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‘Too much?’ Penny lifted her face away from the mirror propped up on top of the chest of drawers and turned towards me, pouting her cherry-red lips at me. I was sitting cross-legged on her bed, applying a coat of mascara using the shaving mirror from the bathroom. Penny and I shared a flat so my own bedroom was only next door, but it was more fun to get ready together, our favourite music blasting from the CD player.
I was twenty-two and living away from home for the first time and I’d honestly never had so much fun. Yes, the bills were a pain and the discovery that there wasn’t a washing-up fairy (or a laundry or toilet-cleaning fairy) was a shock to the system and I was constantly plagued with pangs of guilt at leaving Dad on his own, but living with Penny was amazing.
We’d met six months earlier, at the call centre where we attempted to coax people (who neither liked being disturbed or being coaxed) into buying double glazing, and we’d gravitated towards each other. Penny was so fun and vibrant, it was hard not to smile when she was around and she seemed to enjoy my company too. We quickly became best friends and when Penny’s flatmate moved out, I took his place. Not only did I get to live with my best friend, the flat was a short walk to the Deansgate call centre where we worked, which saved on travel costs.
‘You look fierce,’ I told Penny as she pouted at me. She’d spritzed her usually frizzy ginger hair with some kind of magical potion that had given her bouncy, shimmery curls, applied a perfect eyeliner flick and finished off the look with a glossy cherry-red lipstick.
‘That’s exactly the look I was going for,’ Penny said, attempting an air of uber-confidence but spoiling the effect with a self-conscious giggle. ‘Do you think I’ll finally pull Jack?’
Jack was our team leader at the call centre and Penny had a major, major crush on him. We were getting ready for a night out with the team to celebrate his birthday so Penny had made an extra special effort, both with her hair and make-up and the super-clingy, super-low-cut dress she’d bought that afternoon.
‘He’d be mad not to fancy you,’ I told her, which made her go all giggly, which in turn made me go all giggly.
We finished getting ready and then made our way to the pub to meet the others. Penny made a beeline for Jack, flinging her arms around him and giving him a birthday kiss on the cheek that branded him with a bright red lipstick mark. We had a couple of drinks before we moved on to a club, where Penny pulled Jack onto the dance floor. I followed, dancing with some of the other girls from the team while Penny worked her magic on Jack. It was a good night, a proper let-your-hair-down kind of night with lots of dancing and laughing and team bonding. My feet were in agony as my shoes slowly murdered them and I was sure I’d have a killer hangover in the morning, but I didn’t care.
‘Oh my God. He is gorgeous.’ Penny had hauled herself off the dance floor for refreshment purposes and we were at the bar, trying to catch the attention of the harried bar staff. ‘He makes Jack look like Quasimodo.’ I followed Penny’s wide-eyed gaze and understood what she meant as I spotted the object of her lust. Tall and muscular without being too bulky, he was throwing back his head as he laughed, his blue eyes sparkling despite the dim lighting of the club. Wow. Just wow. He was stunning.
‘Hey, Pen.’ Jack – without a hunchback, despite Penny’s assessment – draped an arm around her waist and pulled her away from the bar. ‘Come and dance. I love this song.’
‘Grab me a drink!’ Penny yelled as she was towed away and I nodded before turning back towards the blond God. But he was gone and I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of his retreat through the throng. Not that I’d have followed in pursuit. Why would a man like that look at me?
Eventually, I managed to buy our drinks and I headed to the perimeter of the dance floor in search of Penny and Jack. They weren’t difficult to spot, entwined in the middle of the jiggling bodies, feasting on each other as they gyrated to the music. They were still devouring each other by the time I finished my drink so I made a start on Penny’s. There was no point in wasting it, after all.
I’d perhaps had a little more to drink than I should as I started to feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. My feet weren’t quite so co-ordinated as I made my way up to the loos and I found myself stumbling on the last couple of steps that led back down to the bar. A hand grasped me by the elbow, keeping hold until I was steady on my feet again.
‘Hey, are you okay?’ Oh, God. It was the gorgeous blond and he was looking at me with concern, which wasn’t quite the look I’d wished for. ‘Every time I see you, you’re in trouble.’
‘Sorry?’ I moved – carefully – away from the staircase, my eyes scanning for Penny. And then something clicked. I’d seen him before, months earlier. ‘Oh, it’s you! The Blue Llama. You rescued me from that sleaze.’ It had happened six months ago and he remembered me? How odd. ‘Did I even say thank you?’ I’d been so shaken at the time, I hadn’t properly registered him (otherwise I’d have noted how gorgeous he was, obviously) so I doubted I’d shown an ounce of gratitude.
‘There was no need,’ he said with a shrug.
‘There was.’ I couldn’t believe how rude I’d been. That sleazy bloke could have done anything to me that night if it hadn’t been for my rescuer. ‘Let me at least buy you a drink.’
He grinned and my knees went a bit wobbly, which had nothing to do with the excess alcohol swimming around my bloodstream. ‘I won’t say no to that.’
His name was Joel and he was a property developer who was out with his mates. I would meet them all later, but not tonight. Tonight was about us, about getting to know all the fascinating little details that we could cram into the remainder of the night as we huddled in a corner, blocking out the noisy revellers, thumping beat and the multicoloured lights flashing around us. When the night came to an end, when we found we were the only ones left (Penny, Jack and the others had all trickled away at some point without me noticing), we found we couldn’t say goodbye and I did something I’d never done before. I went back to Joel’s place.
To some people, this is no big deal. It’s an ordinary, sometimes weekly, occurrence but to me, this was momentous. I didn’t have sex with virtual strangers, ever. But it felt right with Joel. It felt as though I’d known him for ever rather than a couple of hours in a sweaty club. And I knew, without a doubt, that this wouldn’t be a one-night thing. My actions were so unprecedented, Penny was in a bit of a state when I performed the walk of shame the following morning.
‘Where. Have. You. Been?’ Penny leapt on me as soon as I pushed open the front door, her hands squeezing my shoulders tighter with each word. ‘I’ve been worried sick! I’ve been pacing the flat. I’ve phoned your dad. Your mum. I was about to phone the bloody police!’ Penny reached into my bag and tugged out my phone, turning it so that I could see the blank screen. ‘Why is your phone switched off?’
I nudged the door closed with my foot and wandered into the living room as I attempted to process the information she’d just dumped on me. She’d phoned Mum and Dad? She’d been thinking about phoning the police?
‘The battery died.’ Kicking off my shoes, I collapsed onto the sofa with a part happy, part weary sigh. ‘I’m sorry you were worried but I’m fine.’
‘I can see that.’ Penny looked almost put out that the drama had come to a sudden halt. ‘But where were you?’
My face itched until I gave in and allowed the huge Cheshire-cat grin to spread. ‘Do you remember that blond guy we saw?’
‘The totally fit one?’
‘The one you said made Jack look like Quasimodo.’
‘Sssssh!’ Penny’s eyes were wide, her head bobbing towards her bedroom next door. ‘Don’t tell him I said that.’
‘Jack’s here?’ I whispered.
‘Sleeping last time I checked. I tried to wake him up when I realised you weren’t here but the lousy sod said you’d probably pulled and started snoring again. I thought it was rubbish. Maddie doesn’t go on the pull. Maddie doesn’t have one-night shags.’ I flinched at the vulgar word. ‘But it turns out I was wrong. You’re a dark horse, aren’t you?’ Penny flopped down on the sofa next to me and nudged me with her elbow. ‘So what was it like? Are you seeing him again?’
The Cheshire-cat grin made a return. ‘It was amazing and I’m seeing him tonight.’
Penny’s mouth gaped open. ‘Tonight? Blimey, he’s keen. It must have been good!’
‘It’s not just sex,’ I told Penny, who patted my knee in a patronising of-course-it’s-not kind of way. But I proved her wrong. I knew, without a doubt, that it hadn’t been a one-night thing and my gut instinct was verified by the five-year relationship that followed.
Chapter Six (#ulink_e5271a8a-1c6f-54cd-852a-bca362024902)
Sunday at the teashop was quiet (even by our usual standards) and even Robbie failed to turn up for his banana milkshake, so I sent Victoria home early to spend some time with Nathan. One of us may as well make the most of their loved-up status and, as I’d been single since my relationship with Joel ended, it obviously wasn’t going to be me.
Luckily, business picked up on Monday morning, with a breakfast rush (if you can call six customers a rush). The only downside was that Mags didn’t manage to get onto the council until mid-morning. Still, we were confident that our request would be approved. Why wouldn’t it? We wouldn’t damage the garden or prevent anybody else from using it. In fact, we’d be doing the council a favour by drawing attention to the neglected public area.
So it comes as an unexpected blow when we receive the rejection from the council a few days later, refusing permission to use the garden for our proposed summer party. We’re back at square one and nothing can haul us out of the slump the news has brought. Even The Builders, a group of jovial blokes who have been popping in for an afternoon treat once or twice a week while they’ve been working on a nearby housing development, fail to raise a smile. They usually arrive like sunshine in their fluorescent jackets, cracking jokes and making us laugh, but today we’re far too down in the dumps to play nicely. Even Owen, the foreman of the group, fails in his attempts to flirt with Mags.
‘Come to the pub with me tonight,’ Owen coaxes while a nonplussed Mags swipes at a table with a cloth. ‘I’ll cheer you up over a few drinks.’
‘It’ll take more than you buying me a few drinks to cheer me up,’ Mags says with a weary sigh.
‘Who said I was buying?’ Owen asks, which would usually crack us up but today it’s only Owen’s fellow builders, Connor and Little Jordan, who laugh while Mags and I can’t even raise a half-hearted smile to play along. Connor and Jordan (nicknamed ‘Little Jordan’ by his workmates as he’s on an apprenticeship scheme and the youngest on site) usually accompany Owen on the treat run, though others occasionally make the trip too. They’ve been popping into the teashop for the past six weeks and I’ll miss them when their job is completed and they move on. Although Mags will claim otherwise, she’ll miss Owen’s visits too.
‘Don’t be daft. He isn’t being serious,’ Mags will insist every time I broach the subject of her accepting Owen’s offer of a date, but her cheeks will take on a rosy tinge and her smile will be a little wider after his visits.
‘What are we going to do now?’ Victoria asks once The Builders have trooped out with their goodies. It’s her day off but she’s popped in with Nathan for a crisis meeting. They’re sitting at the rubber-duck-patterned table, Nathan’s hand making soothing circles on Victoria’s back. It’s so sweet, I have to look away otherwise I’ll either burst into tears or combust with jealousy.
‘We could still have the party,’ Mags says, though she can’t seem to muster much enthusiasm. ‘But on a smaller scale. We can do the samples as planned, just in here.’ She sits down opposite Victoria and Nathan, the corners of her mouth turning down. ‘I’m afraid that’d mean the band couldn’t play.’
Victoria nods. ‘It’s okay. It would have been fun, but the teashop and drumming up business is the most important part.’
‘And we’ll still help out if we can,’ Nathan says which, again, is incredibly sweet of him. ‘I’m not much use in the kitchen but I can hand out flyers and stuff. I’m sure the others will chip in too.’
I manage my first genuine smile since we received the council’s rejection. ‘That would be amazing, thank you.’
‘So we’re going ahead with the free samples?’ Mags asks.
‘Let’s do it,’ I say, because we have to do something and this is all we’ve got.
So we forge ahead with the revised plan over the next few days. I plan the menu of sample-sized treats, ordering the required supplies and plotting a timetable to keep me on track on the day, while Mags contacts a local printer to provide the advertising materials we need. Victoria, Mags and I will distribute the flyers between us during the run-up to the event, covering the town centre, the local college and as many of the nearby primary schools as we can.
On the actual day, Nathan and the band (minus Victoria) will distribute more flyers in the town centre to catch any potential last-minute customers. Mags has also placed an advert in the local paper and I’ve been busy putting up posters in every permitted spot in town. I’m currently tacking one of the posters to the teashop’s window to grab the attention of any passers-by.
‘Is this the party you were talking about last time I was here?’ Birdie asks. She’s sitting by the window with her usual bowl of apple crumble and custard while Franklin waits patiently outside, his doggy treat long gone.
‘Sort of.’ I step back, gauging whether the poster is straight. ‘We didn’t get permission to use the garden so we’re having a scaled-down version here in the teashop. There’ll be lots of free samples and Victoria’s going to do some face-painting for the kids.’ I grab a flyer from the box that I’ve kept handy behind the counter and hand it to Birdie.
‘I’ll see if my Caleb can pop along with Cara,’ she says. ‘She loved the cakes and biscuits I took home for our tea party so I’m sure she’ll want to come.’
‘They’re more than welcome,’ I tell Birdie as the door opens. Dad is stooped in the doorway, scratching Franklin behind the ears as he slowly inches inside the teashop. He finally straightens, closing the door reluctantly as Franklin blinks at him with wide eyes through the glass.
‘You’re just in time,’ I tell Dad as I lead him to one of the tables. ‘The apple crumble is just out of the oven.’ I seat Dad before heading into the kitchen where I scoop a generous serving of apple crumble into a bowl and pour on thick, freshly made custard.
‘Best apple crumble I’ve ever had,’ Birdie says, lifting her loaded spoon as I place the dish in front of Dad.
‘She’s a smashing little baker,’ Dad says, winking up at me. ‘Always has been.’
‘This is my Dad,’ I explain. ‘Dad, this is one of my most loyal customers, Mrs Conrad.’
‘Birdie, please.’ Birdie reaches a hand across the small distance and shakes Dad’s hand. ‘Mrs Conrad is what the children call me at school.’
‘You’re a teacher?’ Dad asks.
‘Semi-retired. I do supply work now, three days a week. Keeps my brain active but I still get to enjoy leisurely days, stuffing myself with Maddie’s apple crumble. What is it you do …? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’
‘Clive,’ Dad says and I back away, leaving them to bond over their apple crumble while I join Mags in the office. She seems to spend more time in here than she does in the teashop and each time I see her hunched over the books at the desk, I grow more and more anxious.
‘The poster’s up,’ I tell Mags. ‘And Nathan and the others are going to pass the flyers out in exchange for baked goods.’ I’m doubly grateful for Nathan and the band’s generosity. They’ve not only stepped in to help spread the word, they’re doing it for free. ‘This is going to work, isn’t it?’
Mags tries to smile, though she can’t quite pull it off and it resembles a grimace. ‘I hope so. I really, really do.’
The alternative is unthinkable, so I busy myself with a bit of cleaning, making a start on the washing up while we’re quiet. Dad and Birdie are the only customers in the teashop and, as they’re entertaining themselves, I’m not really needed out in the teashop. Dad and Birdie are still chatting away as I clear their empty dishes but Birdie says her goodbyes when a fed-up Franklin start to yap outside the door.
‘Don’t forget these.’ I wave the usual bag of doggy treats and Birdie tuts and says I shouldn’t go to any trouble. ‘It’s no trouble. You know that.’
‘Franklin appreciates you going to the trouble, no matter what you say, so thank you from both of us.’ Birdie places the treats in her handbag and zips up her jacket. ‘I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Clive.’
‘You too, Birdie,’ Dad says and he waves as Birdie and Franklin pass the window.
‘Cup of tea?’ I ask Dad.
He checks his watch and nods. ‘I should have enough time to squeeze a quick one in.’ I make cups of tea for Dad, Mags and I, placing a cup beside Mags in the office before joining Dad out in the teashop.
‘So how’s your mum?’ Dad asks as he takes a sip.
‘Good, I think.’ I haven’t actually seen Mum since I last visited Dad so I have no further news. I can see Dad is itching for more information so I’m glad when Nicky descends noisily into the teashop, flopping down onto one of the chairs at our table.
‘So all the shops in the street now have a flyer in their window,’ she says as she shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over the back of her chair.
‘Sorry?’ I have no idea what Nicky is talking about.
‘The flyers. For the party tomorrow. I offered to put one in the salon window and Mags said yes. I thought I may as well ask the others if they’d put one up too and they all agreed. Rehana and George weren’t so keen at first, the miserable buggers, until I pointed out that Rehana’s eyebrows were looking a bit uneven and offered to tidy them up for mate’s rates.’
‘Thank you.’ I’m taken aback by how kind everyone is being. ‘Let me get you a cup of tea and some cake. On the house.’
‘Don’t be daft. You’re going to be giving away more than enough freebies tomorrow.’ Nicky grabs her purse and heads over to the fridge to see what we have on offer today. She selects a chocolate fudge cupcake before joining Dad again. They see each other quite regularly in the teashop so they chat easily but it wouldn’t matter if Dad was a stranger; Nicky has such a breezy confidence and a chatterbox nature, she could start a conversation with thin air.
‘Have you thought any more about asking Jane out?’ I ask Dad when I join them with Nicky’s cup of tea. I’ve asked in front of Nicky on purpose so she can back me up.
Dad shakes his head. ‘I’ve told you, I’m too old for all that dating malarkey.’ Dad says the word ‘dating’ as though it’s the new term for dogging, scrunching up his nose and almost shuddering at the mere thought.
Nicky is about to plunge the cupcake into her mouth but she pauses, cocking an eyebrow at Dad. ‘I beg your pardon? Nobody is too old for dating. I’m going to be dating until the day I’m shoved into a wooden box and buried in the ground.’
‘Oh, come on,’ I scoff. ‘I bet even death won’t stop you.’
Nicky laughs. ‘That’s true. I’ll probably flirt with the undertaker as he’s embalming me.’ She turns to Dad, eyebrows low to show her sincerity now. ‘Seriously, Clive. You’re never too old to date and you’re only what … mid-fifties?’
Nicky knows this isn’t true but her flattery works and the corners of Dad’s lips lift. ‘Sixty-two.’
‘Really?’ I think the squeak in Nicky’s voice is overkill but Dad is lapping it up, full-on grinning now.
‘I’ll be sixty-three in a couple of months.’
‘Wow, you’re looking good, Clive. This Jane is a very lucky woman. You should definitely ask her out.’
Dad’s grin slips. ‘Nah. I’m really not after a relationship. Far too long in the tooth for all that.’
‘Who said anything about a relationship?’ Nicky asks. ‘Go out, have a bit of fun. No strings.’ She winks at Dad and I feel a shudder of my own coming on. ‘You only live once, Clive.’
‘Why don’t you bring Jane along tomorrow?’ I suggest, and not only because it’ll mean an extra body in the teashop.
‘Like I said …’ Dad stands and slips on his jacket ‘… I’m too old for all that, strings or not.’
Chapter Seven (#ulink_f746c38e-9670-50cb-9f3e-1dcb814b464c)
I’m up extra early on Saturday morning, my eyes bleary as I move around the teashop’s kitchen, measuring, mixing and pouring ingredients, sliding trays in and out of the oven, transferring cakes and biscuits to cooling racks and containers. The croissants and cinnamon buns are already cooling by the time Mags arrives just after six and a batch of double chocolate chip muffins are being lifted onto the counter.
‘Blimey, girl. Have you been baking all night?’ Mags asks as she removes her jacket.
‘Not quite, but who needs sleep anyway?’ I say through a yawn.
Mags grabs an apron and slips it over her head. ‘Where do you need me?’
I consult the list that’s already splattered with flour and gooey cake mix. ‘Can you make the chocolate custard for the trifles?’ As well as our regular menu, I’m making the sample desserts for the party this afternoon, including Nicky’s favourite Black Forest trifle. I made the black cherry jelly last night, which is now set in little pots in the fridge. We’ll top the jelly with chocolate custard and whipped cream, adding chocolate sauce and a glacé cherry to finish.
‘Will do.’ Mags ties the apron around her waist and washes her hands before she makes a start on the custard while I pop a batch of bite-sized cherry scones into the oven. We work our way through the list, adding more tiny desserts to the menu, including all our favourites: peanut butter blondies (Victoria’s), raspberry cream cheese brownies (Mags’s) and fairy cakes (mine). Fairy cakes aren’t the most sophisticated of desserts but they remind me of Gran and they never fail to raise a smile. Who can say no to soft sponge covered in sweet icing and rainbow sprinkles?
Victoria arrives just before eight with Nathan and the rest of the band. I’ve heard a lot about Tom, Daniel and Josh but I’ve never actually met them before now, so it’s nice to put faces to the names. Even if I am covered in flour and starting to panic about the day ahead.
Victoria serves the trickle of early morning customers while Mags and I rush around the kitchen to make sure we’re as ready as we can be for the party. We can bake more as needed throughout the day but we’ve managed to get the bulk of the desserts ready by the time the boys head into town with the remaining flyers.
‘Cup of tea?’ Mags asks as I pull the ramekin dishes half-filled with apple crumble out of the oven and set them out on the side. I’ll make the custard nearer the time to top the dishes up with.
