The Seafront Tea Rooms (25 page)

‘It’s been great spending time with you,’ Euan said, his voice husky and quiet.

‘Likewise. Thank you.’

‘You’re thanking me?’ he said, with a slight smile on his lips.

‘Yes,’ she blundered. ‘You showed me around, took me out.’

‘You make it sound as if I’m a tour guide,’ he said, bringing his brows together, confused. ‘Charlie, I took you out because I like you. I thought that was obvious.’

‘It is. But… You know I’m going back to London. We’ll be miles away from each other.’

‘So you don’t even want to try?’ Euan asked, subdued.

‘I don’t see how we could make this work,’ she said. For a moment it felt better, taking control of the situation, cutting things off before she got hurt again.

He let go of her hands. The closeness that they had nurtured over the past few days, the togetherness they’d built out of laughter and shared stories, started to disappear.

‘This is the end of the line, then. If that’s what you want,’ he said.

Her stomach tightened. This wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all. To have it be over. To never share another moment with Euan. But she didn’t know how to fix it, what solution to suggest. She nodded. ‘Yes, it is what I want. I think it’s easier if we just say goodbye, don’t you?’

‘Goodbye it is, then,’ Euan said, flatly. ‘I wish it wasn’t, but you’ve made yourself clear.’ Reluctantly, he walked away.

Charlie watched him go back into the party, and then turned towards the sea, covering her face with her hands.
You’re an idiot, Charlie,
she muttered to herself. She wished desperately that she could take back every word she’d just said.

At a quarter to midnight, with the room still full of people, the lights and music cut out completely.

‘Oh no!’ Kat heard Séraphine’s voice call out into the darkness.

‘Must be the fuse box,’ Charlie said, from the other side of the room. ‘Can anyone see Letty?’

‘I can barely see anyone,’ came a male voice.

‘I think she went out to the car park with a friend,’ someone else said.

Kat vaguely recalled a previous power cut, when she’d been in the Seafront with Letty. The fuse box was on the wall near the stairs up to Letty’s flat. ‘Don’t worry, I think I know how to fix it,’ she said.

‘Here,’ Adam said, passing her his phone, with the torch function on. ‘This should help.’

They walked together through the crowded room to the back of the shop. Adam fumbled for the door handle, then opened it, leading Kat to the stairway up to Letty’s flat. The hallway there was also in darkness, save for the beam of light coming from the phone she was holding.

She turned the torch to face the wall and found the fuse box, then struggled to open it with one hand still holding the light.

‘Here, let me,’ Adam said. He leaned close to her and pulled the box open.

She stood on tiptoes and peered inside.

‘Hurry up, will you!’ came a call from the tea rooms.

‘It must be one of these,’ Kat muttered. She flicked one.

‘That one, I think,’ Adam said. As he pointed to the switch, their faces were almost touching. Séraphine’s words rang through Kat’s mind. She was sure of it now. He felt something for her too.

In the darkness, she could hear the sound of both of them breathing and was aware of the closeness of their bodies. She moved towards him and her mouth found his. They kissed, their hands joined, lips moving together naturally. Kat’s heart began to race. This felt so right.

Then, in an instant, doubts cut in. She couldn’t let this happen, not now. There had been enough upheaval in her life, and she owed it to herself, and to Leo, not to introduce any more.

She broke away from Adam, then located the switch Adam had previously pointed to and flicked it.

The music started up again and the lights in the hallway flickered on.

She saw his expression then, startled, confused at the way she’d distanced herself from him.

‘You were right,’ she said quietly. ‘That was the one.’

Part Three

Water is the mother of tea, a teapot its father, and fire the teacher.

Chinese proverb

38

Monday 6 October

‘Here’s one that will fit you,’ Kat said, passing a small white apron from the back of Letty’s kitchen door over to Zoe. She, Zoe, Letty and Séraphine were gathered in the kitchen at the Seafront for an evening baking session. Kat helped Zoe tie the straps behind her.

‘So, I wanted to show three of my favourite women how to make madeleines,’ Séraphine said. She unpacked the ingredients on to the kitchen counter. ‘I managed to find some proper tins,’ she said. ‘You can use muffin tins, but they come out much more prettily with these shell-shaped ones.’

‘Perfect,’ Letty said, putting the oven on to heat. ‘Euan tells me his dog’s addicted to these. Seems an awful waste of good cake, if you ask me.’

Séraphine and Zoe looked at each other and laughed.

Kat was grateful that her dad had offered to babysit Leo again. Baking, and being with friends, was exactly what she needed at the moment. Her mind had been on Adam ever since the party. What had happened with Jake had obviously thrown her off course – why else would she have done something so foolish? Now she just wanted to forget about it.

‘OK, Zoe – do you think you could grate the rind of this lemon for us?’ Séraphine asked the question in French, and Zoe took the lemon from her and got to work.

Letty raised her eyebrows at Séraphine and Kat discreetly, to show she was impressed, and Séraphine smiled proudly.

They worked together in the kitchen, preparing the madeleines, and then when they were in the oven cooking, sat down on the kitchen stools.

‘Baking’s kind of cool, actually,’ Zoe said, watching the cakes rise in the oven. ‘I wouldn’t mind learning how to make a few more things.’

‘You should come to my village one day,’ Séraphine said. ‘There’s a fantastic patisserie course that runs in the summer – you could take it.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Zoe said, with a smile.

Kat imagined it – the pleasure of a holiday in France with nothing to do but bake and learn and taste. It sounded like complete heaven. But it was another world, that kind of thing. For someone else, not for her.

‘I might join you,’ Letty said. ‘I’ve always dreamed of doing something like that.’

Kat nodded in encouragement. ‘You should go,’ she said.

‘You should, Letty,’ Zoe said. ‘You’re not that old.’

‘Zoe!’ Séraphine exclaimed, tapping her on the arm.

‘What?’ Zoe retorted.

Letty laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Zoe. And well, perhaps you’ve got a point.’

Kat collected her things together at the end of the evening, and pulled on her coat.

‘Here,’ Séraphine said, passing her a silver card box filled with the cakes she’d made. ‘Don’t forget these!’

‘Thanks,’ Kat said, shaking her head. ‘How silly of me.’

‘Are you OK, Kat?’ Séraphine asked her, quietly. ‘It seems like you’ve got something on your mind.’

‘It’s nothing,’ Kat said.

‘The same nothing that got Adam stirring salt into my tea this morning?’ Séraphine asked.

Kat smiled. ‘The very same one.’

39

Tuesday 7 October

Charlie breezed past Ben’s desk and settled down on her swivel chair with a cup of hot coffee. She’d caught a glimpse of him, and looked away quickly. It was only her second day back at the office, and work was what she was going to focus on; there was no time for distractions.

She switched on her computer. She noted, as she had the day before, how everything on her desk was exactly as she’d left it – down to the Post-its with scribbled one-word notes that framed her monitor. It was as if she’d never been away.

On Sunday night, she’d got back to her flat late and had a bath before settling into bed. She’d expected to feel good about being home, being in her own space again, with no complications – but instead the flat had felt empty and cold – her neglected plants were the only ones who’d missed her. As she’d lain in bed in her Egyptian cotton sheets, she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that no one aside from her boss would have cared if she hadn’t come back. The temptation to call Euan, to tell him that she hadn’t been honest with him, almost overwhelmed her. She’d switched off her phone – something she never did – and put it away in her handbag.

‘It really is good to have you back, Charlie,’ Jess said, coming over and perching on the edge of her desk.

‘Thanks. It’s good to be back.’ She smiled but the words didn’t ring true. In the grey office with its familiar frosted glass dividing walls and her colleagues hurrying by in suits, she felt adrift.

She missed the calmness of the seafront, Letty’s scones, talking to her friends – and the warmth of Euan’s arms.

‘The content’s looking great, by the way,’ Jess said. ‘You’ve pulled it off. Listen – I’m late for a meeting. Let’s catch up later.’

The feature Charlie was planning to write – a late addition to the November issue – began to take shape in her mind. It would be an anonymous insight into what The Seafront had seen through the century, the history of a secret tea rooms. She wished she’d had time to look through the box that Letty had given her – but the deadline was too tight. She’d just have to work with what she’d already found out.

She put her notes to one side and started to type.

In the Second World War, Scarborough experienced tragedies, including a raid on the town. During those difficult times, the community rallied together and the traditional tea rooms were converted into an RAF training centre. The tables were pulled back and the trainees were fuelled with Julia Brown’s vanilla sponge cake…
 

She sent the article over to Jess at lunchtime. Changing Letty’s name, she’d written the story of the tea rooms through the sixties and seventies, how Letty and John had overcome everything from financial hardships to vandalism and managed to keep the place going. She hoped that she’d done the complex story of the tea rooms justice.

She opened her ready-made salad. The sugar-snap peas and cherry tomatoes tasted bland and disappointing after the cakes she’d just been revisiting in her mind.

Her desk phone rang with an internal call, and she picked up.

‘Charlie, it’s Louis.’ The managing director’s voice was brisk and businesslike, as usual. ‘Have you got a minute?’

‘Sure,’ Charlie said, straightening in her seat. You didn’t tell the managing director you were having lunch, did you? ‘Your office?’

‘Yep. Thanks.’

She got up, checking her outfit was uncreased, and made her way to Louis’s corner office. He was bent over his laptop with his reading glasses on, draft cover printouts of the Secret Tea Rooms edition of the magazine cluttering his desk.

He glanced up and smiled when she knocked on the door.

‘Hi, Charlie. Take a seat.’

She sat in the chair facing him, the large windows giving a clear view out over the Thames. The Millennium Bridge had a steady stream of pedestrians passing over it, tiny specks with colourful umbrellas to shield them against the heavy rain. She wondered if it was raining in Scarborough, too.

‘I wanted to update you,’ Louis said, his eyes bright. ‘We’re all delighted with how this edition’s shaping up – and how the orders are looking. You’ve done a great job.’

Charlie smiled. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll be honest – I’m impressed. Despite the fact you weren’t here in the office for meetings – which I wasn’t too happy about at first – you’ve come up with a sharp concept, and delivered the kind of enjoyable and honest content that readers expect from
Indulge
. You’ve found fresh new writers, and brought them on board. Qualities that make you a very strong editor. As you know, Jess is leaving. I see no need to look outside the company for a replacement.’

Charlie’s chest was tight. This was it. The news she’d been waiting and hoping for the last few months. This was what she’d been working towards ever since she started work at the magazine.

‘How would you feel about being editor? It’s a promotion we all believe you’re ready for. Over the last eight years you’ve built up your skills here at
Indulge
, and proven yourself time and again. On a personal level, I’ve always enjoyed working with you. I’m very much hoping you’ll say yes.’

Charlie smiled and bit her lip, excited. Editor! She’d done it. With Kat and Séraphine’s help – she’d done it.

‘Yes,’ she said, her enthusiasm bubbling out.

‘Well, that’s agreed, then,’ said Louis, reaching out to shake her hand. ‘I’m thrilled.’

‘Thank you, Louis. I look forward to getting started.’

She walked back to her desk in a daze, unable to keep the smile from her face. The magazine would be hers to run; she’d have free rein with ideas and be able to build up her own stable of writers. She’d be involved in the business side, building sales. Instead of following someone else’s orders, she’d be the one calling the shots.

The journey to this point had started years ago, but she knew she would never have made it through the final stage alone. Kat and Séraphine had supported her when she needed it most – practically and emotionally. Back at her desk, she clicked the icon to compose a new email message.

To: Séraphine and Kat

Hi you two,

I just got the most exciting news. I’ve been made editor of
Indulge!
I can’t quite believe it. I owe you both a huge THANK YOU. I simply could not have done this without you. Your research, ideas and writing were a huge part of what sealed the deal.

Looking forward to celebrating with you when you come to London.

Thanks again,