Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
N oah and I agreed that Thursday would be his day off in the week and I would have Monday as mine. It’s my first day without him and so far, it’s been bliss… apart from the woman who complained about her Cuddle Muffin being cold and the couple who left me some handwritten feedback on a napkin which read, to the miserable woman behind the counter – you should smile more!
I’ve not missed Noah and his annoying ways at all. I’ve thought about him and our past a lot, but I think I’m still processing him being back.
The woman on table ten is still sat by herself. She’s gazing at the beach out of the café window. Her date has not arrived. ‘Is everything okay?’ I ask.
She looks at me. ‘I don’t think he’s coming.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I say. She casts me a weak smile. I slide into the seat opposite her with my back to the café door. ‘Has he not called you or texted?’
She shakes her head. ‘No. The last I heard from him was yesterday when he texted me to tell me the date and the time. He’s half an hour late. I think he’s stood me up.’
‘What a dirt bag,’ I exclaim, feeling all my pent-up anger over my failed relationships rise inside of me. ‘Relationships should come with a health warning. They’re not worth it. I’ve had my heart broken so many times, there’s a giant crack in it.’ The woman has an odd expression. I ignore her. ‘Does your scumbag of a date have a name?’
‘I’m sorry,’ says a male voice behind me. ‘Did you just call me a “scumbag”?’
I shoot out of my chair to find a man glaring at me. He looks at the woman. ‘Sarah, I’m sorry I’m late. Let’s go somewhere else. Don’t think I want to give this place our business.’
Feeling embarrassed, I hide behind the counter.
Pam, the cake supplier, bustles in after lunch and introduces herself. The first thing I notice is her beautiful light silvery hair piled on top of her head. It glistens under the ceiling light. She gestures to it. ‘I’m embracing my grey hair. No more hair dye.’
‘It’s stunning.’
She smiles and touches a flyaway wisp. ‘My ex-husband hates it.’
‘He has no taste,’ I say, which makes her laugh.
Her coffee-coloured eyes are encased in a weary purple shadow, and I can see she’s trying to suppress a yawn. ‘Can you open the door at the back of the café? Frankie always lets me do that. My van is ready to be unloaded.’ She wipes her sweaty forehead and groans as her phone vibrates in her pocket. ‘I wish everyone would leave me alone.’ She casts me a weary smile. ‘Do you ever have days like that?’
I give her a knowing smile. ‘All the time.’
She takes out her phone and shakes her head. ‘If he is phoning me with another issue I am going to scream.’ After rubbing her forehead, she yawns. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to yawn. I didn’t sleep very well last night.’
I want to reach out to her and say I am having a bad day too, but I keep it to myself. Pam drops off her new batch of cakes and cookies and hurries away.
Later, after closing the café, I walk back home along the beach. The afternoon had been hard. My resentment today at seeing other people happy and in love resulted in three drink spillages, two customer complaints about my poor service and an argument with a newlywed couple after I accidentally dropped their Cuddle Muffins into their laps.
Taking in a deep breath of salty air I gaze out across the rolling marine blue sea. I wonder how Frankie and Rose are doing in Sydney. My heart aches as I think about Rose and Frankie and the gruelling treatment ahead of them.
Under my breath I whisper Frankie a message which I hope the wind will somehow carry to him. ‘Even though working with Noah is proving tricky, you don’t have to worry about your café.’
My mind nudges me about the customers who have complained about my service and an uncomfortable feeling takes hold of me. It will be fine , I assure myself. The first week was bound to be difficult. Once Noah accepts I don’t need or want his help, we will be fine.
I take out my phone and send Frankie a WhatsApp message.
Thinking of you. Everything is good here.
On the promenade I can hear raised voices coming from the gift shop. The voices belong to the owners, twins, Joy and Esme. Ten years ago, they inherited their family’s gift shop.
Joy and Esme used to be in the year above me in school. Joy spent most of her time at school bossing Esme around. Frankie and I never liked the way Joy treated Esme, so we took Esme under our wing and tried to make her see that she could stand up to Joy. Our guidance didn’t work.
Esme, Frankie and I have stayed friends. Esme is one of the sweetest people I know. When Frankie’s dad left Rose, Esme would leave little wrapped chocolate gifts on his doorstep. When Noah left for Ireland, she left me tiny bunches of flowers and when Lucas was born, she bought him a Babygro with the words , ‘I Love Blue Cove Bay’ across it.
‘Esme, it’s time we both moved on,’ says Joy, in her usual authoritative tone. ‘This family gift shop has been a weight around our necks for years.’
I stop and stare. Esme loves that little gift shop. She’s the one who runs the place as Joy is always out socialising. Inside it’s a seaside gift oasis and sells everything from rustic wooden boat and lighthouse decorations, telescope keyrings, sticks of Blue Cove Bay rock, sweet smelling candles, fridge magnets to seaside-themed jewellery and crockery. Recently Esme redecorated the little shop. It has a nautical blue coloured front and a new window display which recreates Blue Cove Bay. To hear Joy say that about the gift shop will devastate Esme. I take a few steps closer as I want to make sure Esme is all right.
‘Joy, that’s not true,’ an emotional Esme cries out. ‘Please think about this. I love working here.’
‘I’ve made my decision,’ declares Joy, ‘we’re closing this place and moving away. Esme, you know I’m the one with the business brain.’
My mouth falls open in shock. Why the hell is Joy selling up?
‘I don’t want to go elsewhere,’ Esme cries. Hearing my friend sounding distressed makes me walk toward the door.
‘In years to come you’ll thank me for rescuing you from this place,’ shouts Joy.
‘If I have to, I’ll run this place myself,’ shouts Esme, making me flinch. In all the years of knowing Joy and Esme I have never heard Esme say something as bold as this to her sister.
Joy’s peal of laughter rings out across the promenade. ‘ You are going to run this place by yourself?’
‘Why is that funny, Joy?’
Silence descends upon the gift shop. I reach the doorway and knock. Joy yanks open the door. ‘Alice,’ she says, before glancing over at Esme.
I crane my neck and wave at Esme. She gives me a thumbs-up and I step away. A few yards down from the gift shop I wait by a bench for a few minutes in case Joy decides to shout at her sister again. There’s nothing but the lapping of the sea and the noisy seagulls. Taking out my phone I send Esme a message .
Hope you are ok – you know where I am if you need to chat x.
Pete is on Dad’s doorstep when I get back.
‘Hi, Alice,’ he says, running a hand through his curly black hair. ‘Your dad invited me over for tea.’
Lucas’s loud cheer, at the sound of his father’s voice, is followed by him thundering down the stairs. He flings himself at Pete. Lucas’s goofy happy face makes a lump balloon in my throat. He leads Pete into the living room by the hand and then wrestles with him on the sofa. Even though relations between Pete and me are sometimes strained, I do enjoy seeing Lucas with his father.
Pete holds aloft a giggling Lucas. ‘It is time I did more with Lucas. Now that you’re working, Alice, it might be a help for you?’
His announcement makes me a take a step back in surprise. This is unexpected. Ever since Lucas was born Pete’s been more of a hands-off father. I wasn’t in a relationship with Pete when I got pregnant with Lucas. We’d broken up a few years before Lucas arrived. Lucas was the result of a drunken one-night stand after a karaoke night at a pub in town. In our drunken haste we’d forgotten about contraception.
Initially Pete and I tried to make ‘us’ work again for the first year of Lucas’s life, but Pete enjoyed going out too much and I realised I didn’t love him. He took it badly and went to live in London for two years. In that time, he barely saw Lucas. When we lived in Surrey, Pete saw Lucas every few months. Since we’ve moved back, Pete has changed and has Lucas overnight every fortnight, but he’s made it clear that’s his limit.
Tonight Pete has swapped his usual dishevelled T-shirt and faded black jeans for a fitted blue shirt, tucked into fitted beige trousers. It also looks like he’s tamed his wild black curls which have always had a life of their own. ‘I heard you were helping Frankie out at The Little Love Café. How’s it going?’
‘It’s okay,’ I say, taking the armchair opposite while Lucas cuddles up to Pete. ‘A bit of a steep learning curve.’
‘I hear Noah is back.’ Pete’s face has darkened. ‘How is it working with him?’
Loosening my ponytail, I release my hair. ‘Odd.’
Pete ruffles Lucas’s curls. ‘I bet it is after all this time.’
Dad bustles in with a tea towel flung over his shoulder. His face immediately brightens at the sight of Pete. ‘Hello, Pete.’ Dad rushes over to give Pete a warm hug. ‘Good to see you.’ Dad has never recovered from Pete and me splitting up. He has always idolised Pete and in his eyes, Pete can do no wrong. Even when Pete went to London, and we didn’t see him for two years Dad still didn’t have a bad word to say about him.
Pete stands up and grins at Dad. ‘I’m going to do more with Lucas. Take him to school and pick him up.’
Dad’s face breaks into a huge smile as though someone has just told him he’s won the lottery. ‘That’s the best news I have heard all year.’ He drapes his arm across Pete’s shoulders and turns to me. ‘Isn’t this great, Alice?’
Lucas runs to hug Pete and the sight of them all beaming at me tugs on my heartstrings. They all look so happy together and it doesn’t take long before guilt eats away at me.
‘You’ve got a nasty hole in your jogging bottoms,’ observes Pete as we head to the dinner table for tea.
I shrug and sit down.
Dad smiles at me as he puts a plate of sausage and chips in front of me. ‘Isn’t this nice. Us all eating together.’
After Pete leaves, Dad takes me aside. ‘Pete’s a good man, Alice. It would make me the happiest man alive to see you two back together again.’
‘Dad, I don’t want to get back with Pete.’
He touches my arm. ‘Lucas asked me the other day why he has a mummy and a daddy who don’t live in the same house.’
Riddled with guilt, I put Lucas to bed and read him an action hero story. At first, he complains that the hero of the book is not Batman, but I am persistent and eventually he lies back and listens. After I stop him from picking his nose, he points to the main character and tells me, ‘He’s like my daddy.’ Stroking his forehead, I smile as his eyes close, and he gives me a sleepy grin. Silently I apologise for all the disruption I have caused him in his little life, and for not loving his daddy.