I frowned, surprised at his friendly tone. ‘Very. I can’t wait to get in there. I’ve already got a builder lined up and a rapidly-filling storage unit.’
‘If you want to get started, I have no objections. It’s empty. I’m only here today to take the final meter readings because I forgot to do it yesterday. I won’t be back again.’
I frowned at him. ‘What’s the catch?’
He shook his head, smiling. ‘There’s no catch. The place is empty so, if you’re ready to get going, you might as well make a three-week headstart and be open in time to catch the summer trade.’
‘So what’s in it for you?’
He laughed gently. ‘Are you always this suspicious of people? Why does there have to be a catch or something in it for me?’
‘Because I generally find that people only do nice things to serve their own purpose.’
He put his hands up in surrender. ‘I’m the one taking the risk here. I’d be handing over the keys before you’ve paid me. But it’s up to you. The offer’s there. I can drop the keys off with Ian when I’m done here or you can wait another three weeks and get started then.’
I looked into his eyes and he seemed genuine enough. Not that I was a good judge of character after what Leanne and Garth did. I couldn’t think how he could benefit, though. He was right; I’d be the one accessing the building before I’d paid him a penny and I was the one who’d be able to open in time for the lucrative summer trade.
‘Thank you. You’re on.’ I held out my hand and we shook on it and, for the first time, I gave him a genuine smile. Maybe not all people were bad.
Turns out I should have trusted my first instinct. Jed was no different to Leanne or Garth. He used, he manipulated and he lied. Two weeks later – a week before the official completion – my builder, Owen, and his team had made massive progress. They’d skimmed the walls, sanded and varnished the stairs, laid new floors, and re-fitted the kitchen. The biggest difference was outside, though. With the ripped canopy gone and the whole exterior repaired and painted in a warm peach, it now looked classy instead of tired. It was taking shape very nicely and I was on an absolute high. Another two to three weeks and we’d be open for business.
Then Ian phoned. There was another offer on the table of ten grand more and I could up my offer or lose the business.
‘He can’t do that,’ I yelled down the phone. ‘I’ve spent a fortune on work already.’
‘You’re not the official owner yet,’ he replied sharply. ‘You should never have done anything before contracts were exchanged. I’m sorry, but I don’t see that you have a choice.’
‘Then give me Jed’s number and I’ll have it out with him.’ I was actually shaking with rage.
‘You know I can’t do that.’
‘This is so unfair. I can’t talk about it right now. I’ll have to call you back when I’m not so mad.’ I hung up on him.
I nearly wore a hole in the carpet pacing up and down in the flat and stamping my feet. It was so typical of how people worked. Ian was right; I had no leg to stand on. I should have insisted on an early exchange of contracts. I should have had something in writing but, once again, I’d been naïve and I’d let a man dupe me. Jed was probably rolling around laughing that he’d managed to screw me over like that. Would I ever learn?
When I’d finally calmed down, I had to accept that I had no choice because I was far too financially and emotionally committed already. I called Ian back and reluctantly increased my offer in response to Jed’s blackmail. Ian didn’t appreciate the use of that word. He could package it up however he wanted but we both knew I’d been conned and I was livid with myself for allowing it to happen.
The following Monday, contracts were exchanged ahead of Thursday’s completion but I arrived at the café to find more bad news.
‘Did you get a full structural survey?’ asked Owen.
I shook my head. ‘Just a valuation.’ My stomach sank. ‘Dare I ask why?’
‘Come with me.’
I followed him up the internal stairs to the flat. ‘I know we’re not doing anything with the flat yet but after that torrential downpour last night, I thought I’d check there’d been no leaks.’
He pushed open the door and I followed him to the far corner and into the poor excuse for a bathroom. Chunks of soggy plasterboard lay on the floor and there were dirty marks where water had trickled down the walls.
‘A standard valuation should have picked this up,’ Owen said. ‘But someone has bodge-repaired it recently. These plasterboards are new.’
‘I wonder who’d do something devious like that,’ I said flatly, my fists clenching.
‘We’ll need to let it dry out but then repairing it is going to have to be a priority to avoid further damage.’
I clenched my teeth as he gave me a rough estimate which cemented my absolute contempt for Jed because, on top of the offer increase, it meant I’d been ripped off to the tune of about twenty grand. And the real rub was that it was my fault again for not commissioning a full structural survey. Another valuable lesson learned the hard way. Don’t trust anyone. Ever.
10
Present day
My first shift in The Chocolate Pot after taking down the Christmas decorations always felt flat. With the fairy lights, decorations and tree packed away until November, we were back to everyday normality. The excitement was gone, the anticipation was gone and somehow the magic was gone. And, despite how emotionally draining I found the festive period each year, I missed it. Talk about a contradiction, desperate for it all to go away, then feeling sad when it did.
It was mid-morning on a dull but dry Monday. The upstairs was closed and the downstairs was about half-full, mainly with elderly shoppers meeting friends for coffee and cake. I slowly ran a damp cloth over the counter. It didn’t need cleaning but it gave me something to do.
‘Penny for them,’ Sheila said, emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel.
‘I’m not sure they’re worth a penny, Sheila. I was just thinking about how different the place looks with all the decorations gone.’
Sheila nodded. ‘I said the exact same thing to my Eric when we took ours down at home. Shame we can’t have that Christmas magic all year round. Mind you, I think this place has its own magic all the time. There’s always been something special about The Chocolate Pot.’
She grabbed a mug and filled it with hot water. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘No thanks. I’ve just had one. You really think it’s magical in here?’ Compliments about the café always made me feel warm inside.
‘My Eric says I’m soft in the head when I say stuff like this but I’ve always had this unshakeable feeling that someone’s watching over The Chocolate Pot, making it a warm and happy place to be.’ She turned to me and smiled, her eyebrows raised with an unspoken question.
Yes. I feel it. Every single day. But I couldn’t tell Sheila that so I shrugged. ‘I’m glad you like it here.’
I watched her swirl her teabag then drop it into the bin. ‘My Eric says I talk nonsense. He says it’s because I love my job, work with some great people and this place is so colourful, but I’m not so sure. There’s something about The Chocolate Pot. I can be in a right foul mood then I step through the door and I’m instantly lifted.’
‘Definitely the sea of colour.’ I hoped my voice sounded light-hearted and my expression didn’t betray the emotions swirling inside of me.
‘You’ve created something really special here.’ She smiled at me. ‘Oh well, best be getting on. Those quiches won’t bake themselves.’
I leaned against the counter when she disappeared into the kitchen, my heart racing. Why hadn’t I been able to respond properly? All I needed to say was: Yes, Sheila, I feel it too. I think it’s my parents. Would that really have been so difficult? I sighed and shook my head. Yes, it would.
Rinsing out a cloth, I wiped down the front of the drinks fridges. Why hadn’t Sheila directly asked m
e if I felt the same? The question had been clear in her expression but why hadn’t she said it out loud? My shoulders drooped. Of course. Because anytime anyone asked me anything that wasn’t about the business, I clammed up. I changed the subject. I went quiet. So they’d stopped asking. They’d stopped trying to get to know me because I’d made it obvious I wasn’t willing to share. Somewhere along the way, they’d stopped sharing information with me too. Did I really know any of my team? I knew that Cody and Lana were going to university in September, but did I know what they were studying or their career aspirations? Not a clue. I knew Niamh was going on maternity leave, but I knew nothing about her partner, or even if she had a partner. Why wasn’t she coming back after maternity leave? I’d never asked.
‘I’m a bad person,’ I said to Hercules when I returned to the flat after work. ‘I’ve shut them all out. They’ve got families and lives that I’ve shown no interest in. I’ve never asked questions and I’ve closed down conversation-starters. For what? Because I was too scared to let anyone into my life so I’ve avoided being let into theirs.’
Starting tomorrow, things were going to have to change. I wasn’t about to let the world and his wife know about my past, but I could open up about a few things. Why had I never told anyone about Hercules or either of his predecessors? Why didn’t I admit I was into hygge? Why didn’t I tell them I was The Cobbly Crafter? And why didn’t I ask them about their lives? Why was every conversation about work?
Glancing at the clock, I tutted. I needed to get sorted and out to my meeting. I lifted Hercules off my knee and prepared him some fresh vegetables.
‘Should I tell the team about you?’ I asked him as he tucked into his food.
But doubt set in. How would I suddenly introduce a giant house bunny into a conversation about the day’s specialist brownies? Maybe I’d start with asking them questions instead and gradually build up to sharing information. Maybe.
I felt guilty leaving Hercules on his own for the evening, but it was time for my Bay Trade meeting. They were only held monthly so I didn’t like to miss one. Bay Trade was a group of entrepreneurs from in and around Whitsborough Bay. It had been set up by an artist and jewellery-maker called Skye, her partner, Stuart, and their best friend, Nick. The idea was to share business news and ideas, help each other, promote each other and exchange services for ‘mates’ rates’, or even for free where appropriate. They only let one of each type of business join so I was the only café-owner in town which made me feel pretty special and was another reason for keeping up regular attendance.
Many of the Castle Street traders were members including Carly, Jemma who ran the teddy bear shop, Charlee who owned the chocolate shop, and Ginny who owned The Wedding Emporium on the other side of The Chocolate Pot. Sarah, the owner of Seaside Blooms, had married Nick a few years back so she was an active committee member. I classed those people – and many of the other Castle Street traders – as friends yet, like my team, I barely knew any of them. I’d attended monthly meetings, gone on pub crawls and leaving dos with them, and had helped them all out with their businesses at one time or another yet, with the exception of Carly, I only knew superficial details about their lives and they knew nothing about me. I hadn’t wanted to let anyone in to hurt me again but I’d gone so much further than that. I’d completely retreated from the world.
Running down the stairs, I rang Carly. ‘Hi, it’s me. Are you coming to Bay Trade?’
‘Oh my goodness, is it tonight? I’ve completely lost track of what day we are. Hang on.’ I listened to a muffled conversation, presumably with Liam. ‘Hi, Tara. Yes. Give me five minutes to change my top and I’ll be down. Shall I knock for you?’
‘Yes please.’
I sat down on one of the chairs by the window but couldn’t sit still. My heart was racing and my palms were sweating. I felt like I was on that precipice again, like when I’d talked to Carly about my family but, this time, I wasn’t torn between screaming and crying. This time, I wanted to jump, knowing that there was a safety net to catch me. There were people round me who cared. I hadn’t let them in, but they genuinely cared. It was time.
Carly and I walked up to Minty’s together – a popular bar at the top of town. The owner was a member of Bay Trade and was happy for us to use the function room upstairs with Monday being a quiet night in the bar.
Our meetings were fairly informal but there was always a slot at the start where the members could share news or flag up any issues with which they wanted support.
‘Good evening,’ Skye said, ‘and a Happy New Year to you all. I hope you had a good Christmas and New Year, business-wise and celebration-wise. I have a few messages from members. Karen and Steff from Bay Fitness are offering a twenty-five per cent discount on the first three months of bootcamps to anyone who signs up this month, but they’re making that forty per cent for Bay Trade members which is an exceptional saving. So have a word with Karen and Steff if you’re interested, and please spread the word among your customers.’
‘We’ve got some fliers if anyone can put any in their business,’ Karen said, waving some fliers in the air. I smiled at her. Karen ran my Pilates class on a Tuesday evening and I was pretty certain she ran a bootcamp right before it. I’d never looked into bootcamp but maybe I’d give it a try at those prices. Like Colin with the same order every day, I had definitely become a creature of habit and I was the only one who could change that.
‘Mandy’s moving premises,’ Skye said. ‘Sleek Cut will be in that new row of shops at the top of Ocean Ravine from next week and she’s offering discounts to anyone producing one of her fliers.’
Mandy, Bay Trade’s hairdresser, also waved a wad of fliers in the air.
‘And, speaking of premises,’ Skye continued, ‘the last bit of news comes from outside the group. We’ve been approached by someone looking for premises in the town centre, ideally on Castle Street, although they’re open to other locations if the premises are big enough. If any of you are thinking of selling up later this year or know of anyone who is, please let one of the committee know.’
‘Who is it?’ someone shouted.
Skye shrugged and looked at her partner, Stuart, suggesting she wasn’t sure.
‘The person who approached us has asked to remain anonymous,’ Stuart said. ‘Sorry, guys.’
‘Why anonymous?’ I asked. ‘Are they planning to set up in competition with one of us?’
It was Stuart’s turn to shrug. ‘I genuinely don’t know what they’re planning to do. All I know is that they aren’t doing it until late in the year.’
‘Anyone else got anything they want to raise?’ Skye asked.
I took a deep breath and stood up. ‘Yes. Me.’ I moved to the front to stand alongside Skye and Stuart. ‘I did some thinking over New Year. I’ve got an idea, and I wondered if anyone would like to join me. Between us, we’ve got an amazing amount of knowledge and experience in how to run a business and I’m sure we’ve also got some valuable experience in what not to do.’ I paused as I took in the smiles and nods of heads. ‘My proposal is to work with local colleges and the university to establish a mentoring programme for any students or even any staff who might be thinking of setting up their own business. It doesn’t have to be something big like setting up a shop or café. It could be anything like making cards to sell at craft fairs, offering guitar lessons, tutoring, dog-walking, vlogging. We could provide advice and guidance on their business plan, how to keep their accounts, how to handle marketing and publicity. It may be that students work with one mentor or they work with several of us depending on our areas of expertise. Anyone interested in joining me?’
I had a heart-stopping moment when the room was silent, then hands started shooting in the air and there were murmurs of ‘great idea’ and ‘I’m in’.
‘Sounds like you’ve got lots of interest,’ Skye said. ‘I’m certainly up for it. How do you want to proceed?’
‘I propose that anyone who’s interested meets at
The Chocolate Pot at half seven next Monday evening and we throw a few ideas around. I might even provide drinks on the house.’
‘And brownies?’ someone shouted.
I laughed. ‘Ooh, now you’re pushing it. But, if you want to find out if I do, you’ll have to come along, won’t you?’
Heart thumping, I retreated to my seat beside Carly. I’d run staff meetings but I’d never stood up and addressed a large group like that in the whole of my life. It had given me quite a buzz, especially when they reacted so positively.
‘Go, you!’ Carly whispered. ‘I’m loving that idea. I’m definitely in.’
‘Thank you. I just hope some of them turn up on Monday.’
‘They will. I know it.’
Ninety minutes or so later, Carly and I walked back towards Castle Street together.
‘Do you need to rush back, or have you got time for a hot chocolate?’ I asked as we approached our end of the cobbles.
‘There’s something on your mind, isn’t there?’
I nodded and took a deep breath. ‘I want to tell you about Garth.’
11
Nineteen and a half years ago
I was extremely grateful for everything that Kirsten and Tim Sanderson did for me financially and I never took it for granted, but I didn’t need a private education, holidays abroad and a wardrobe full of designer clothes to make me happy. What I needed was stability and people who genuinely cared about me and I was very fortunate because they also gave me that. And they gave me a big sister.
Leanne was beautiful and, as far as I could see, it was on the inside as well as the outside. She exuded confidence and she taught me to believe in myself. That’s the one thing I will always remain glad about because she turned a mouse of a girl into a self-assured woman and that strength of character has always remained with me.
Starry Skies Over the Chocolate Pot Cafe Page 7
