Chapter 10
TARA
I was loading the dishwasher in the café kitchen on Friday afternoon when another of my part-time students, Molly, poked her head round the door.
‘There’s a lass at the counter asking for you. Says her name’s Zoe.’
My heart leapt. She’d come! ‘Brilliant! Can you get her settled at a table near the back and tell her I’ll be with her in two minutes?’
It was usually quieter at the back of the café so it would be easier for us to talk there. I loaded up the last few pots, washed my hands and went to join Zoe. She had her arms folded across her body and her head was bent forward, her long dark hair obliterating her face.
‘Hi, Zoe,’ I said, my voice bright. ‘I’m Tara.’
She looked up. ‘Jim said you wanted to see me.’
I sat down on the chair opposite her. ‘Yes, I did, but can I get you a drink before I explain why?’
‘A glass of tap water?’ she suggested and I realised I should have made it clear I wasn’t expecting her to pay.
‘I can get you water, but we’ve got a big range of soft and hot drinks including a stack of hot chocolates. There’s no charge. I’m going to have a butterscotch hot chocolate so I can get you one of those or a different flavour or a different drink.’
‘I’ve never had butterscotch hot chocolate.’
‘It’s divine.’
She smiled at me for the first time. ‘In that case, I’ll try one of those, please.’
‘I’ll be right back.’
Not wanting Zoe to feel uncomfortable by sitting on her own for ages with no idea why she was here I asked Molly to prepare our hot chocolates while I filled a glass with tap water.
‘Thanks for stopping by,’ I said, placing the water on the table in front of Zoe and sitting down once more. ‘I appreciate it probably feels strange to be summoned by a random stranger so let me tell you a bit about me so we’re not strangers anymore.’
She visibly relaxed, which was a relief as I’d never done anything like this before and was completely winging it.
‘So, my name’s Tara Porter and, this summer, I’ll have owned The Chocolate Pot for fifteen years.
I’m not from Whitsborough Bay. In fact, I’d never even been here before but some bad things happened to me and I needed to drop everything and get away fast. I sat in a petrol station, opened up a map, closed my eyes and let a pen decide where I’d start over. ’
Zoe’s eyes widened. ‘Is that true?’
‘One hundred per cent. I was twenty-two at the time and scared of leaving but staying in London near the people who’d hurt me wasn’t an option.’
‘I’m not from Whitsborough Bay either,’ Zoe said.
Even though I knew that from Jim, I took the cue, hoping she’d open up further.
‘Aren’t you? Where was home for you?’
‘Teesside, but I’ve been working my way down the coast. My granny and grandpa brought me and my sister to Whitsborough Bay for a week when I was ten – best and only holiday I’ve ever had – so I always wanted to end up here. I arrived at the end of the summer.’
‘Sounds like you have lovely memories from here. I’d have loved to visit when I was a kid. There’s so much to do.’
‘We had such an amazing time. They hired a static caravan and said they’d do whatever we wanted so we spent most of the week at the beach and in the arcades. We loved playing that donkey derby game – the one where you throw balls up a slope and your horse moves forward when they drop in a hole…’
I nodded my head to indicate I knew the game she meant. Her eyes were shining and it was clear to me how happy those memories were.
‘This one was actually camels rather than donkeys,’ she said, ‘and it was so much fun. Grandpa was brilliant at it and he won me this enormous pink teddy bear. I called her Princess Candy Floss but…’ Her expression darkened and she lowered her eyes, the story unfinished.
Molly appeared with our drinks and, after she’d gone, I asked, ‘Where are your grandparents now?’
‘Dead. Grandpa had inoperable brain cancer. It was the reason they booked the holiday, although my sister, Jacey, and I didn’t know it at the time. He died three months later and Granny died a few years after that.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
Zoe picked up her spoon and stirred her hot chocolate with a sigh. ‘It was awful. They were both so nice to us. I miss them.’
I wanted to ask about her sister but I remembered what Jim had told me about not asking too many questions. Besides, Zoe still had no idea why I’d asked her to stop by so I’d probably better focus on that.
‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.
I’ve had a connection with The Hope Centre for several years and I helped with Christmas dinner.
I was looking round at everyone enjoying their food and I spotted you and there was something about you that reminded me of myself when I came here and, strange as it might sound, my gut told me I might be able to make a difference to you. ’
‘In what way?’
‘I’ve got a few ideas but I’m conscious we don’t know each other so I don’t want to cause any offence by making any assumptions about what you might want or need.’
‘I don’t expect anything from anyone.’ Although she said the words quietly, there was a defensive edge to them, which I could completely understand.
‘I get that. Like I said, I don’t want to make any assumptions. Jim mentioned that you like books.’
‘I love books. I spend a lot of time in the library and the staff are really nice to me. They let me read whatever I want and it’s warm in there.’
I had so many questions about where she spent the night but they felt intrusive and would detract from the point of our discussion. I’d stick with books for now.
‘I love reading too. What sort of books do you like?’
‘Absolutely everything – crime, horror, romance, historicals, fantasy, the classics – and I like non-fiction too, especially autobiographies. I’ve always been a really quick reader so I get through stacks of books. My dream is to work in a bookshop…’
She smiled and I imagined she was picturing what that would be like, and then the smile faded.
‘…but that’s not gonna happen. Got to have experience to get a job and who’s gonna give me that?
People take one look at someone who’s homeless and assume they drink, do drugs, steal…
’ Her voice steadily rose and it was obvious to me that she’d had first-hand experience of those reactions.
She looked around, wide-eyed, and lowered her voice. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to get loud.’
‘It’s all right. How would you feel about working a few shifts here? Obviously you wouldn’t be working with books, but it’d give you experience of customer service which might help you get your dream job.’
The wide eyes were back. ‘Why would you do that? Like you just said, you don’t know me. You don’t know whether I can be trusted.’
‘Can you be trusted?’
‘Of course, but—’
‘Do you – and I’m quoting from you here – drink, do drugs, steal?’
‘No!’
‘That’s everything I need to know for now. It wouldn’t be many hours – or at least not at first. What do you think?’
I could almost see the cogs whirring and I was sure she was on the brink of saying yes, but her shoulders slumped and she shook her head.
‘I’d love to but I can’t.’
‘Can I ask why?’
‘It wouldn’t work. Thanks for the drink, but I’ve got to go.’
She pushed back her chair and hastened out of the café. It took all my willpower not to chase after her. Jim’s words were strong in my head about how pushing the service users typically resulted in pushing them away and I feared I’d already gone too far.
With a sigh, I picked up her barely touched hot chocolate and took it and mine through to the kitchen.
As I tipped Zoe’s drink down the sink, I kicked myself for handling it badly.
My intention had been to draw from her what she might need from me rather than jumping in with a solution as though I was some great benefactor here to fix everything for her.
Her words circled round my mind: Why would you do that?
You don’t know me. No, I didn’t know her and I’d imagined I did because I’d seen something in her that reminded me of myself.
That wasn’t knowing Zoe. That was projecting myself onto her and making the kind of assumptions I’d been determined to avoid.
It hadn’t been an outright disaster but her walking out was hardly a success story.
The problem was, I wanted to help her more than ever now and I knew that meant I’d made the biggest assumption of all – that she actually wanted or needed my help.
If she really was anything like me when I’d fled from London, the last thing she’d want was anyone else’s help.
Back then, I hadn’t trusted a single soul and had been fiercely determined to do everything on my own, to live on my terms. I’d built protective walls around myself and it had taken me fourteen years before I let them come down.
No, I didn’t know Zoe, but I could pretty much guarantee that she’d built walls too and, instead of coaxing her into lowering the drawbridge, I might have just fired a canon at them.
With a sinking stomach, I also realised that I hadn’t offered her a hot meal and I’d specifically told Jim that was my intention and to tell Zoe that.
So not only had I messed up the conversation, I hadn’t even kept my promise.
She’d probably left the café thinking I wasn’t just an interferer but a liar too.
Great start! I’d have to hope that Zoe thought about my offer and came back to The Chocolate Pot with a change of heart, at which point I could apologise and ask if we could start over.