The Seafront Tea Rooms
Read The Seafront Tea Rooms Online
Authors: Vanessa Greene
Vanessa Greene grew up in north London. Her perfect weekend would feature chocolate muffins, good friends and, of course, a perfect cup of tea. Vanessa’s first novel,
The Vintage Teacup Club
, was published to rave reader reviews and won an instant place in their hearts. She lives in north London with her husband and son. She loves to hear from readers, so drop her a line on Twitter (@VanessaGBooks) or Facebook (
www.facebook.com/VanessaGreeneBooks
).
The Vintage Teacup Club
COPYRIGHT
Published by Sphere
978-1-4055-2782-8
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © Vanessa Greene 2014
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
SPHERE
Little, Brown Book Group
100 Victoria Embankment
London, EC4Y 0DY
The Seafront Tea Rooms
Table of Contents
For Susan
In a tranquil location overlooking the sandy cove, this tea rooms is a place caught in time. Once inside, with a cup of expertly selected tea warming your hands, you’ll rediscover something that, in the hurry of life, is too easily forgotten. A hidden gem, a place you’ll want to whisper about to only the closest of friends.
Indulge
magazine feature on
‘Britain’s Secret Tea Rooms’
‘Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea’
Henry Fielding
Thursday 14 August
Scarborough
Kat Murray and her three-year-old son Leo walked together along the beach in flip-flops, his small hand in hers. The rock shops and arcades of the South Bay were busy with holidaymakers and weekenders, making the most of the rare burst of warm sunshine on the British coast. As the two of them neared the harbour, the familiar smell of fresh-caught fish from the pier reminded Kat that they were almost home.
Leo dropped his mother’s hand and ran towards the shop underneath their flat, with its neon-pink sign and a doughnut model that was bigger than him. She ran after him, laughing. ‘I’m the winner!’ he called out, touching the doughnut.
‘Not again,’ Kat said, sighing in defeat, then smiling at him. ‘One day. One day I’ll beat you.’ She got her keys out of her bag.
She unlocked the front door and Leo climbed the hallway stairs ahead of her. She and Jake had moved into the flat four years before, when she was twenty-two, in love and carefree. A lot had changed while they’d been living there.
‘What’s for tea today, Mummy?’ Leo called over his shoulder.
Kat tried to recall what was left in the kitchen cupboards and fridge.
‘Dinosaurs,’ she replied. ‘On the menu tonight, sir, are Tyrannosaurus rexes and diplodocuses. I hope you’re not vegetarian.’
‘No way,’ Leo said, joyfully. ‘I love eating T.rexes.’
Upstairs, Kat took a slice of rye bread and a sharp knife and cut carefully around the paper template she’d made – a dinosaur’s body shape. She cooked some long-stemmed broccoli and placed it around the dinosaur to make trees, then formed the earth with a homemade vegetable chilli.
She’d decided to stay on in the flat after she and Jake broke up in order to keep a constant in Leo’s life. Anyway, there was something about the place – the sea view, the cheap rent, even the bent-clawed seagull that tapped with its beak at their window each day – that she thought she would miss.
She took the food through to Leo in the living room, and he smiled when he saw it.
‘I like him,’ he said, looking at the plate. ‘I’m going to bite his head off first.’
‘You go for it,’ Kat laughed. ‘Before he does it to you.’
Leo chuckled, picking up his fork.
‘Can you bring my stegosaurus to watch?’
‘Sure.’ Kat went into Leo’s room and found the stuffed toy on top of his red chest of drawers. Above the chest, on the wall, was the Gruffalo mural Jake had painted. She paused for a moment to look at it. Things had been good, when they were good.
She put Leo’s stegosaurus down on the kitchen table, so that he could see it while he ate.
‘Mummy, you know where I’d like to go soon?’ he said, chewing on a piece of broccoli.
‘Where’s that?’
‘The Sealife Centre!’ he pronounced, slamming his fork down in glee.
Kat nodded, smiling. He had been asking almost daily through the summer. But it wasn’t cheap, and each time she set money aside, a bill would come. Hopefully, tomorrow things would change – her friend Cally, receptionist at the South Cliff Hotel, had put her forward for a job there. Apparently the manager had all but confirmed that it was Kat’s if she wanted it. A few hours a week would mean enough money for the extra things Leo needed, plus the occasional treat, and with the hotel within walking distance of his nursery, she’d still be able to pick him up easily.
‘Billy says it’s fun. There are jellyfish. And sharks.’
‘I’m sure it is. We’ll go soon,’ she said, kissing her son’s head. ‘I promise.’
Leo looked up at her. When she saw his dark brown eyes it was impossible not to think of Jake.
She’d get the money together.
The next day, Mr Peterson, the hotel manager, ticked Kat’s name off on the list of interviewees. She turned her silver and turquoise ring around on her finger, waiting for him to say something.
Kat must have passed the South Cliff Hotel a hundred times, on days when she’d taken the funicular up from the beach – but today was the first time she’d been inside the grand white building. She’d arrived at the same time as a coachload of Italian tourists, and from the back room she could still hear them talking out in reception.
For the interview, she’d concealed the tattoo on her wrist – a bold circle, identical to Jake’s – underneath the long sleeves of a black blazer, and blow-dried her dark cropped hair so that it lay smooth. It was warm in the room though, and she longed to take the blazer off. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d normally wear.
‘So, Kathryn. What is it that attracts you to the South Cliff?’ Mr Peterson asked.
She tried to remember what she’d practised in front of the mirror the night before, and took a breath.
‘I’m very interested in working in hospitality, and the South Cliff is internationally renowned. I’d be proud to be part of the team and I feel I could contribute a lot in terms of…’
Mr Peterson looked down at her CV, then took off his glasses and laid them down on the table. His expression seemed to soften.
‘This is primarily a cleaning job, you know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Cally told me,’ Kat said, feeling a little flat.
‘Right…’ Mr Peterson nodded slowly. ‘Well, Cally is quite insistent you would be perfect.’
‘I work hard,’ she said. ‘Whatever I do, I work hard.’
‘Yes,’ the manager said, putting one hand on her CV. ‘It certainly looks like it.’
The tension in Kat’s shoulders eased a little.
Mr Peterson sat back in his chair. ‘I hope you’ll take this the right way. A degree in Hospitality and Culinary Arts, courses in tea-tasting, patisserie…’
‘I know what you’re going to say, but I’m happy to do —’
‘You’re overqualified.’
The words rang out and Kat tried to think of a reply to counter them.
‘I should have looked through your details more carefully, but you know Cally. She can be very persuasive. Look, Kathryn – you’re young. You’re only, what…’ he glanced back at her details ‘… twenty-six? You’ve still got time to build a career for yourself. I don’t think I’d be doing the right thing employing you as a cleaner, not for either of us.’
‘Is it that you think I’d leave? Because I wouldn’t. I need something steady.’
Mr Peterson shook his head. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time.’
‘OK,’ Kat said numbly. She got to her feet.
‘Well, thanks for seeing me all the same,’ she said. ‘Could you —’
‘Of course. We’ll keep your CV on file.’
Outside, Kat took off her jacket, the sea breeze cool against her skin. She crossed the road to the rose garden on the cliffside, sat down on a bench and texted Cally a quick message to update her. Putting it down in writing made it more real. She felt as if she’d let Leo down.
At times like these, she wondered if things would have been easier if she and Jake had stayed together, if they could somehow have worked things out. Now he was back home in Scotland, his work was no longer steady, and it was Leo who would have to go without.
She walked down through the park, until the view opened up to reveal the full expanse of the sea. In front of her a little further down the hill was the place she was heading to: the Seafront Tea Rooms.
A couple of people were sitting at tables outside, but inside the café looked quiet. She pushed the stained-glass front door, a bell signalling her arrival. As she stepped inside, she breathed in the unmistakable aroma of freshly baked scones. It enveloped her, as comforting as a duvet on a chilly winter’s day. The interior of the Seafront was reassuringly familiar – the wooden tables neatly laid with pressed white tablecloths, the delicate china teacups lining the shelves, and the 1920s table lamps.
