The Second Chance Tea Shop Page 3

  Anna was secretly tickled that Ursula referred to the internet with as much affection as she might have a mangy Somerset fox, and as she saw her own amusement reflected in Lizzie’s eyes, she had to hide a wider smile. She knew that Ursula had deliberately resisted installing customer Wi-Fi in the tea shop, as she didn’t like the idea of customers ‘typing into their laptops when they should be making conversation’, but it was something Anna was definitely considering. After all, times were changing.

  ‘And feel free to put your own stamp on the place,’ Ursula said as she swallowed another bite of cake. ‘If you want to paint it, paint it, and you’ve got carte blanche to chuck out the tablecloths if you want to, although they’re in fairly good nick.’

  Anna grinned. ‘Thanks, but I won’t do anything too outrageous without checking with you first!’ She liked the shabby chic look, and the only walls she planned on painting were the ones at Pippin Cottage.

  ‘As you wish,’ Ursula said, then gave a sigh. ‘I like to think I’ll be back in here when your year is up, but to be honest, the Italian climate suits me much better these days, and I do like having the chance to paint.’

  Anna glanced at the walls of the coffee shop, where there were several tastefully framed watercolours. She took a guess that they must be Ursula’s work. The Italian influence – warm colours, broad landscapes – was clear. ‘It sounds great,’ she said, her eyes drawn again to the bay window, where the contrasting weather couldn’t have been more obvious.

  ‘I’ll leave you a folder with all of the important stuff; who we pay the bills to, suppliers, instructions for the oven,’ Ursula paused. ‘And, of course, the diary, so you two can sort out who’s doing what and when.’

  ‘Anything’s got to be easier to use than the Rayburn I’ve just inherited!’ Anna gave a wry smile. ‘That’s going to take a bit of getting used to.’

  ‘You’ll probably need some special tins if you’ve got one of those at home,’ Lizzie interjected. ‘The kids and I stayed in a cottage in Cornwall a few years ago that had one, and it took me most of the holiday to realise that the baking tray that came with it was a cold shelf. I lost count of the amount of things I burned until one of the girls got on Google!’

  ‘Well, complications aside, if you want to bake at home as well as in the kitchen here, you’ll have to get a Health and Safety certificate, but I’m sure that’ll be fairly straightforward.’ Ursula smiled. ‘And the rest, I’m sure you’ll pick up as you go along. Lizzie knows the place inside out, and she’s happy to help.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anna said, then finished her coffee. ‘And thank you for trusting me with this. It’s good to know I’ll be getting my teeth into something now I’m back in the village.’

  ‘As if a new house and a toddler weren’t enough,’ Ursula smiled gently. ‘And on your own, too.’

  ‘I need a new challenge,’ Anna said softly. Even two years on, the grief would sneak up on her, but she was far more able, now, to deal with the sympathy of others. Initially, in the raw months after, she’d have disintegrated, but now, for the most part, she could manage. Besides, after the Rayburn situation, she was all cried out.

  ‘Well, let’s call it a day today, then,’ Ursula said, brisk again. ‘I’m sure you’ve got plenty to be getting on with in that new house of yours, and we’ve got to get this place ready for opening up again tomorrow. So I’ll see you bright and early in the New Year.’

  As Anna left the tea shop, she once again felt a frisson of excitement. It had been quite a day, but the worst was over. Now all that lay ahead was a mountain of unpacking, Christmas and her first week at work. All a piece of cake, she thought wryly, making her way back to Pippin Cottage.

  5

  As with any upheaval, though, it wasn’t all plain sailing in the run-up to Anna’s first week in the tea shop. She had made it through Christmas Day, just, spending the night at her parents’ house with Ellie, but, from the moment she’d opened Pippin Cottage’s front door late on Boxing Day morning, she’d felt the grief hit her once again. Finding a box of James’ old love letters to her that had been soaked by a broken bottle of Scotch whisky in the move had been the final straw. Beyond saving, they were now in the ugly black wheelie bin outside the back door. That was where Charlotte had found her when she’d popped round with the hat that Ellie had left behind on the day they’d moved in. Helping Anna into the house, she sat her in a kitchen chair and put the kettle on.

  ‘It’s not fair!’ Anna howled. ‘James should be here, in this house, sharing it with me and Ellie. It’s not fucking fair!’ Breaking down into helpless sobs, she put her head in her hands on the kitchen table.

  ‘I’m so sorry, hon,’ Charlotte said. Putting her arms around her, she let Anna cry, stroking her hair and muttering soothing nonsense until Anna’s sobs turned to hiccoughs.

  Eventually, Anna looked up. ‘No. I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’ve got enough to do without me dumping all over you.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Charlotte grinned ruefully. ‘I’ve left Simon’s mother with a bottle of sherry and a pile of Simon’s socks to darn, since she’s always so scandalised I won’t sew them up myself. That’ll keep the old bat busy for hours!’

  Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Anna smiled. ‘That’s what I’ve always loved about you – your optimism.’

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. ‘Oh please; don’t go all mushy on me now.’

  ‘What time is it?’ Anna asked.

  ‘About elevenish.’

  ‘Good. At least I can get my face back to normal before Ellie sees me.’ She’d left Ellie for a little while longer at her parents’ house, taking up their offer of childcare while she sorted out the last few boxes.

  ‘It’s OK to cry, you know,’ Charlotte said gently. ‘You lost your husband not even two years ago. It’s to be expected.’

  ‘Two years last week,’ Anna replied. ‘The day we – I – completed on this place.’

  ‘Christ, talk about timing.’

  ‘I still wake up thinking he’s alive,’ Anna said. ‘And I question everything I do, thinking whether or not James would approve of my choices. I could be buying milk or a house, or sending Ellie to time out, and I still have to think for a minute.’

  ‘I remember your wedding,’ Charlotte said. ‘The church, the flowers, your little cousin Emily kicking off halfway down the aisle and having to be escorted off to her mother’s lap…’

  ‘Dad getting plastered on whisky before his speech, James’ mum being all sniffy we hadn’t got her Aunt Maureen to make the cake, despite the fact Maureen was eighty-five and half blind…’

  ‘James and Simon playing skittles on the lawn with all of the empty champagne bottles and a random football…’

  Anna laughed. ‘It was a good day. Not quite so many people came to the funeral.’

  ‘They didn’t know what to say,’ Charlotte offered.

  ‘People crossed the road to avoid me after he died.’

  Charlotte smiled ruefully.

  ‘And sometimes I feel so lost without him.’

  ‘Anna,’ Charlotte put a refreshed mug of tea down in front of her friend. ‘It’s you and Ellie who matter now. James would want you to be happy. I know it’s not like having him here with you, but he’s left you in a pretty fair position. He’d want you to do what feels right for you, and your gorgeous little girl.’

  Anna blinked back tears again. Charlotte wasn’t her best friend for nothing. ‘You’re right,’ she conceded, taking a sip of her tea.

  ‘When am I ever wrong?’

  There was a pause while the two friends munched on their biscuits.

  ‘I keep meaning to ask,’ Charlotte said between mouthfuls. ‘What was Matthew Carter doing knocking on your door the day you moved in?’ Despite living two doors away, the friends hadn’t really caught up since before Christmas Day as they’d had so much going on.

  ‘Oh, is that his name?’ Anna said. ‘He was so off with me, I didn’t even bother t
o ask.’

  ‘Well, off with you or not, he’s still bloody good-looking. I would, if I wasn’t already married to the love of my life, of course!’

  ‘If you like that sort of thing.’

  ‘What’s not to like?’ Charlotte replied. ‘Tall, dark – well, badgery now, to be fair, but he is a bit over forty – outdoorsy, tanned, muscular and happens to be filthy rich.’ She sighed, then, at Anna’s quizzical look. ‘You know… Carter’s Cider? That Matthew Carter?’

  The penny dropped. ‘Oh, of course! I thought I recognised him from somewhere. Didn’t he show us round the farm about a million years ago when we were helping out with the village Girl Guide company?’

  Charlotte laughed. ‘You tripped up the gantry steps in the barn and he had to pick you up off the floor. And those bloody kids wouldn’t stop talking all the way round. Thank God we went off to uni soon after.’

  Anna laughed. ‘Well he obviously wasn’t keen on letting the cottage go, because when he came round on the day I moved in, and also when he showed me around on the viewing, all he could do was scowl.’

  ‘Really?’ Charlotte looked shocked. ‘I thought you said it was the estate agent who behaved like an arsehole when you viewed the place.’

  ‘I thought he was the agent,’ Anna frowned. ‘But it turns out he was stepping in, for some reason. I didn’t put two and two together until he came round the other day. The deeds to the cottage were in the name of a holding company.’

  ‘Canny old Jack,’ Charlotte replied. ‘Keeping the property as a business investment all these years.’ She finished her mug of tea. ‘I can’t think why Matthew would have been so off with you when you viewed the place, though. Perhaps Jack went over Matthew’s head and, control freak that Matthew is, his nose was put out of joint because his dad made a decision without him. Matthew’s brother Jonathan lived in the cottage for a while and it’s been rented out ever since. Perhaps Matthew was hoping to rent it out again.’

  ‘Oh, that’s right,’ Anna said. ‘I forgot there was another Carter brother. I suppose because they were both a bit older than us we didn’t really move in the same circles, did we?’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Charlotte said wryly. ‘But Jonathan’s just as gorgeous, in a kind of model-like, unattainable way. Pity he doesn’t live here anymore.’ Charlotte grinned. ‘I hear some flaky single mother’s taken over the cottage instead!’

  Anna snorted. ‘Charming as ever, cow!’ She slapped Charlotte on the arm playfully. ‘So where did he go? This even more gorgeous brother?’

  ‘No one really knows,’ Charlotte replied. ‘He still keeps in touch with Jack, so I hear, but he hasn’t been back to the village in years.’

  Anna looked at her watch. ‘I’d better get going – Mum and Dad are cooking lunch.’

  ‘So I’ll be ogling Matthew Carter from afar, alone, as always, then, Merry Widow?’ Charlotte teased, draining her teacup.

  Anna winced. ‘Not interested, Charlotte. And I do wish you’d stop calling me that.’

  ‘Would you prefer I went all tea, sympathy and patronising pats on the hand?’ Charlotte said. ‘You and I have never minced our words with each other – and I’m not about to start now.’

  ‘Point taken,’ Anna said, smiling a little. There were worse nicknames to have, she supposed. ‘But as for the other thing, don’t hold your breath.’

  We’ll see.’ Charlotte grinned. ‘A few months living back here and you’ll realise eye candy is rather thin on the ground. Matthew’s the best we’ve got by a long way, unless you’re into geriatric dairy farmers!’

  Standing up and crossing the kitchen to get her coat and keys, Anna didn’t even grace that with a response.

  *

  ‘Bye Mum, thanks for looking after Ellie.’ Anna kissed her mother goodbye and took her little daughter’s hand.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want Dad to run you home?’ Julia Clarke looked at her daughter, furrowing her brow in concern.

  ‘Nah – thought we’d have a wander down the Strawberry Line as it’s such a nice day.’ Anna appreciated her mother’s lack of probing. The delicate maternal balance was something she relied on, especially at the moment. If her mother had noticed Anna’s still slightly bloodshot eyes when she’d arrived for lunch, she hadn’t mentioned it.

  ‘Well, enjoy – I hope Ellie lasts the distance!’ Julia kissed her daughter and granddaughter and walked them down the drive.

  ‘We will – it’ll be good to get some fresh air.’ Anna hugged her mother again and set off down the path. The winter light streamed through the bare branches of the trees as she and Ellie walked down the Strawberry Line. It was a relaxing walk and she felt rejuvenated by the cold winter air.

  Looking down the path, Anna could make out the old bridleways that led to places she remembered walking, alone and with the odd boyfriend, during the hazy summer days of her adolescence. She’d spent a lot of time roaming the countryside as a teenager; growing up in a village allowed her certain freedoms that she’d taken for granted back then, but was appreciating with new eyes now. As she looked around her, taking in the sights and smells of a sunny winter’s day, she felt as though she was starting to come home.

  Ellie ran a little ahead of her, also enjoying being outside. The passing of time made Anna wistful; her toddler was almost gone and in the blink of an eye would be old enough to take on her own life.

  Full of restless energy from being inside for too long, when Ellie caught sight of a black and white dog about a hundred metres further down the line, she took off. Not for the first time, Anna wished she’d put the reins on her little daughter as she grabbed, a second too late, at the hood of Ellie’s pink coat.

  ‘Eleanor Mary Hemingway, come back here this minute!’ Anna shouted at her daughter’s receding back. Forgetting all vestiges of dignity, Anna raced after the little girl, hoping Ellie would have the sense to stop within a reasonable distance of the dog.

  Thankfully, at that moment, the dog’s owner came into view. Lead in hand, he picked up his own pace slightly as he caught sight of the little girl. By the time Anna reached Ellie, she was stroking the dog, and chatting animatedly to its owner.

  ‘Is it a girl or a boy?’ Ellie’s high-pitched voice rang in the wintry air.

  ‘He’s a boy,’ the owner responded. His back was turned away from Anna as he stooped beside Ellie, but she noticed a curtain of tousled dark hair and a tweed flat cap.

  ‘Ellie, what have I told you about running off like that?’ Anna was breathing heavily and cursing the extra Christmas pounds.

  ‘No harm done,’ the dog’s owner replied, ‘He’s good with children.’

  As the man stood and turned to face her, Anna realised she had strayed again into Matthew Carter’s path.

  ‘Oh. Hello,’ Anna said. She wasn’t quite sure what else to say. Their first encounters hadn’t exactly been friendly.

  ‘Look,’ Matthew said, once Anna had straightened up again. ‘I’m sorry I was rude to you about the problem with your Rayburn. It wasn’t your fault the oil tank was empty; it was a rotten welcome to your new home, wasn’t it?’ He took his tweed cap off and ran a hand absently through his hair.

  Anna was surprised, not just by the apology, but by the fact he seemed so nervous about giving it. This was a man who presided over a successful business empire. Why should he care about apologising to her? She decided to give him the break he asked for.

  ‘Apology accepted,’ she said, smiling. ‘No harm done.’ She stuck out her hand. ‘Shall we try again? I’m Anna Hemingway.’

  Matthew grinned and took her hand. ‘Matthew Carter.’ He gave her a quizzical look. ‘You look familiar… have we met before? I mean, before this whole cottage business?’

  Try as she might, Anna couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. ‘Did you really just say that?’

  ‘No, honestly! I’m not pulling your leg, I promise.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Did you… did you come for a tour of the farm?’

/>   Anna smiled. ‘Funnily enough, I was talking to my friend Charlotte about that earlier on. She saw you coming to the cottage the day I moved in and reminded me.’ As she looked at Matthew, more memories of that night came back to her. It was a less than brief encounter at a tender age; a pair of sparkling eyes in a very public setting; a whiff of chemistry that was commented upon by others, but never to be repeated; the one that wasn’t even there long enough to get away. The scent of fermenting apples on an autumn night; a gentle, understanding smile and a slight, gossamer-light connection.

  ‘I did the tour – you spent most of the evening trying to get the Guides to stop giggling! And was it you, or your friend, who tripped on the steps to the gantry in the barn?’

  Anna’s face turned red as if it was yesterday. ‘It was me,’ she admitted. ‘You were very patient, under the circumstances!’

  ‘There were far worse ways to spend an evening back then.’

  ‘Well… it’s good to see you,’ Anna said, as the conversation paused. Suddenly, Anna remembered the oil tank. ‘I don’t suppose you could give me the number of the oil merchant so I can chase up an invoice for the tank?’

  Matthew smiled again, and Anna found herself thinking how attractive he was when he did. It was such a contrast from the surly expression he’d had when she’d seen him at the cottage. ‘Don’t worry about that. It was our mistake; we’ll pay for it.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that, honestly.’

  ‘I want to.’

  Anna smiled. ‘If you’re sure. Thank you.’

  They regarded each other for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Anna was almost grateful to her small daughter when Ellie broke the small silence, hopping on one leg. ‘Wee wee, Mummy!’

  ‘I’m thankful my daughter Meredith’s well past that stage!’