Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
I t was a scorching hot day when I first met Noah all those years ago. I was thirteen and already bored. I was only two days into the school summer holidays, which didn’t bode well. I’d been sat on the rock down on the beach in Blue Cove Bay for most of the day. Dad was busy in his bakery and Frankie had gone to Scotland to see his father.
I didn’t know Noah up until this point. He’d always gone to a different school. There was another reason why Noah and I had never met; the nasty rift between our two fathers which had started at a wedding reception a few months after Mum had died. I can remember Dad swinging a punch at Dave Coombes by the bar. Women screamed as Dad and Dave wrestled on the floor. I was led away by Rose and taken back to her house. When I asked Dad the next morning about his puffy purple eye and bloodied lip, he said we were never to mention the name of Dave Coombes ever again.
So, there I was, on that sunny day, sucking on my cola ice pop, swinging my legs over the side, and watching tourists wade out into the azure blue sea. Above my head seagulls were playing a noisy game of chase and below me tiny children were squealing with delight as they toddled over the sand. I didn’t notice the yellow haired boy shimmy up my rock and plonk himself down beside me.
When he tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Hello, my name is Noah, ’ all I could think about was my swimsuit. Up until the age of thirteen I’d not given two hoots about my body or my choice in swimwear. On the day I met Noah, I’d squeezed myself into my old pink frilly swimsuit from BHS which Rose had bought me. It was my clothing item of choice back then in the summer holidays. Rose had bought it for me when I was a beanpole. The summer I met Noah puberty had given me some unexpected wobbly bits. Let’s just say the costume was a little tight. But I didn’t care.
The moment I saw Noah everything changed. It was as though someone had flicked an invisible self-conscious switch inside my head. He stared at me with his summer sky blue eyes and then reached up to scratch his mass of golden hair, which reminded me of Rapunzel’s hair from the fairy books I used to read as a child. His caramel tanned face and his cheeky boyish grin which swept across his mouth gave me a strange sensation in my tummy. My hands went into a frantic search for my towel. I didn’t want him to see me in my costume. To my dismay my Barbie towel had slipped off the edge. It was a nightmare. Tucking my legs up to my chin I inched towards the edge in the hope I could climb down and run away.
A few days later Noah told me he was Dave’s son and that his father had forbidden him to go near any of the Hiddleston family. It was then I admitted to being Brian Hiddleston’s daughter. Neither of us knew why there was so much hatred between our two families. Seeing each other became a thrill. It was exciting and my heart used to break into a wild gallop whenever I saw Noah coming across the beach towards my rock. We both knew one day our friendship would lead to trouble, but we didn’t care.
Those familiar summer blue eyes are now studying my face. His once golden hair is now heavily flecked with brown, and his smooth caramel tanned skin is host to a few crinkles. ‘Alice?’ He gasps. ‘I can’t believe you’re here.’
History is repeating itself. All I can think about is my outfit, my old grey jogging bottoms, my faded Levi’s T-shirt, and my tatty Converse. Lifting my hand, I touch my hair. I can’t remember the last time I brushed it or washed it for that matter. God knows what’s he’s thinking about my dishevelled state.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ I say, flicking my eyes to the floor. This is embarrassing. Here I am talking to Noah Coombes: the person I have been thinking about for twenty years.
‘How are you?’ His eyes are studying the bruise on my head.
‘Good,’ I lie, wiping my clammy hands on the top of my jogging bottoms. ‘I’m back living with Dad.’ I stop myself. Noah Coombes will not be interested in my life story.
Frankie clears his throat and we both turn back to him. ‘This is awkward as you both have offered to run this place.’
My shoulders are stiffening at the sight of Frankie nervously glancing between Noah and me. Surely, I should get first refusal? I am his best friend, and he knows how much stress and heartache Noah has caused me. He cannot give the job to Noah Coombes. I need this job. ‘Frankie,’ I say, casting him a sugary sweet smile. ‘Can I have a word… in private?’
Noah gestures towards the leather booth opposite me. ‘I’ll be sat over there.’
Once he’s out of earshot, I lean over the bar. ‘What is he doing here?’ I hiss.
Frankie studies my forehead. ‘What the hell have you done to your head?’
‘I had a fight with a camp bed.’ Gingerly I feel the lump with my fingers.
‘Noah’s looking for work. He has moved back.’
‘Please tell me you’re not considering him over me?’ I am now giving Frankie one of my death stares. ‘He’s been back here for five minutes. Don’t I deserve some best-mate loyalty after what he did to me when I was sixteen?’
‘Alice, you and Noah split twenty years ago,’ whispers Frankie, glancing at Noah and then returning to me. ‘You were kids back then. No one knows what they are doing at sixteen.’
Grabbing the sleeve of Frankie’s T-shirt I pull him closer. ‘This job is perfect for me. You can go to Sydney, and I can help pay Dad back.’
Frankie frowns. ‘Pay your dad back for what?’
I exhale a long stream of air. ‘He took out that loan to pay for my wedding. Look, I think you need to give me the job.’
My heart is thudding. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Noah staring at me. ‘Frankie,’ I beg. ‘Give me the job.’
Frankie scratches his thatch of blond hair. ‘Alice, you have a broken heart for starters. You’re also emotional and capable of causing all sorts of havoc.’ He picks up a cloth and wipes down the counter. ‘Anyway, you’re still managing Ronald’s tea shop.’
Grabbing a pink napkin, I dab at the layer of sweat on my forehead. ‘He’s closing the Starfish on Friday. Going abroad with his latest love interest.’
Frankie reaches out and places his hand on my shoulder. ‘Sorry, Alice.’
‘I can manage this place. My emotional state will not interfere with anything.’
Frankie’s perfectly trimmed brown eyebrows climb up his forehead. ‘This is a romance-themed café,’ he explains. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it will be for you? Remember the youth club discos when we were teenagers and everywhere you’d look there would be couples snogging – well this place is like that. It’s not the sort of place for someone with a broken heart. Also, you keep telling me you would go crazy if you worked here.’
My cheeks are heating up. ‘So, you’re going to give the job I want… and need… to him then?’
‘Go sit down and let me think,’ mutters Frankie, massaging his temples and avoiding my angry scowl.
With a huff I turn on my heel to face Noah. He smiles and points to the empty seat opposite. ‘Sit down.’
We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity. In my head I have a multitude of questions I want to ask him, but my brain is reminding me of how he broke my heart. Noah is fiddling with a red heart-shaped menu, so I’ve glued my eyes to the varnished wooden floorboards.
Behind our booth a woman is telling her boyfriend in a loud voice that she can’t wait for their wedding in three weeks. The word ‘wedding’ makes me shrivel up inside. She sounds like I did when Scott took me for a romantic Italian meal before his stag do. I made the same high-pitched squeal. Tears prick my eyes and I blink them away. Scott’s face flashes into my mind. My mind cruelly transports me back to the scene when I walked into our bedroom.
Inside me a battle is waging. Half of me wants to get out of my seat, lean over her booth and warn her against getting married. The other half is restraining me. Frankie won’t give me the job if I start talking customers out of their plans to wed.
Frankie appears at our booth. ‘I’ve made my decision.’
A triumphant grin slides across Noah’s face. It makes my blood boil. He thinks Frankie’s going to give him the job. If Frankie gives Noah the job of managing this place, we will fall out.
Frankie places a hand on my wrist and one on Noah’s arm. ‘I’ve decided to make…’
My heart comes to a juddering halt as Frankie pauses and hangs his head.
‘Both of you managers.’
‘What?’ Noah and I flick our heads towards Frankie.
Frankie’s emerald green eyes are dancing with excitement. ‘You both can manage this place and I will go to Sydney to look after Mum.’
‘Why are you making both of us do this?’ I say, glaring at Frankie. ‘Why couldn’t you just let me manage it?’
Noah’s blue eyes have widened with surprise. He’s staring at me.
Sliding himself next to me in the pink leather booth Frankie forces me to move up. ‘Alice, it will be fun for you, getting to know Noah again.’
My mouth has fallen ajar at Frankie’s suggestion. Anger is coursing through my veins and my cheeks are burning. Has Frankie got amnesia? Has he forgotten about how long it took me to get over Noah Coombes? Does he not remember how for six months after Noah left, I played the good (pretend) wife and wrote to my (pretend) husband in Ireland even when he wasn’t replying to me? Doesn’t Frankie remember how I started dating Pete to make Noah jealous in Ireland and then stayed in a relationship for far too long with the guy? I know we’re all adults now but surely Frankie will take my side.
I hope Noah doesn’t remember me writing to him about Pete. Deep breaths, Alice.
Noah Coombes is the last person on this planet I want to get to know. ‘But I don’t want to get know to Noah again .’
Noah raises his hand. ‘Frankie, let Alice run the café. I’ll find some other work.’
I turn to Frankie, fold my arms, and wait for him to put things right.
‘No, Alice will be managing this place with you, Noah.’
I let out a wail of frustration. Tugging on Frankie’s T-shirt sleeve I shake my head. ‘No, no, no, no.’
‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, Alice.’ Frankie’s reply infuriates me.
Noah gets to his feet. ‘Look it’s been nice to catch up with you both. I’ll see you around.’
Frankie reaches out and grabs Noah. ‘Please, mate. Do this for me.’
Noah hangs his head and sits back down.
‘Right then.’ Frankie rests his elbows on the table. ‘You will both look after this place and that’s final.’
Opening my mouth, I try to say something, but Frankie looks up at the ceiling and places his hand in a prayer pose. ‘Thank you, God, for supplying me with two willing volunteers to look after my café, and I’m sorry for pretending to be a man of the cloth on the beach when I married them both all those years ago.’
I look away and ignore Noah’s attempts to catch my eye.