The Seafront Tea Rooms (2 page)

‘Kat.’ Letty, the owner, smiled and tucked a strand of her silver-grey bob back behind her ear. ‘Come in. I was hoping we might see you today.’

Kat closed the door behind her. ‘Hi there,’ she said, leaning in to kiss her hello. Letty was in her usual pressed black slacks, and an apron with a dusting of flour on it. Her son Euan was sitting up at the bar, dressed in a suit, looking at something on his iPad.

‘Thought I’d pop by and say hello.’

‘Everything OK?’ Letty asked, her pale blue eyes enquiring gently.

‘Yes,’ Kat said, as light-heartedly as she could, sitting down at her usual chair by the window. ‘I had a job interview. It didn’t work out.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ She put an arm around Kat sympathetically. ‘Well, it’s their loss.’

‘It probably wasn’t right for me anyway.’ Kat shrugged.

‘That’s the spirit. There’ll be something better out there for you, I’m sure.’

‘I could seriously do with the money, though.’

Letty’s brow furrowed. ‘Are you OK to cover the basics? I can always help you out, you know.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Kat said. ‘We’ll be fine. Leo can really eat, though… and he’s outgrowing his clothes so quickly.’

‘Oh yes,’ Letty said. ‘I remember how it was. Euan was the same,’ she said, nodding over at her son, who was devouring one of her scones. ‘Thirty and he’s still over here eating my profits on his tea breaks.’

‘I can hear you talking about me, you know,’ he called over, a glint in his blue eyes.

Letty rolled her eyes indulgently. ‘Cheeky monkey!’ She turned back to Kat. ‘Can you have a word with Jake?’

‘He’s still getting the business set up in Scotland and it’s taking time.’

‘Right. I suppose that’s not something that happens overnight. He’ll get there. Until then, what can I get you? An Earl Grey? I’ve got a Victoria sponge fresh out the oven. Cake’s on me today.’

Kat looked over at the counter. She could see the scones that were scenting the air so irresistibly, a Victoria sponge cake and a tray of brownies.

‘Oh, go on then,’ Kat said, a smile creeping back on to her face. ‘Thank you.’

Letty disappeared off into the kitchen and returned to the table a few minutes later with a pink-and-green-patterned teapot, a matching teacup and a slice of cake layered with jam and cream.

‘Here you go,’ she said, putting the things down.

Kat thanked her and took a bite of Victoria sponge cake. ‘Wow, this is delicious, Letty.’

Letty smiled. ‘Thank you. I consider that high praise – I know what your standards are like.’

Kat laughed.

Euan got to his feet, pulled his suit jacket back on and came over to them.

‘How are you doing, Kat? It’s been a while.’

‘Good, thanks.’ It was comforting to see Euan. They’d grown up on the same street and while they’d moved in different social circles, with four years between them, he’d always been kind to her.

‘And Leo?’

‘Growing fast. I can barely catch up with him these days.’ She smiled.

‘You’ll have to bring him in next time.’

‘I will do. He loves this place.’

‘See you later, Mum.’ Euan gave Letty a hug. ‘I need to head back to site.’

‘Bye, love,’ Letty said, putting her hand gently on his arm.

‘Bye, Kat.’ Euan gave Kat a nod goodbye and walked out, starting up a conversation on his mobile.

‘What’s Euan working on at the moment?’

‘The old cinema – they’re turning it into a restaurant. He’s done some of the designs for the project. It’s a shame they couldn’t keep it open – but this is better than it sitting empty.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll ask him to keep his ear to the ground for you,’ Letty said. ‘It might be that some work comes up.’

‘Thanks, that would be good.’

No use being sentimental. Her old job at the cinema ticket office hadn’t been perfect, even though she’d enjoyed working there, especially the matinees full of friendly pensioners and new mums. Kat sipped her tea slowly, gazing out of the window. Life moved on, and places changed. She’d find a way to move forward too.

An hour later, Kat was waiting by the door to Leo’s nursery, holding a jumper for him. She was glad she’d put it in her bag – the warm day had cooled a little and Leo had only been wearing a T-shirt when she’d dropped him off before her interview that morning.

She’d browsed on her phone at the tea rooms and found one new job that might be suitable – as an admin assistant at an estate agents. It was outside town, so would mean a long journey there and back, but she could manage that if she had to.

A metre or so away two mothers were chatting – Amelia, a redhead with a pregnancy bump, and Emma, a dark-haired woman carrying a pink scooter. She knew the women from pick-ups and drop-offs, and had chatted to them occasionally. Today she kept her eye on the nursery door, waiting to see Leo come out.

‘How about this Sunday? Are you and Sam free for lunch?’ Amelia asked her friend. ‘Work has been crazy, so I could do with something to look forward to.’

‘Sounds great,’ Emma replied enthusiastically.

‘Sam and I are taking Lily to soft play in the morning, so some adult company after that would be wonderful. Can’t count on my husband for that!’

Amelia laughed. ‘It’s a date then. Do you like rhubarb crumble? We’ve got some rhubarb fresh from the garden and —’

A tickle in Kat’s throat made her cough. Amelia turned, noticed her and looked faintly embarrassed. ‘Hi, Kat, didn’t see you there.’

‘Hello,’ Kat said with a smile.

‘I was just saying —’ Amelia seemed to stop herself. ‘You know, we must have Leo round for a playdate one of these days. He and Lily get on so well.’

‘He’d enjoy that,’ Kat said.

They stood quietly for a couple of minutes that stretched out. Finally, the nursery door opened.

Kat looked out eagerly for her son. He was still at the back of the room, taking his time as he walked over. Amelia and Emma greeted their toddlers.

‘Well, best be off,’ Amelia said, with a smile at Kat. The two women set off with their children, who were squealing with excitement, in the direction of the shops.

Kat clutched Leo’s jumper to her chest. He caught sight of her and, waving a quick goodbye to his friend, dashed over to her with a huge smile. As soon as he reached her he gave her a bear hug, encircling her legs.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ Kat said, ruffling his dark-blond hair. ‘Here, put this on.’ She passed him his red jumper and he slipped it over his head quickly.

He looked at her suit skirt and wrinkled his nose. ‘Why are you wearing those funny clothes?’

‘Oh,’ she said, looking down and touching the synthetic material. ‘I had to be smart for something.’

‘Boring. I like your green dress better.’

‘I’ll put that on when we get home,’ she said, smiling. ‘OK?’

That night, after she’d put Leo to bed, Kat opened the antique wooden cabinet in her kitchen. Inside were glass jars filled with different types of tea – from fragrant Indian blends to refreshing herbals, each one with a handwritten luggage tag attached. She chose a jasmine bud that expanded in the water into a flower, put it in a delicate china teacup and carried it over to the sofa. She picked up the quilt she’d been working on for Leo, made from scraps of old duvet covers, and pushed the needle into the fabric, bringing together colourful sections of material. Each fresh new stitch of white cotton soothed her.

Tomorrow morning she’d apply for the admin job she’d spotted, tailoring her CV more carefully this time. Yes, it had been two months of unreturned applications, and interviews ending in apologetic shakes of the head, but this could be the one.

She was distracted by a buzzing sound.

Her phone was vibrating on the coffee table, the screen lit up. She reached for it.

JAKE
.

The name that used to be half of her world. Now it was a few letters, nothing more.

‘Hi, Jake,’ she said, picking up.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘How’re things?’ His Scottish accent sounded stronger now.

‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing. Listen, Kat, I’m here. Downstairs. The bell’s not working.’

She got up and went over to the kitchen window, peering out. Jake looked up at her from the street and smiled, still talking into his phone.

‘Can you let me in?’

2

Thursday 14 August

A village near Bergerac, France

‘No more for me, thank you,’ Séraphine said. Her father Patrick offered her the slice of raspberry tart again, ready for her to change her mind, but she put her hand over her plate. ‘Honestly, Papa, I’ve had enough.’

Patrick drew his dark eyebrows together and set the tart down reluctantly, then shook his head. ‘Just like her mother,’ he said in English to their guests, Ravi and Anna. ‘They do all the hard work in the kitchen and then let everyone else do the eating.’

A warm laugh went up around the table. Séraphine’s mother Hélène nudged her gently in the ribs and whispered behind her hand in French, ‘They don’t see what actually goes on when we’re baking, of course.’ She smiled, toying with the gold pendant on her necklace.

Since Séraphine was a young girl, she and her mother had baked together, the two of them feasting on the freshly picked berries, flaked almonds and pieces of chocolate that never made it as far as the oven.

Today, sunshine warmed Séraphine’s shoulders, bare in a strappy red sundress, and glinted off her wine glass. A few baguette crumbs and an olive stone were all that were left on her plate, remnants of the long afternoon’s dining under the apple tree in the garden of her family’s chateau. The twins, her brother and sister, both eight years old – splashed contentedly in the swimming pool nearby.

‘I’m glad you could make it down,’ Anna, one of her parents’ guests, said to Séraphine over the narrow table, with its red-and-white gingham tablecloth. ‘Your mother said you weren’t feeling well earlier.’

‘I’m much better now, thank you,’ she replied politely. She twisted her wavy dark-blonde hair up and secured it with a clip. The late-afternoon breeze was cool on the back of her neck. ‘It was only a headache.’

Séraphine had been tempted to stay in bed that morning, her mind still buzzing from the events of the past weeks, but in the end distraction had been welcome. Conversation with Ravi and Anna, an English couple who’d recently bought the neighbouring chateau, had been relaxed and unhurried, as if she’d always known them. It had been good to practise her English with them, too – over the summer, since finishing her exams, she’d barely spoken a word.

‘Mathilde, Benjamin,’ Hélène called out to the twins, who were splashing water over the side of the pool as they threw a beachball to each other. ‘It’s time to come out now.’ She turned back to her elder daughter. ‘Séraphine, have you seen their towels?’

She picked up the fluffy beach towels on the grass next to her and passed them to her mother. ‘Here you go.’

Hélène went over to the twins as they clambered out of the pool, shivering slightly.

‘Your mother said you like to read. Do you read in English?’ Anna asked Séraphine. ‘I have a few books you might enjoy.’

‘Thank you, yes. My favourites are mysteries and crime novels – Agatha Christie, that kind of thing. Classics too. I’m reading
Rebecca
at the moment – I’m enjoying it.’

‘A wonderful book,’ Anna agreed.

‘I love the part where she describes the laying out of afternoon tea, the performance of it – the silver tray, the kettle, the cloth.’

‘Yes. Quite an important part of the day – or at least it was back then,’ Anna said. ‘Most people don’t have the time, or take the time, now. I have to admit I was more in the habit of grabbing a latte than stopping to sip Earl Grey.’

‘Séraphine’s always been keen on English culture,’ Patrick said to Anna and her husband. ‘And of course she’s the linguist in the family. My English, well, as you can hear, it’s terrible. Luckily, it comes naturally to her.’

Séraphine felt a flush creep on to her cheeks. ‘Dad, shhh,’ she said, laughing. She looked at Ravi and Anna and rolled her eyes playfully in her father’s direction. ‘I’m pretty rusty. I’ve finished my teacher training course, but want to improve my English before I start looking for a job.’

‘That’s good. Such an exciting time in life – preparing to fly the nest,’ Anna said.

Séraphine’s confusion must have shown.

‘Sorry – flying the nest, leaving home,’ Anna explained.

‘Oh,’ Séraphine laughed. ‘That’s a nice phrase. Yes, I suppose so. Though I won’t be going too far – I’ll be looking for work in Bordeaux, private classes to start off with, then a permanent job next autumn.’

‘And before that – wouldn’t you like to go to England?’ Ravi chipped in. ‘Now’s the time in life for big adventures. How old are you now?’

‘Twenty-three,’ she said.

Age didn’t mean much, Séraphine thought. What mattered was how you felt inside. She remembered the sensation of grass beneath her bare feet, by the river the day before. Laughing. Feeling free. The butterfly touch of a kiss on her neck. She felt complete in a way she never had before.

‘That’s the way to perfect a language, too,’ Ravi continued. ‘Total immersion.’

‘Hang on, Ravi.’ Anna nudged her husband. ‘That’s what we said about coming here, isn’t it? And look – we’re still so incompetent we’ve got these lovely people talking to us in English.’ She laughed. ‘But you’d be more disciplined about it, Séraphine, I’m sure. And you’re already quite fluent.’

‘I wish we could invite you to be our guest,’ Ravi said. ‘But now we’ve sold up and there’s definitely no going back.’

‘You prefer it here?’ Séraphine asked. She was more comfortable talking about them than herself.

‘We adore it,’ Anna said. ‘Who wouldn’t? Good food, wine, company… We were ready for a change after the kids left home.’

Instinctively, Séraphine glanced at her parents. A look passed between them. Her brother Guillaume had left home the year before, in difficult circumstances, and they hadn’t been at all ready for the change.