Chapter 52
TARA
Two and a half months later
The Chocolate Pot’s fifteenth birthday fell on a Monday which might not be the obvious evening for a night out but I wanted to celebrate on the exact date I’d opened for business.
I was so glad I’d enlisted Nia and Clare to organise the event because I’d never have found the time myself as every spare minute had been devoted to the plans around our new home at Lighthouse Retreat and whatever else it became.
Sheila and I had done the catering but Nia and Clare had dealt with everything else from the invites to the décor.
They’d ploughed through documents at the library and in the town’s museum and created a picture board showing the premises and Castle Street over the past century which had been fascinating to see and were a great discussion point for the guests.
Even though Michael didn’t usually photograph people, he’d offered his services as official photographer for the evening.
Staff past and present, regular customers, friends, family and anyone else I could think of who’d been part of my journey since arriving in Whitsborough Bay had been invited and I’d been touched by how many accepted.
With so many guests expected, Carly had made two cakes – one in the shape of the original chocolate pot from my childhood which had inspired the café’s name and one in the shape of a lighthouse.
I’d shed a few tears when she and Liam unveiled them before the guests started arriving.
‘Everyone’s got a drink now,’ Nia said. ‘Ready to make your speech?’
She clipped a microphone to the front of my dress and slipped the mic pack into my pocket.
‘Good evening, everyone,’ I said, and waited for the chatter to cease.
‘Thank you all for coming out on a Monday night to celebrate The Chocolate Pot’s fifteenth birthday.
I look around this room and I see so many friends of the business.
Some have been with us since the very start and others have joined us more recently. ’
My eyes met Krystal’s and she raised her glass and smiled.
After her visit during the Easter holidays, we’d kept in regular contact and those seeds of friendship we’d both felt had grown strongly.
Jed and I had finally booked our weekend away and had chosen Suffolk, visiting Krystal and Benedict’s smallholding while we were there and returning full of ideas and inspiration for things we could do for teens in need.
‘Some of you have worked here in the past,’ I continued, ‘and some of you work here now and The Chocolate Pot wouldn’t be here celebrating fifteen years if it wasn’t for everyone in this room playing their part to support this dream I had of managing my own café one day.
I’m so grateful to you for making that dream come true so my first toast is to all of you. Thank you.’
I watched everyone sipping on their drinks, butterflies swirling in my stomach ahead of the big announcement I was about to make. My team, my family and my closest friends knew already, but most of the guests would be hearing the news for the first time and I knew it would come as a shock.
‘I love The Chocolate Pot. It’s never just been a business to me – it’s been my home, my safe space, my sanctuary – and it has been a privilege to spend the last fifteen years making it a happy place for customers to pass some time.
My hope is that it’ll continue to thrive for the next fifteen years and the fifteen after that but it’s time for someone else to take the lead on that.
I’m stepping down as manager from the start of September and handing over the reins to the brilliant Maria Fernández-Bailes. Give everyone a wave, Maria.’
Maria stood on her tiptoes and waved to the guests.
‘Maria has been my Sunday manager for years and we’ve been co-managing The Chocolate Pot since the start of the year so she’s the perfect successor for me.
We’re looking for an assistant manager to support her and my team already know that applications are welcome internally.
We’ll also be looking for a junior chef to work alongside Sheila because I won’t just be stepping down as manager – I’ll also be hanging up my apron.
It’s been an incredible fifteen years and, much as running the café still makes me so happy, the thing that truly makes my heart sing these days is helping others.
I’m expanding Project Hercules – a mentoring and life coaching programme I set up for students – into other colleges, I’m going to be doing more with The Friendship Pod and continuing to work with The Hope Centre while exploring other opportunities to make a difference in this amazing community.
‘It’s not a complete goodbye from me as I’ll cover holidays and illness and I’ll still be doing the drinks for the traders’ Christmas lights switch-on, which I couldn’t imagine not doing.
I think it’s time for me to stop talking now but can I finish with a second toast to The Chocolate Pot and the next fifteen years? ’
I beamed round the guests as they repeated the toast and I was about to remove the microphone when Maria called out, ‘Not so fast, Tara!’
She approached the counter and I noticed she was already connected to a mic pack so this was evidently a planned interruption.
‘I’m Maria and, although I’m really excited about assuming overall management of The Chocolate Pot, I’m also a bit terrified.
As anyone who has ever worked with Tara knows, she is incredible.
She’s the fairest, kindest, most inspiring boss I’ve ever had and I’ve learned so much from her.
We wish we could keep her here forever but we know she’s needed elsewhere and apparently kidnapping is illegal so we have to let her go. ’
She paused as everyone laughed.
‘Seriously, though, we’re going to miss you so much, Tara, but we can’t wait to see what you do next although we’re glad it’s not a complete goodbye.
We’ve got some gifts for you but can I ask everyone to raise their glasses again first?
To Tara, who won an award for being outstanding because she is outstanding. To Tara!’
A mixture of emotions overwhelmed me as the toast was echoed and everyone smiled in my direction.
I had a lump in my throat from such kind words but I felt as though I could burst with joy too.
I remembered Maria turning up at the café eight years ago, pregnant and desperate for a job and, even though she came across as moody and standoffish, I recognised her cry for help and offered her a couple of shifts.
I’d had no vacancies at the time but I’d felt compelled to help her and she’d turned out to be an exceptional manager who I knew I could trust with my beloved business.
I was so proud of her. We’d spoken in depth about the future of The Chocolate Pot and, while it was a dream opportunity for Maria to be the full-time sole manager, she and Marc hoped to expand their family next year and she didn’t want to leave me stuck by accepting the position then going on maternity leave.
I was thrilled for them both and there was no way I wanted them to change or put their plans on hold for me.
Our solution – which we weren’t making public – was for me to take some time out to focus on the plans for Lighthouse Retreat, giving Maria space to get established as the sole manager.
By providing holiday cover down the line, I’d be able to adjust to any changes she’d made, making it easier to step back in as manager if and when she went on maternity leave.
Sheila presented me with a bouquet of flowers and Molly and Lexie handed over several gift bags and a huge card while everyone clapped and whooped. Opening the card, I felt overwhelmed by the number of signatures and the messages. It would take ages to read them all.
‘How about we put this lot on the stairs to your flat for you to look at properly later?’ Sheila suggested and I smiled gratefully as I handed over the keys.
Sheila was another reason I couldn’t step away completely.
Despite her eagerness to work the early mornings while her husband Eric was out fishing, I knew it would be temporary.
Sheila wanted to retire in a few years’ time and, even if we found a great trainee chef who wanted to stick around, they couldn’t work seven days a week.
I’d be needed back in the business when Sheila was ready to hang up her apron.
It was such a wonderful evening full of laughter and friendship.
Clare and Nia had placed a large glass bowl on the counter beside some pens and a memo block.
Guests were encouraged to write down anything about The Chocolate Pot that made them smile – from a special memory to a favourite food – and drop their note in the bowl.
There were more pieces of paper in there each time I passed and I looked forward to reading all the entries later.
Some guests shared their memories with me in person too and I was on the brink of tears several times as I heard about special occasions celebrated, final visits with a beloved friend or relative who was no longer with us, and even a marriage proposal.
The Chocolate Pot meant the world to me but it clearly meant the world to many of my customers too and, in Maria’s capable hands, I knew it would continue to do so.