Chapter 40
Later
GRETA HAD NEVER been good at painting (except the flowers on her vase in Mapleville), but there was something satisfying about the steady strokes of the roller as she painted the interior walls of Brewtique in a warm terracotta shade.
She gradually covered all the stark white that had made the place feel so cold and lifeless.
The neon coffee cup sign sat in a box, ready to be donated to a charity shop.
She, Jim and Lottie had worked tirelessly over the past couple of weeks to update the coffee shop, and the job was almost complete.
Vintage posters now adorned the walls, resembling brightly coloured postage stamps from a distance. On the back wall, Jim had crafted wooden shelves from reclaimed planks, sanding and varnishing them to enhance the natural grain.
Greta had arranged stoppered jars on the shelves, complete with labels written by Lottie in a swirly hand. They contained Arabica, Robusta and Liberica beans, as well as other ingredients like vanilla pods, nutmeg and star anise. One jar, perched high on the top shelf, held dog biscuits.
With Josie’s approval, Greta had struck rhubarb and custard lattes off the menu.
The window display had been sparse, so Greta had reached out to Edgar, who’d scoured his stock in Barker’s Treasures to find several vintage coffee grinders and even a white rabbit ornament with yellow eyes.
He took the task very seriously and relished his role as Brewtique’s new supplier.
He insisted on giving everything to Greta for free, claiming he needed to streamline his inventory anyway, and that Eliza would approve of things being put to good use.
In return, Greta had promised him cake and coffee on the house whenever he visited.
Bit by bit, Brewtique was becoming the kind of coffee shop Greta loved to visit—warm, welcoming and unique.
Now that Josie had Greta’s help, it allowed her more time to practice baking cakes for the shop, starting with a signature rocky road. All the ingredients and food stock were being delivered later that week. For the time being, the fridge remained empty and the kitchen cupboards bare.
The grand re-launch was scheduled in a couple of weeks. Greta and Josie would cut the ribbon, and Greta had already contacted Nora to see if any local celebs might be interested in attending.
She’d also sent a small note to Leonard and Millie—an invitation to the event, or just a quiet coffee sometime, if that felt easier.
Leonard had replied with a brief but warm message. He and his mother were still getting to know each other again, taking it day by day. He promised to be in touch when the time was right. In the meantime, they both wished Greta every success.
Greta had read the message several times over, her heart lifting each time. It sounded like Millie remembered her, and she couldn’t wait to see her again.
‘Josie’s even thinking about a name change, instead of Brewtique,’ Greta told Jim as they tidied around, making sure the tables and chairs were arranged just right. ‘Maybe something to do with time. We’re both giving it some thought.’
Jim stepped back to survey the room, taking it all in with a satisfied smile. ‘The place looks fantastic. You’ve really brought it to life.’
‘We’ve all brought it back to life,’ she said.
Greta placed her hands on her hips, admiring their work. Perhaps it was possible to look at the past in a way that also embraced the future. ‘We’re making great strides with upstairs, too,’ she said. ‘Who knew Lottie would be such a dab hand with a paintbrush as well as with animals?’
Jim laughed. He climbed up the stepladder and fastened a red fringed lightshade in place. ‘What do you think?’ he asked, dusting his hands together.
Lottie came downstairs, and she and Greta gathered beneath the lightshade, looking up.
‘Hmm. The big gold chandelier at the Anvil Inn made more of a statement,’ Lottie said before breaking into a grin. ‘Only joking . . . this one looks great.’
Jim climbed back down the ladder, looking pleased. ‘Good.’
Greta took off her apron and folded it into a small square. She reached out and plucked a shaving of wood from Jim’s hair, then pointed out to Lottie that she had a smear of paint on her cheek.
The Perks weren’t the family they’d once been—the glossy version who made you think drinking coffee could make your life perfect. But who needed that kind of pressure anyway?
Greta now thought that love and acceptance weren’t about trying to recreate the past—they were about finding a way to move forward together. No promises. No guarantees. It would take time to figure things out and for them to follow new paths, but they were all willing to try.
‘I think we’re finished here for today,’ she said, picking a fleck of paint out of her own hair. ‘How about we go and grab a coffee? My treat.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ Jim replied.
The three of them walked through the park together, the tips of their noses shining red from the crisp January air. The snow had cleared, leaving only traces of white in the flower beds where snowdrops were beginning to push through.
Greta wasn’t entirely sure where they were heading, so it wasn’t a surprise to find themselves veering in the direction of Iris’s coffee shop.
As Christmas and New Year had come and gone, Greta had found herself thinking about the unusual coffee shop less and less.
Any side effects from Iris’s coffee had faded.
But as she drew closer to the place, anticipation stirred inside her.
Would the shop still be there in all its eccentric glory?
Or would it appear run-down and unloved?
‘Remember that flyer in my car promoting the perfect blend?’ she said to Lottie. ‘It was for a coffee shop around here.’
Lottie peered along the street. ‘Yeah? Where?’
‘You’ll see,’ Greta said, eager to show Jim and Lottie the inspiration behind Brewtique’s new décor.
As they approached the space between the launderette and newsagent, Greta slowed her pace. She let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.
‘What’s so funny, Mum?’ Lottie said, looking around. ‘There’s nothing here.’
Greta stood still, taking in the desolate area. Iris’s coffee shop was nowhere to be seen.
Jim’s jaw hinged open as he scanned around, too. ‘But that’s not possible,’ he said. ‘The building was right here.’
‘I know,’ Greta said quietly.
‘Oh, come on,’ Lottie said with an exaggerated shrug. ‘I know you guys are actors, but this is ridiculous.’
‘Ex-actors,’ Greta corrected her.
The three of them stared at the patch of deserted ground. Weeds had taken over, and a broken bike lay abandoned.
‘What was the perfect blend anyway? Lottie asked. ‘Some kind of fancy coffee?’
‘Something like that,’ Greta said. ‘If you drank it, it made your wishes come true.’
Lottie burst out laughing. ‘Now you’re just making things up.’
Greta paused. She supposed it did sound like a fairy tale. She would never have believed it herself if she hadn’t experienced it.
‘Are we going somewhere else for coffee?’ Jim said, eyeing the space with a shiver. ‘This feels even weirder than last time.’
Greta wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, or to accept that Iris and her shop had completely vanished.
She gazed around one more time and noticed something fluttering—a piece of paper trapped under a stone.
Stepping closer, she picked it up. It was a faded flyer with a faint illustration of a white rabbit.
The space for the address was blank, perhaps washed away.
She handed it to Jim, and he shook his head with a frown.
‘Come on, Mum, let’s go,’ Lottie said, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘It’s cold out here.’
‘Okay. Just a minute,’ Greta murmured. Something else had caught her eye, nestled amongst a crop of dandelions. Approaching it, she held her breath.
Could it be . . . ?
She crouched down and gently picked it up.
A jade mortar and pestle.
Greta turned the mortar over in her hands, its pale green surface glinting in the weak daylight. There was a note taped to the bottom.
Use Wisely.
Greta’s fingers tingled as she held the cool jade. Was it a reminder? Or a gift?
The shop might have disappeared, but Iris had left something behind—to help mix and create. Maybe magic wasn’t about coffee and wishes after all. Maybe it was about blending the past and the present—l ove and ambition, reality and hope.
Her mum had always said a cup of good coffee could fix most things, and Greta liked to think that was true. There was something comforting in carrying little pieces of her mum’s wisdom forward, even in something as small as a mortar and pestle.
Greta carried them over to show Jim and Lottie.
‘What’s that?’ Jim asked.
Lottie peered around his arm.
‘I think it’s a present from Iris.’ Greta held up the small bowl, catching a faint scent of aniseed on the breeze. Or perhaps she imagined it. ‘She used this to mix her coffee blends.’
Jim gave a small nod. ‘Maybe she thought you could use it . . .’
‘I wondered the same thing, too,’ Greta said, pleased they were both on the same page. She placed it carefully in her handbag, glad it was her roomy old leather one rather than her tiny Mapleville handbag.
She linked arms with Jim and Lottie.
‘Come on,’ Greta said brightly. ‘Let’s go and get a cappuccino.’
* * * * *
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