Starry Skies Over the Chocolate Pot Cafe

by Jessica Redland

We clung to each other, sobbing.

  ‘Do I get one of those?’ said a voice.

  I pulled away and looked down the hall at my foster father. Thinner, less hair, greyer, but still with that warm smile that crinkled at his eyes.

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’ I hurled myself at Tim and held him tightly.

  ‘It’s so good to see you,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you for coming back to us.’

  When the emotions had settled, we made our way into the cosy lounge where a real fire was burning in a grate.

  ‘You’re so grown up. And so beautiful.’ Kirsten stepped back, holding my hands in hers and looking at me with such intensity that it felt as though she was trying to imprint my image on her brain in case I ever left again.

  ‘I’m so sorry I left you both. I just couldn’t stay.’

  ‘We understand. Don’t we, Tim?’

  ‘We’re the ones who are sorry,’ he said.

  ‘No! Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.’

  Kirsten indicated for me to sit with her on the sofa and Tim sat on the armchair beside her.

  ‘How much do you know?’ I asked.

  Kirsten took my hand. ‘Everything. Or at least we think so. I found your letter in my copy of Pollyanna. That was clever of you. We confronted Leanne and she pleaded ignorance for days. We were worried sick. It was only when Tim said he was going to the police to report you as a missing person that she started talking.’

  ‘We know about Leanne and Garth’s…’ Tim paused as though trying to find the right word. ‘… interests. And we know about the house in Surrey and the secret room.’

  Secret room? That was a nice way of putting it. My pulse raced as I pictured ‘the dungeon’ again – the place that had frequently haunted me over the years.

  ‘It’s gone, by the way,’ Tim said. ‘There was a fire.’

  ‘The Manor burned down? Oh my God! What happened?’

  ‘Arson, but nothing to do with Garth or Leanne,’ Kirsten said. ‘It must have been a couple of years after you left. Some local kids broke in to have a party and managed to set light to some curtains. They ran off without calling the fire brigade and the fire took hold. With the house being set back from the road and surrounded by woodland, it was only when it was fully ablaze that someone saw the smoke and, by that time, it was too late.’

  ‘The secret room wasn’t so secret anymore,’ Tim added. ‘It was all over the local papers but it made the nationals when they discovered that the Deputy Commissioner of Clubs and Vice was the owner.’

  I clapped my hand over my mouth, the irony of his promotion not lost on me. ‘No! Bet the news story didn’t do his career any good.’

  ‘I think early retirement was the phrase they used,’ Kirsten said.

  ‘He loved being in the police.’ I shook my head, feeling a tiny sliver of sympathy for him. Losing his job would have destroyed him. Then I thought about the job I’d lost thanks to him. And the home. And the family. The sliver slithered away. ‘What did he tell everyone about me leaving?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ Kirsten said. ‘As soon as we learned the truth, we cut him off completely. We only knew about him losing his job because it was in the papers.’

  I sat back, taking it all in. ‘You know he married me as a cover?’

  Kirsten nodded. ‘Leanne told us about the rumours at work and how she’d set up dates with her other foster sisters before introducing you to Garth.’

  I gasped. ‘I didn’t know she’d done that.’

  She grimaced. ‘Sorry to be the one to tell you. Obviously we didn’t know about the others and we genuinely believed he loved you or we’d never have—’

  I took Kirsten’s hand and squeezed it. ‘You can’t blame yourself. We were together for over three years and I had no idea it was all fake so how could you possibly have known?’ I took a deep breath. ‘So did Leanne tell you how she got me ready for becoming his girlfriend?’

  Kirsten nodded. ‘We thought she was being a nice big sister spending all that time shopping with you and doing makeovers. We didn’t know she had an ulterior motive.’

  Shopping and makeovers? They didn’t know. Looking from Kirsten to Tim, I knew I couldn’t tell them about my ‘playmates’. They knew most of what had happened and the guilt and devastation was obvious in their expressions. If I told them that Leanne’s teachings had extended way beyond how to use a pair of GHDs, who could it possibly benefit?

  ‘What about Leanne?’ I asked. ‘One of your earlier letters said you weren’t in touch following a cocaine incident and her stealing from the business. Did that change at all?’

  Tim stood up. ‘I think it’s a good time to make some drinks. Would you like tea, coffee, or a soft drink?’

  ‘Black coffee, please,’ I said.

  ‘Tea for me,’ Kirsten said.

  When Tim closed the lounge door, she shook her head slowly. ‘He finds it hard to talk about her.’

  My pulse raced. ‘She’s not dead, is she?’

  Kirsten shook her head again. ‘It sounds awful to say it but it might be easier on Tim if she was. I don’t know, Tamara. We clearly did something very wrong to have raised such a wicked person.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. You were brilliant parents. She had everything she could possibly have wanted and a whole lot more but she chose a different path. You didn’t teach her to lie and steal and shove coke up her nose. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t teach her how to use all that stuff I saw in The Manor.’

  ‘Oh, gosh, no!’ Kirsten shuddered. ‘I can’t bear to think about that. I’ve no idea how she got into that sort of lifestyle.’

  ‘Which proves my point. She got into it. She chose it. You raised me too and I didn’t choose any of those things.’

  She looked at me with such pride. ‘No. You chose kindness, like we always knew you would.’

  ‘So what happened to Leanne?’ I asked.

  ‘After we cut her off, it was all drugs, alcohol and bad boyfriends, then she turned up and said she wanted to get clean so, as promised, we funded a stint in rehab. She managed a couple of weeks clean, then it was drugs, alcohol, bad boyfriends, rehab, drugs, alcohol… It’s been a repetitive cycle for years. We wouldn’t hear from her for months and months but, every so often, she’d come back to us with her tail between her legs, promising this was the time she’d finally stay clean. We paid for rehab each time, always hoping, but we knew she only reappeared because she was broke again and saw rehab as some sort of luxury retreat. The only way an addict is ever going to change is if they really want to and, sadly, Leanne didn’t want it.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. That must have been heart-breaking, especially if you knew she had no intention of ever changing.’

  Tim reappeared with a wooden tray containing the drinks and a plate of shortbread biscuits. ‘Have you told her about Leanne?’

  ‘Nearly finished. I’ve told her about rehab.’

  ‘By rehab, you mean her annual holiday?’

  It broke my heart to hear Tim sounding so defeated. ‘It must be so hard on you both.’

  He nodded. ‘It has been but it’s over now. We’re not doing it again. Ever.’

  ‘She turned up a few weeks after my diagnosis, clearly high on goodness knows what, demanding to be taken to the clinic immediately,’ Kirsten said. ‘Tim told her that she’d need to wait because he was taking me to a hospital appointment. You’d think that the obvious response would be to ask why I was going to hospital but she didn’t seem interested. Just continued to place her demands.’

  ‘So I told her Kirsten had cancer,’ Tim said. ‘And do you know what she did? She laughed. She said it was karma for everything we’d put her through and she hoped it was incurable.’

  I clapped my hand across my mouth. Leanne was selfish and manipulative but this was a new low. ‘That’s… I can’t even think of a word for it. Who says something like that?’

  Tim sighed and shook his head. ‘That was the last straw. She’s had far more chances t
han anyone deserves so I told her we were through. Told her to leave and never to come back.’

  ‘We haven’t heard from her since,’ Kirsten said. ‘We don’t know where she is and we sold Vanilla Pod and The Larches afterwards so she has no way of finding us either. The new owners of both know not to pass on any information if she does come looking for us.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘Enough about her. Let’s talk about you. I can’t tell you how much it meant to us both to get your phone call last week. We’d resigned ourselves to losing both our daughters and now we’ve got you back. Good things come to those who wait.’

  ‘It really is wonderful to see you, Tamara,’ Tim said.

  ‘And it’s wonderful to see both of you. You probably already noticed it in the article about the awards but I’m not called Tamara anymore…’

  Over the next few hours, we talked incessantly, only pausing for some lunch. They wanted to know what had drawn me to Whitsborough Bay and they loved that I’d let fate decide. I told them all about finding the premises and the challenges I’d initially faced in refurbishing the flat. Kirsten wanted to hear about the food I served and Tim was fascinated by my work in the community.

  Conscious that I was in danger of dominating the conversation, I made sure they told me more about their major life-decisions around Tim retiring, Kirsten selling Vanilla Pod, and selling their beautiful home. And, of course, I was keen to hear all about Kirsten’s health.

  I marvelled at how positive they both sounded, despite going through hell, thanks to Leanne and to Kirsten’s cancer diagnosis. And me. It could have broken some couples yet they seemed stronger than ever. When I was little, Dad had very clearly been Mum’s lighthouse. Much as he’d loved and needed her, he’d been the one with all the light and strength. It wasn’t like that for Kirsten and Tim. It was clear that Kirsten was Tim’s lighthouse and he was hers. They’d faced many stormy seas and they’d helped each other to safety. It was early days in my relationship with Jed but it scared me that I was already leaning on him too much, just like Mum had leaned on Dad. We’d been out for a meal together on Saturday night and for a bracing walk along the seafront on Sunday after the gallery closed but the conversation had mainly been about me and how I felt about opening up the past with Kirsten and Tim. He’d been there for me while I poured out everything I was feeling – fear, resentment, regret – providing constant reassurance that everything would work out. If there was any chance of us lasting, we had to have a partnership. He couldn’t be the strong one all the time.

  As the afternoon slipped towards dusk, the inevitable observation came from Kirsten. ‘You haven’t mentioned any boyfriends or children…?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘That’s because there haven’t been any.’

  ‘Because of Garth?’

  There was no point lying about it. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone after that so I threw myself into the business and never dated again.’

  ‘Oh, honey, Garth was… Gosh, I don’t know what he was but he wasn’t representative of most men.’

  ‘I know but the damage was done. I have met someone recently, though. Actually, I met him fourteen and a half years ago and hated him nearly as much as I hated Garth but he’s back in my life and things are very different. We’re taking things slowly because he has baggage too…’

  I told them about how Jed and I first met, what happened when he came back to the UK and how I started to see him in a different light. Colour flooded my cheeks and I couldn’t stop smiling as I talked about him giving me the lighthouse picture and kissing me for the first time.

  ‘He sounds like a keeper,’ Kirsten said.

  ‘Do you think so? It’s been such a long time since I had a man in my life and that one turned out to be a fake. I don’t know how to do relationships.’

  ‘I don’t think there is a specific way,’ Kirsten said, giving me a reassuring smile. ‘If you want my advice, I’d say just be yourself and talk to Jed. Tell him when you’re feeling anxious and tell him if you think it’s going too fast or not quickly enough.’

  ‘I agree,’ Tim said. ‘Several little things that could be resolved over a couple of uncomfortable but honest conversations can soon fester and grow until all you have is arguments and resentment. We’ve known too many couples call it quits over the years because they didn’t talk about things when they had a chance.’

  Kirsten nodded. ‘But, equally, don’t create problems that don’t exist. Jed isn’t Garth. From what you’ve told me, he sounds like a genuine, honest, caring man and I know you already know that because you wouldn’t have let him in otherwise.’

  I smiled at her insight. ‘I think – hope – that he’s another of those good things that come to those who wait. If I don’t mess it up.’

  ‘You won’t mess it up.’

  ‘I hope not. Thank you, both of you.’

  Kirsten kept yawning and I could see Tim giving her anxious looks. ‘I should probably go and let you get some rest.’ I made to stand up but Kirsten grabbed my hand.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘Maybe a bit sleepy but real fires do that to you.’

  ‘True, but so does recovering from cancer and you need some rest.’

  She looked as though she was going to object again but Tim spoke up. ‘How about we make arrangements to see Tama… Tara’s café? Would Thursday work for you, Tara?’

  ‘Thursday would be great,’ I said.

  ‘What about tomorrow?’ Kirsten suggested. Behind her, Tim was frantically shaking his head. Clearly Kirsten needed the rest.

  ‘I’ve got a few things on tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to give you much attention. Thursday works really well, though. I can show you round the café and flat and introduce you to Hercules.’

  ‘And Jed?’ Kirsten asked, winking at me.

  ‘Yes, and Jed if he’s up for it although I’m pretty sure he said there’s something on at Lucy’s college on Thursday. I’ll check with him.’ I stood up. ‘Before I go, I have something to ask you both. You can say no if you want.’

  They both looked at me expectantly, making my pulse race.

  ‘I’ve asked you to call me Tara but, in exchange, I wondered if I could call you something I’ve never called you before. Could I call you Mum and Dad?’ I’d called Kirsten ‘mum’ when I first phoned but it had slipped out in a moment of intense emotion. I’d given it a lot of thought since then and, while I would never forget my biological parents, Kirsten and Tim were my parents too and it felt right to acknowledge that. Even though I’d pushed them out of my life, they’d never given up hope of having their daughter back. They were my family.

  Tim hadn’t cried when I arrived but he broke down now. Hugging me tightly, he whispered ‘thank you’ over and over again. When he released me, Kirsten took me in her arms and kissed my cheek.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,’ I said.

  ‘You weren’t ready. It always had to be your choice but you’ve made your old mum and dad very, very happy. More good things that come to those who wait.’

  By the time I arrived back at The Chocolate Pot, I felt drained. I loved how they both understood why I’d needed to cut them off and didn’t make me feel guilty for doing so. It would have been so easy to talk about the missed years with regret, yet they didn’t do that either. They were – and always had been – two very special, loving people.

  Standing outside the café with my keys in my hand, I turned and looked up at Yorkshire’s Best. The first-floor lights were on and I could see movement inside. I had planned to send Jed a text to let him know I was back safe, then take a bath and settle down for a quiet evening in front of the TV with Hercules but now I longed to feel Jed’s strong arms wrapped round me. I took my phone out of my bag.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about you all day,’ he said as soon as he answered. ‘How was it?’

  ‘Exactly how you predicted. Difficult but amazing. Mostly amazing.’

  ‘Where are you?’

 
; ‘Look outside.’

  Seconds later, Jed appeared at the window and waved. ‘Do you want me to come over or would you prefer some alone-time? No pressure. Whatever you want.’

  I smiled. ‘Can you give me ten minutes to freshen up and feed Hercules then come over?’

  Being alone had always been my default setting but it didn’t need to be anymore. If this thing between us was going to work, I had to keep letting him in and letting him be part of my life.

  39

  Thursday morning dawned mild and bright. The blue skies and sunshine acted like a magnet, drawing hordes of Christmas shoppers into Whitsborough Bay. From about 10 a.m., The Chocolate Pot was packed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a queue before noon on a weekday. Laugher and excitable chatter bounced off the walls and there was the constant aroma of coffee, pastries and chocolate hanging in the air.

  Mum had originally suggested driving over to the café for lunch but I persuaded them to come for afternoon tea instead which was just as well because lunchtime was so busy that I’d have barely been able to give them the time of day.

  It was still busy as we approached mid-afternoon with only a couple of spare tables, but the lack of queue gave us some breathing space. Leaning against the counter, I absorbed the happy pre-Christmas buzz. This year, I didn’t need to dread Christmas. This year things were going to be very different.

  At the cottage on Tuesday, Mum had asked if I had plans for Christmas Day. My heart leapt at the thought of a good old-fashioned family Christmas dinner, then sank when I realised I did have plans. Months earlier, I’d volunteered to help cook Christmas dinner at The Hope Centre. I certainly wasn’t going to let them down now that I had other options. Mum and Dad weren’t fazed, saying there were plenty more hours in the day to meet up when I finished volunteering.

  Leaning on the counter, thinking about having somewhere to go and people to see when I finished my shift at The Hope Centre made me quite tearful. I was wiping my eyes when Mum and Dad arrived for afternoon tea.

  ‘Tara! What’s happened?’ Mum asked, a look of panic on her face.