Chapter 4
Lauren retied the strings of her blue and pink striped apron and picked up her order pad.
She didn’t often write things down – since the café was so small it was easy to double-check with a customer if she forgot something – but she liked to carry it with her, just in case.
It was a kind of security blanket and gave her something to do with her hands if she felt nervous or out of her depth.
This, she knew, was a hangover from her school days, when she’d hidden behind a library book at lunchtime, keeping out of the way of anyone who might seek to make her teenage life more difficult.
A shy, introverted child, she’d always found mixing with people a challenge, and she tended to have to ‘rehearse’ social situations.
The café allowed her a safe haven to interact with people.
She’d been loading the dishwasher behind the counter with plates from a couple of tables she’d cleared as the bell on top of the door tinkled, so she hadn’t had the chance to greet the new customers with a smile.
She’d quickly remedied that with a cheery ‘Hi’ and saw them settling themselves at the table by the window: a man and two young boys.
She observed them more closely as she walked the short distance from the counter to the window.
Lauren loved people-watching. Far happier behind the scenes than out on stage, café life had provided with her with ample opportunity.
The cheery, surface-level interactions with customers allowed her to connect without having to give too much of herself away, and she enjoyed seeing their reactions to the delicious treats she brought to them.
As she drew closer to the table, she could see the man’s profile.
A strong nose and a stubble-flecked jawline, slightly tanned skin and a mop of unruly dark hair made for an attractive combination.
He was dressed in a dark blue woollen coat, which he’d draped on the back of the chair, and was removing a deep burgundy cashmere scarf from his neck.
As he turned to put it over the coat, she saw dark brown, long-lashed, rather tired-looking eyes, with a fine scattering of crows’ feet at the corners.
‘Here,’ she said quickly, ‘let me hang those up for you. There are some hooks by the door.’
‘Thanks.’ The smile he gave her was brief, as he handed her his coat and scarf.
‘If you like, I can hang up the boys’ coats, too.’
‘Oh, they’ll be all right.’
Hurrying back to the door, Lauren quickly placed the items on one of the brass coat hooks. As she did so, she caught the scent of a sandalwood-infused aftershave, mixed with the smell of the winter weather. It made her heart beat faster. Feeling jolted by her reaction, she walked back to the table.
‘So, what can I get you?’
‘A latte for me, please, and two small hot chocolates.’ The man glanced up from the menu and gave her a brief smile, but it seemed to vanish as quickly as it had arrived on his lips.
‘Anything else?’
‘Cookies!’ The boys spoke as a duo, and Lauren realised, as she looked at them fully for the first time, that they were identical twins.
‘And would that be two double chocolate chip cookies, or would you like different ones?’
The boys looked at each other and then one of them spoke. ‘Same, please.’
Lauren’s eyes shifted to the man again. ‘Am I okay to take that as an order?’ She gave him another smile.
The man nodded. ‘Sure. But make it three. My brother says the cookies from here are really good.’
‘That’s great to know.’ Lauren’s smile grew a little wider at the compliment. ‘It’s my mum’s family recipe.’
A slight shadow passed across the man’s features at her words, and Lauren wondered if she’d said something wrong. ‘Um, is that all for now?’
‘Yeah. Thanks.’ He turned his attention back to the boys at the table who, judging by their dark eyes and dark hair, were his sons.
Lauren swiftly prepared the drinks and used the tongs to put three cookies out on matching blue and white china dessert plates.
As she did so, she glanced back at the customer and his sons.
The kids were chatting away to each other, and the man seemed content to let them.
Part-time dad? Divorced fathers often popped into the café with their offspring after a walk around the lake.
When she was satisfied that she’d made the perfect hot chocolates, complete with whipped cream, marshmallows and Flake sprinkles, she carefully carried the tray back to her customers.
‘Here you go.’
‘Thanks.’ The man gave her another smile as she placed the drinks and cookies in front of them.
‘So, what brings you to Hope’s Café? Are you here on holiday?’ Lauren had crafted a careful list of small-talk questions in the year she’d run the café. A natural introvert, chatting to strangers didn’t come easily to her, but she knew she had to try to make people feel as welcome as possible.
‘Er, no.’ The man reached for his coffee. He didn’t look as though he was going to elaborate. Lauren took the hint, but as she was about to turn back to the counter, one of the boys chimed in.
‘We live in the house on the lake,’ he said, before reaching for one of the cookies and stuffing it into his mouth.
A shiver of surprise caught Lauren off guard.
Thanks to Mollie, she knew the house had recently been sold, but it seemed like the last place anyone with young children would want to live.
Achingly remote, removed as it was from the centre of the village, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had lived there.
‘Well, welcome to Lower Brambleton!’ She forced a note of jollity into her tone. ‘I hope you like living here.’
He nodded but didn’t reply. Lauren melted back to the counter but glanced over to the table from time to time. There was something familiar about the guy, and those two little boys were adorable.
‘Lauren, when you’ve got a sec, could you do me another cappuccino?’ The voice of another customer, local novelist Sam Parker, who lived in the nearby village of Everscombe, broke into her reverie. Sam spent a lot of time in the café, but he did at least pay for the free Wi-Fi in coffee.
‘Sure thing, Sam, coming right up.’ Lauren busied herself with the cappuccino, adding one of her trademark designs, this time a festive holly leaf and berries silhouette, to the top. She brought the cup over to Sam’s table, which was the closest to the counter.
‘I hear that poor man lost his wife,’ Sam murmured quietly. ‘Imagine… being left with two boys and buying that place by the lake. That’s a tragic story in the making right there.’
Fortunately, the conversation from the other occupied tables in the café drowned out Sam’s imaginative ramblings. Lauren might have been thinking the same thing about the lake house, but she wasn’t comfortable voicing it. Sam, it seemed, had no such reservations.
‘Who told you that?’ she asked in an undertone.
‘My next-door neighbour. She heard it from Mollie Wakefield the last time she popped into the shop. Apparently, his brother is the owner of the estate agent’s a couple of doors down from here, you know, Noah Hathaway?’
‘Large Americano, hot milk added after?’
Sam looked quizzical.
‘Sorry – I remember coffee orders better than names!’
‘Now there’s an idea for a novel. Mister Americano meets Miss Latte on a park bench in Leicester Square after mistakenly mixing up their backpacks in the local café. Hmmm…’
Lauren laughed. Sam often brought out the daft in her.
She glanced back towards the new guy and his sons, who still seemed to be enjoying their drinks.
How awful for them, to have lost someone they loved.
A flare of sympathy made her eyes prickle as she looked again at the two beautiful children.
They were too young to suffer that grief.
‘Well, now you’ve given me an idea, you’d better leave me to it before I make you bring another slice of that glorious Christmas cake over. My waistline can’t take the temptation!’ Sam grinned up at her.
‘Well, there are a couple of bits left if you change your mind!’ Lauren drifted back to the counter and put Sam’s empty mug in the dishwasher. When she turned back around, she saw that the man and his sons were getting ready to leave.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ she said as the customer went to bring their cups and plates to the counter.
‘It’s no trouble.’ He swiftly gathered up the crockery and as he went to put them on the counter, Lauren reached out and took the plates from him. A little jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them as their fingers touched.
‘You’re very kind,’ she stammered. ‘But honestly, it’s fine.’
He held her gaze for a moment, and Lauren noticed what a handsome face he had. Perhaps it was just the recent memory of what Sam had told her, but her heart started to beat faster.
‘Um, if you need anything, you know where we are,’ she said. ‘It must be hard work, moving into a new place, especially with kids to consider.’
He smiled at her. ‘Thank you. The cookies and hot chocolate seem to have done the trick. Before we came in, these two were fighting like cat and dog.’
‘I’m Lauren, by the way. Lauren Hope.’
‘As in Hope’s Café?’
‘Yup! Original, isn’t it!’ Lauren gave a nervous laugh.
‘Marc. Marc Hathaway. And these two are Luca and Liam, my sons.’ Marc gestured to each boy.
‘It’s lovely to meet you. I hope you’ll be very happy in your new home.’ As soon as she said it, Lauren regretted it. How could they be happy, if what Sam had told her was correct?
Marc, however, must have been used to conversations like this. ‘Thank you. I’m sure we will be.’ After paying his bill, he said goodbye and left the café.
It was only when Lauren went to wipe down the table that she realised one of the boys had left their gloves.
The small, green, fleece pair had slipped down between the wall and the table and were sitting forlornly behind the table leg.
Inside, clearly in preparation for school, was the name Luca Hathaway.
Hurrying out into the street before any other customers could come in, Lauren figured the best course of action would be to drop them into Noah’s shop, but when she got to the door she could see he’d shut up for the day.
The air was already chilly, and she wondered if Luca would have a spare pair of gloves at home.
If he didn’t, he was going to feel the cold the next time he ventured out.
Putting the gloves by her phone so she wouldn’t forget, she resolved to pop them back to the lake house when she closed up later.