Chapter 29 #2
Iris folded her hands neatly in her lap. ‘If you decide to stay in Mapleville, your memories of the life you left behind will fade in time, like dreams upon waking. It will become distant and then forgotten. The coffee smooths over the seams.
‘And in Longmill . . . well, who knows?’ She gave a small shrug. ‘Everything will carry on without you. Your thread might loosen from the tapestry, but it won’t unravel the whole.’
Greta’s mind whirled with possibilities. This wasn’t like choosing a nice holiday. She was potentially leaving behind her existing life and the people she loved.
However, the same people were in Mapleville. And they seemed happier there.
‘And I get the chance to choose when I arrive there?’ she checked.
Iris nodded. ‘Yes. But be warned. This decision is a big one. The choice won’t be easy.’
Greta imagined waking each morning to the promise of a perfect day. In Mapleville she’d be part of a community, surrounded by people who were kind, cheerful and supportive, like Millie, who offered her genuine friendship.
The thought of living as a ‘perfect version’ of herself wasn’t about vanity.
It was about feeling valued and having a sense of purpose.
She would no longer have to struggle and endure the self-doubt that plagued her life in Longmill, where she felt caught between a fading past and an uncertain future.
The idea of a life where she finally found her place was tempting, even seductive.
Edgar had mentioned that he’d made the wrong choice. Had Iris also given him the chance to stay elsewhere? Had he regretted his decision?
‘So, it’s like closing one chapter and starting a new one? If I choose to?’ Greta said.
‘Yes.’
Greta let the idea settle, turning it over like a pebble in her hand.
If she moved on from Longmill, would that mean an end to her guilt, her worry for her family’s happiness, and her own perceived failures?
A magnetic force seemed to be pulling towards a different life.
Mapleville shone irresistibly bright in her mind.
Her life could be like a coffee commercial. All the time.
‘To be clear, you have two choices,’ Iris said.
‘You can wait until the New Year to drink your usual blend, then visit Ma- pleville on a temporary basis, like before. Or, you can drink an enhanced version of the coffee now—one that will allow you the opportunity to stay in Mapleville permanently. If you choose to do so.’
Greta chewed her thumbnail. She really couldn’t wait until New Year.
But the updated version of the coffee sounded unknown.
Risky. The last time she’d messed with the recipe, she’d encountered glitches, including the shark.
Did Iris know what she was doing? The old woman could only influence the coffee so far.
Then it was out of her hands. It reflected a version of Greta’s own thoughts and desires.
‘You don’t have to drink the new blend, Greta,’ Iris said, her gaze unwavering. ‘No one is making you do it. You also have the option to walk away from everything here. Don’t drink the coffee. Forget that this shop exists. Go home and enjoy your everyday life . . .’
Greta curled her fingers into fists, her thoughts swirling with a chaotic mix of desire and fear.
‘On the other hand, you came here searching for the perfect blend,’ Iris added. ‘You begged me for help. And I’m offering it to you . . .’
‘I know,’ Greta whispered. ‘I still want it.’
The two women locked eyes, unspoken thoughts passing between them.
‘When I drink the coffee, I usually wake up back here,’ Greta said. ‘What will happen this time?’
‘I’ll add an ingredient that allows you stay. There’ll be warning signs when the effects of the coffee are wearing off. That’s when you need to make your decision—to return here, or to stay for good.’
Greta’s brow creased. ‘What kind of warning? How do I decide?’
‘I’ve told you before. I don’t control the narrative. I can’t predict what will happen. It will be your responsibility to watch for the signs. Do you understand?’
Greta’s lips twitched. Her family, her life . . . everything she wanted was in Mapleville, within her reach. All she had to do was say yes to the new coffee. ‘And if I don’t notice the signs?’ she asked.
Iris rapped the table with her palm. ‘Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to make the choice.’ She paused. ‘So, do you want to go ahead? Or not?’
All the options twinkled in Greta’s mind like stars coming out in a darkening sky. This was like an audition for a new life, to see if she wanted the part. Did she really have anything to lose?
‘Well?’ Iris said, standing up. ‘What do you want to do?’
Greta loosened the neck of her sweater with a finger.
The room felt too warm now, oppressive rather than welcoming.
She suddenly wanted to get out of here. To go somewhere comforting and free.
The magnitude of the decision felt crushing, and she made up her mind.
‘I want to drink the new coffee,’ she said.
‘I want to go to Mapleville. Right now.’
Iris nodded and moved across the shop, climbing her ladders to retrieve a couple of jars from the shelves. She tipped the existing ingredients of Greta’s jar into the mortar, then added some new ones, too. The sound of her pestle grinding was hypnotic, each twist sounding like a countdown.
Finally, Iris tipped the mixture back into the small jar. She brought it over to the booth and laid it out alongside the cup, the saucer, and the hot water, just as before.
Greta stared at the white rabbit on the label with fear, hope, and longing weaving inside her.
Iris watched her carefully. ‘Now you just have to make the right wish.’
Greta picked up the jar, her fingers trembling, sensing all the possibilities it held. Her decision felt monumental. Wonderful if she got it right. Catastrophic if she got it wrong. ‘I’m ready to drink the coffee,’ she said finally.
Iris handed her the jug of hot water.
Greta sprinkled one spoonful of the new coffee blend into the glass pot. Pouring in hot water, she watched it swirl. After it had brewed, she raised the cup to her lips, savouring a faint smell of aniseed. Then she took a first sip. ‘It tastes sweeter,’ she said. ‘Nicer.’
Iris nodded. ‘Now, say your wish out loud. Just like before.’
Greta stared into the chocolate-brown liquid.
Her first time in Mapleville had made her feel confident and beautiful again.
During her second visit, Jim and Lottie had been the best versions of themselves.
The third time, she had stepped back into the spotlight, only to realise she didn’t want it any longer.
So, what now?
She drank her coffee, finishing half of it, knowing the moment was approaching.
Her fourth and final wish.
Greta waited for something to come to her naturally. Not something she wanted, but something she needed.
And when her words eventually came, they felt right.
‘I wish . . .’ Greta began, as the rabbit on the jar gave her a wink, possibly for the last time ever.
‘I wish to know where I truly belong.’