Chapter 7
ALYSSA
‘Mum, what are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you this morning.
’ Alyssa’s mum, the very glamorous Dorinda Canavan, popped into the café maybe once a week, and even then, it was usually only because she wanted a quick cuppa or some free cakes to take to whatever client she was trying to woo.
Working as an estate agent gave her lots of flexibility, especially now that she was a freelance agent for a national franchise, with no office to report to every day.
‘I took the day off because I was doing showings all weekend, and I was on my way to the nail salon for a touch-up when I saw your grandad trudging here, so I gave him a lift. Ridiculous a man of his age being out in this weather.’
Just at that, her grandad, Hugo, came through the doorway, after kicking his boots against the step to get rid of the snow.
Alyssa shook her head in her grandad’s direction. ‘Grandad, I told you I’d come and pick you up. Why were you walking?’
Hugo shrugged off his anorak. ‘Because my coat is warm, my legs still work perfectly well, and maybe a man just wants to enjoy a bit of snow. That used to be the biggest excitement of the year when I was a boy.’
There wasn’t really any arguing with that. Her grandad had every right to live his life however he pleased and if that meant taking a walk in the snow, that was up to him.
‘Good morning, ladies! How are we all doing on this fine day?’ Hugo greeted Jessie, Val and Cathy, and got a rousing chorus of ‘Good morning, Hugo’ in return, before Val added, ‘I was just saying to Jessie earlier… I remember when we would all make sleds out of scraps of linoleum and head up the Weirbridge hill when it snowed like this…’
This was exactly why Grandad loved working here.
He was sixty-nine, a few years older than Jessie and Val, but all the born-and-bred villagers knew each other and enjoyed their memories.
If Alyssa had a pound for every time she heard a sentence that began, ‘Do you remember when we used to…’ she’d be able to buy out her frigging landlord and own this building.
The thought made her wince on the inside.
She couldn’t close the café. Not just because she had poured her heart and soul into building her business, but because as well as it being her favourite place and a much-loved, invaluable hub for the community, it was a lifeline for her grandad too.
What would he do without all this chat every day?
Apparently, her mother didn’t feel the same about her father’s employment status, because as she followed Alyssa back behind the counter at the far end of the room, she hissed. ‘As I’ve said too many times to count, I don’t know why you humour him by having him work here.’
Alyssa felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. ‘I don’t “have” him work here, Mum. I’m grateful that he works here, and he enjoys it because he doesn’t want to be at home all day. He loves it here. And I love that I get to spend time with him. ’
No matter how many times Alyssa had told her mother that, it still hadn’t sunk in, probably because Dorinda would never understand the relationship between her daughters and her father.
Grandad had been the only male presence in their lives, because their dad hadn’t been around.
Even now that she was an adult, Alyssa didn’t know the full details, only what she’d gleaned from overhearing stories and the crumbs of information that Dorinda would let slip when she’d had a champagne or two on special occasions.
The bottom line was that village life hadn’t been enough for Dorinda, so she’d gone off seeking adventures with a travelling salesman that she’d met at the golf club, but that hadn’t worked out and she’d returned after a few years, when Alyssa and Ginny were toddlers.
She’d brought the guy – Alyssa and Ginny’s dad – back with her, but he hadn’t lasted and he’d taken off, never to be seen since.
There had been countless other men after that.
Alyssa didn’t even want to think about the gossip that must have caused, but she hadn’t realised it when she was a kid, because these things were never discussed.
As far as she was concerned, she’d had a perfectly happy childhood, with their gran, Effie, and grandad taking care of them while their mum worked, or socialised, or nipped off to Marbella for a week with a new man.
Her grandparents had never judged or complained, and the girls had just assumed all families worked that way.
And besides, Grandad was brilliant at helping with their homework and Gran was a great cook, so it was a win-win.
Gran had been proud as punch when the café had opened.
If she hadn’t passed from pneumonia a couple of years ago, Alyssa knew she’d be here now too, baking up a storm in the kitchen.
But there wasn’t time to linger on that right now, because Dorinda had zeroed in on her daughter’s face. ‘Are you coming down with something? You’re far too pale and your eyes are bloodshot. ’
Another zinger of support from her darling mother. On any other day, Alyssa would just shrug it off and it wouldn’t even make a dent in her mood, but not today. Not when her head was still scrambled from the letter she’d opened this morning, saying they wanted to take away her café and her home.
The first thing she’d done was let Ginny read it. Her sister’s initial, jaw-dropping gasp of ‘Fuckers!’ had just about summed it up.
Next, she’d called the lawyer’s office. No answer. She’d called again every five minutes until 9a.m. when someone had finally picked up the phone.
‘Good morning, you’ve reached Huntington Farrell. How may I direct your call?’ Just the sound of the woman’s superior, officious voice had made Alyssa’s teeth clench.
‘Can I speak to…’ She’d scrambled for the letter and then checked the signature at the bottom. ‘Jeremy Sprite.’
A pause.
‘I’m afraid Mr Sprite is in a client meeting all morning. Can I ask what it’s regarding and have him return your call when he’s available?’
‘Yes, my name is Alyssa Canavan. I received a letter from him this morning about the lease on my property.’
‘And the property address is…?’
Alyssa had rhymed it off, then added her phone number, before going on, ‘It’s just that I think the letter must be a mistake.
Or maybe not, because there was a clause in my lease that would indicate it isn’t.
’ She knew she was rambling, and the woman at the other end of the phone would have no idea what she was talking about, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop speaking.
It was probably for the best that the woman cut her off.
‘Miss Canavan, I’ll have Mr Sprite phone you when he’s free. Thank you for your call.’ And with a click, the line had gone dead.
Over at the range, Ginny had been listening the whole time, while stirring a huge vat of minestrone soup into a frenzy. ‘So what do we do now?’
Alyssa wished she had a more productive answer other than, ‘Nothing. We wait. Look, don’t mention it to anyone, especially Grandad. I don’t want to worry him.’
Now that her grandad had come in happy and positive as ever, that sentiment was even firmer.
She wasn’t going to mention it to her mother either, not when she was already on the offensive.
The last thing Alyssa needed right now was her mother’s input on her disaster.
She hadn’t wanted Alyssa to open a café in the village in the first place, extolling the virtues of going out into the ‘big bloody world out there’ and ‘exploring life outside this mind-numbing bubble of boredom’, so this definitely had the potential to ding the bell at the top of her mum’s ‘Told You So’ scale.
Alyssa instinctively picked up a cloth and began to clean the already pristine counter. She had taken so long to answer her mother’s question, she’d almost forgotten what it was. Something about her being pale and ill.
‘No, Mum, I’m fine.’
She didn’t add the more authentic ‘distraught, shocked, terrified, worried and feeling sick to my stomach’. ‘Fine’ would do for now.
‘Well, maybe try a bit of fake tan in the mornings. I’ve got a coconut one that I just spritz on my face after my shower and it works wonders. I’ll give you the name of it and you can pick one up in the chemist. Make you look a bit less peaky.’
Before Alyssa could answer, Ginny came shooting out of the kitchen behind them. Saved by the sister. ‘Team, we have a problem. A huge big fricking problem. ’
Noooooo! Alyssa clenched her jaw, and pursed her lips as she made warning eyes at her sister. Yes, they had a huge fricking problem, but hadn’t they agreed not to share it yet?
‘What’s that, dear?’ their mother asked, before turning back to Alyssa. ‘Don’t do that frowny thing, Alyssa, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.’
Alyssa wondered how long she’d have to bang her own head off the temperamental, clapped-out coffee machine before she induced a coma.
‘The buses are off!’ Ginny blurted. ‘And I’ve got my final interview in town in an hour.
’ Ginny’s big break – a role as an acting coach at the drama and music school Ollie Chiles had founded for underprivileged kids.
She had her heart set on it and had already been for a preliminary audition that focused on her acting and singing talents, but this was the last stage in the process, a meeting with a panel of people who ran it.
True to form, their mum didn’t even attempt to conceal her disinterest in Ginny’s panic. ‘Ah well, I’m sure they’ll understand. This weather is terrible today. You can just rearrange it.’
‘No, I can’t, Mum! If I fall down at the first sign of a challenge, what does that say about me?
This job is teaching drama in a theatre school – there are going to be loads of obstacles to overcome.
If there are three or four people after this job and I’m the only one that can’t get there, they’ll shred my application. ’
Alyssa watched as their mother finally showed a pique of interest, but quickly realised it came from a place of self-interest.
‘Is this the one at the academy that Ollie Chiles set up?’ Mum asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before going on.
‘By the way, I showed his mother a perfect house before she moved here, but she chose to go with a flat down by the river. Terrible choice. Anyway, you should definitely go then, darling, and if you’re speaking to him, you could drop in that the manor house over in Burnbank has just come up for sale and he’d be perfect for it.
’ Burnbank was the next village, just a mile or so down the road.
‘Give him my details and I’ll set up a viewing for him.
It would be a great long-term investment property and it’s just five minutes from his mother, too. ’
Alyssa was torn between relief that Ginny wasn’t spilling her secrets, and the urge to point out that not everyone felt that being in close proximity to their mother was a good thing. She kept her mouth closed.
‘Great! So will you give me a lift there?’ Ginny asked, her body sagging with relief and gratitude. But only for a second.
‘Oh no, Ginny, I can’t. I mean, first your grandad, and now you – I’m not a taxi service. Besides, those roads out there are treacherous. Can’t you do it, Alyssa?’
‘Mum, I have a café to run, and Jessie’s party to prep for tonight… Ginny, you can borrow my van and drive there if that helps?’
Ginny clearly reached the obvious conclusion that nothing was going to change their mum’s mind, because she was now looking at Alyssa with pleading eyes.
‘I can’t! I’ve never driven in the snow and it’ll lead to certain death if I try.
I can barely manoeuvre that van around the village on a sunny day.
Please drive me there, Alyssa. I swear I’ll give you my first-born child.
Or… or… my boyfriend! Yes, you can have Caden. And his spectacular abs.’
Alyssa opened her mouth to object, but as she did, another idea dropped in.
Something her mother said about investment properties.
This café had to be a decent investment for the owner of the building, because she knew he’d owned it forever.
That probably meant there was no mortgage on it and her rent money was pretty much pure profit.
Maybe his estate, or his family, or whoever had inherited this building didn’t realise that she intended to stay here for the long term, and perhaps if they knew that they might understand that it could bring them a guaranteed ongoing return.
Maybe she just had to give them all the information.
And perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone.
Besides, she couldn’t sit around and wait for someone to call her back.
Not when she could go and see the lawyer and ask him to put her in touch with the relevant people so that they could talk.
Negotiate. Contrary to popular opinion, she truly believed that most people were fundamentally decent and had good hearts.
If her landlord’s family heard her story, hopefully she could persuade them to change their minds, or at least to extend the notice period so that she had time to come up with some other plan.
‘Okay, Mum, if I take Ginny into town, could you stick around for a couple of hours and help Grandad?’
Cue horror and immediate objection. ‘But I’m getting my nails done.’
‘Mum, please. You can see how important this is. I doubt anyone will be coming out today anyway.’
Alyssa hadn’t realised that Jessie was passing them on the way to the loos, until she spoke. ‘I can hold the fort for you, love. I was only going to get my hair done anyway. And it’s the least I can do with you giving up your night tonight to let us have the party here.’
Alyssa was about to gratefully decline Jessie’s very kind, but too generous offer – she couldn’t let one of her favourite people give up her plans on her birthday and very last day in the village – when her mother must have suffered an out-of-body experience, because she suddenly changed her tune and blurted, ‘No, it’s fine.
Of course, I’ll do it. You two nip off and I’ll just move my appointment to later. ’
For the first time since she’d opened the letter, Alyssa felt a surge of hope. Her mother was being uncharacteristically nice. All she needed now was for her former landlord’s family to be decent people with good hearts.
Surely that wasn’t too much to ask?