning in the office. ’
‘It’s fine. Don’t apologise. It’s much better, in fact,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m in awe of you. I’m sure it can’t be easy, being a single mum.’
A brief, pained look flashed across her eyes.
‘No, it’s not one of the easiest things I’ve ever done and it’s not ideal when we’re still living with my mum.
’ She rolled her shoulders and took a sip of coffee.
‘That’s better.’ She sighed and reached across for the croissant.
‘Thanks for this.’ She broke off a piece and took a bite.
‘You’re welcome,’ said Jessica, just glad that the simple act of buying her a coffee and pastry was making Gillian’s day a wee bit better.
‘And I got the sense that work isn’t that great either?’
Gillian forced a chuckle. ‘I’m not usually this doom and gloom. Honestly, I’m usually the life and soul of the party. Enough about my moans and groans. Tell me about you.’
Jessica felt guilty for having lost touch with Gillian over the years, especially when she realised what Gillian had been dealing with.
Her mum had told her that Gillian’s partner walked out on her when she was pregnant after deciding that she didn’t want to become a parent after all.
Then Gillian was made redundant from her job during lockdown.
Skint and with a small baby to look after, she moved home to live with her mum.
‘Not much to say,’ she began. ‘I’m just back for a break from work.
It’s fine but all a bit full on this year and I had loads of time to take.
’ As she spoke, she realised that was all she felt ready to share at the moment.
Gillian broke off another piece of croissant which she chewed thoughtfully. ‘Oh, don’t let me down. Please give some nugget of information which allows me to believe you are living the dream in London.’
Jessica sighed heavily. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’ Lifting her cup, she took a sip. ‘It’s all work, work and more work with demanding, entitled clients who think they’re the most important people in the world.’ The muffled sounds of other customers chatting occupied her mind for a moment.
‘Oh, Jessica. You need to give me something. Have you not got a hot man hidden away there?’ She gave a wicked grin. ‘Or several?’
Jessica laughed heartily, and then the small stab of pain flickered again at her heart.
‘No, not any more. I was seeing someone this time last year. But that all kind of ended suddenly. He, um . . .’ She gave a dismissive wave with her hand.
‘He wasn’t who I thought he was. There hasn’t been anyone since .
. .’ She didn’t really want to get into the details of what had happened to Tim.
The last thing she needed was for Gillian to feel sorry for her.
‘Well, no time like the present for a wee Christmas fling while you’re back.’ Her eyes crinkled mischievously.
‘Anyway, we’re not here to chat about my love life or lack of. Tell me about you and your love life — and the bakery. What’s happening?’
Gillian drained the rest of her coffee. ‘Oh gawd. Well, my love life debrief will take exactly two seconds. Nothing is happening there.’
‘It must be hard, trying to meet anyone when you don’t have a lot of time.’
Gillian shrugged. ‘I did go on some online chats and made plans to meet up with someone in Glasgow. But then I had to cancel because Mum couldn’t babysit and she quickly lost interest.’
‘You know if you want me to look after Millie, I would be more than happy to.’
‘Thanks,’ she said gratefully. ‘But flying up from London to babysit is perhaps a wee bit extreme.’
Jessica laughed suddenly, feeling a bit foolish at her rash offer. She had to keep reminding herself that she lived in London now and was just here for a visit. ‘What about work then?’
‘Well, for that I will need another coffee.’ She stood up. ‘Same again?’
Jessica nodded and waited for Gillian to order and come back to the table.
‘It’s just nice to chat. Thanks, Jessica, for listening.’
As they drank their coffees, she told how the weeks leading up to Christmas were traditionally some of the bakery’s busiest and most profitable.
But that during these past few months, there had been one drama after another and sales were being impacted.
Gillian had been doing as much as she could to help Struan, who owned the business and was the main baker, but he wasn’t getting any younger and told her most days that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep going.
He was always complaining about the early starts, the rising cost of ingredients, and all the admin that came with the job.
‘I feel for him, I really do, but the thought of no bakery in the village is awful. It has always been such an integral part of Rowan Bay. And now . . .’ She choked back a small sob. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘What are the options then?’ said Jessica, watching Gillian grip the sides of her coffee cup.
Gillian shook her head sadly. ‘Believe it or not, staying in the village was never one of my life ambitions. It was really hard to move back here after living in Glasgow but I was on my own and Millie was just a baby. You know, I think back to those days when I was heartbroken and terrified at the prospect of being a single parent and becoming homeless and jobless. Moving back here was the best thing I could have done at the time. Then lockdown happened and I was stuck. But the job with Struan was a lifeline. It gave me the chance to earn my own money again, knowing that Millie was in safe hands with my mum. I’m so grateful to Struan for all that he’s done to help me these past few years and hate to see him so stressed.
He told me the other day that he was at breaking point. ’
‘And could he take anyone else on?’ said Jessica, leaning forwards and steepling her fingers together.
She nodded. ‘Yes, he did actually. He hired an apprentice baker who did an amazing job but then left to go travelling. Prior to that his head baker, Carl, decided to return to Germany after the implications of Brexit began to cause him visa-related stress.’ She closed her eyes briefly and sighed loudly.
‘I wish I could do more to help but I’m not sure what the answer is.
Struan has been running the business for almost twenty years.
I think he’s just completely scunnered with it all.
And if things don’t turn around by the end of the year, then he’ll close the bakery, and from a selfish point of view, I will be out of a job and the hub of Rowan Bay will be gone.
’ She paused. ‘That’s what bothers me most of all.
Some of our older customers come in every day and buy something.
They might only want a scone or a sausage roll but going to the bakery each day gets them out and gives them a purpose and the chance to meet up with other villagers.
What about the local businesses we supply too?
’ She lowered her voice. ‘This café and the Rowan Bay Inn? What will they do? And we’re the only place that does takeaway coffees.
They tried it here but it didn’t work. They don’t have the capacity. ’
Jessica listened silently and watched Gillian as her shoulders slumped and her eyes dulled.
Her mind was also whirring as she thought about options and ways in which she could help.
Being back in the village had reignited her sense of nostalgia and she wanted to help.
She wasn’t yet sure how or what she could do.
She had some work contacts she was going to call, not that she’d tell Gillian any of this quite yet.
‘Don’t despair. Sometimes things have a way of working out. ’
Gillian looked at her with a tight smile as though to say, aye and pigs might fly.
‘Let’s keep our fingers crossed for a Christmas miracle,’ said Jessica brightly.
‘Don’t you worry,’ Gillian said drily. ‘I’ve already written to Santa and told him what I’d like for Christmas this year.’
Jessica briefly placed a hand on Gillian’s. ‘Just don’t rule anything out yet. How about I come in and help out?’
‘Really?’ Gillian’s eyes widened in disbelief.
‘Yes. I learned how to bake bread a few years ago. And I’m keen to utilise my skills.’
‘But you’re here for a break.’
Jessica chuckled. ‘You know my mum and what she’s like . . . There’s not much chance to sit still in our house. She likes to run a tight ship and delegate tasks. Seriously, I would love to help. You’d be doing me a favour too.’
‘How?’
‘It will give me something to focus on. Volunteering will be good for me. And get me out of my mum’s way.’
Gillian squealed and jumped out of her chair to hug Jessica. ‘You’re on!’
Jessica grinned. She couldn’t wait to get started.