The Waffle House on the Pier: A gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘Oh, no, it’s only you he’s used the toilet excuse on. Usually he just sneaks out.’

  Sadie slammed her own copy of the history textbook closed and slapped it onto the desk. She bolted out of the room and into the corridor. It was deserted, though she’d hardly expected anything else, because the rest of the school were in lessons, where they ought to be. She marched towards the boys’ toilets. She hardly expected to find the missing Bobby in there either, given what she’d been told, but she didn’t know what else to do. After a brief hesitation, she knocked on the door.

  ‘Bobby!’ she called, as loudly as she dared. She needed him to hear her if by some miracle he was in there, but she didn’t want to alert the whole school to the situation. ‘Bobby… are you in there? Come back to class right now!’

  When she was greeted by depressing but fully expected silence, she turned to go back to class, and saw that almost every member of 3G had now gathered round the open door watching her with some amusement. She had to admit ruefully this was probably the best entertainment they were going to get this week – maybe even this year.

  ‘Want me to go in, Miss?’ a boy asked.

  Sadie was silent for a moment. She didn’t want to lose another but if he was only going into the toilets to check them out, what harm could it do?

  ‘Yes, please…’

  ‘Tristan.’

  ‘Yes, thank you Tristan.’ Sadie looked at the others. ‘The rest of you can go back to your desks.’

  Nobody moved but when Sadie marched towards them with her fiercest glare they shuffled as slowly as they could get away with back into the classroom. She couldn’t have them all gathered out there, drawing unwanted attention to the situation. She closed the door of the room and went back to her desk.

  ‘Right.’ She took up the textbook again and flicked to the right page. ‘We’re going to talk about Hitler today if it kills me.’

  And it probably will…

  ‘Miss!’

  Little-Miss-the-books-are-in-the-cupboard had her hand up again. Sadie let out a long sigh. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Miss, Tristan’s gone home too.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He said he was going to do it when you went out to look for Bobby.’

  ‘And nobody thought to tell me!’ Sadie cried.

  At this, some of the class at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ By now Sadie’s voice was so strangled she was certain it would never go back to normal again. Her first instinct was to go and see if Tristan really had disappeared from the toilets and made a bid for freedom, but she was afraid that she might return to find her entire class had disappeared.

  ‘Want me to go and see if he’s in the bogs?’ Another boy leapt out of his seat.

  ‘No!’ Sadie shouted. ‘Don’t you dare! Nobody else leaves this room, not even if the four horsemen of the apocalypse come riding through with ice cream for all! Understand?’

  ‘Who?’ someone asked.

  Sadie shook her head, fighting to regain some semblance of calm. ‘Never mind. Turn to page eighty-five and read through the first four paragraphs. When you’re done we’ll talk about them.’

  For the first time that day, the room was silent as heads went down to books. But Sadie didn’t see much actual reading going on. There was a lot of doodling, note passing, eraser destroying, boob inspection and gum chewing. By this point she was past caring. They could be constructing a long-range cruise missile and she wouldn’t have given a fig. The main thing was it was quiet so that if the head came past on one of her random corridor inspections (and where had she been when two of her pupils had escaped?) she’d at least give the illusion of having everything under control.

  Sadie rested her head in her hands and closed her eyes for a moment. Before the accident with the boat out at sea with Kat, Sadie had wanted to discuss the waffle house with her. She’d been so full of uncertainty, so torn, and though she valued the opinions of Georgia and Natalie, she didn’t trust that they were necessarily the right people to give her the sound advice she so badly needed. Good solid advice always came from Kat. But the accident had put all of that out of Sadie’s mind (not that it would have been possible to talk about it anyway with all the chaos that followed) and there hadn’t been another chance to bring it up. Even though Sadie had felt torn over the decision, she’d wondered whether the pull to take over the waffle house was for the wrong (though emotionally right) reasons. It was for Gammy more than anything else, because Sadie hated to think of her as a sad, directionless, useless old lady sitting in a retirement village. Twenty years previously, if anyone had asked April what she feared the most in her future, it would have been that. And because Sadie was certain that Gammy would feel the loss of her livelihood and independence so keenly on top of the loss of Gampy, it might just be the end of her.

  On the other hand, it wasn’t the future Sadie had mapped out for herself, the one she’d sacrificed so much for. That was here, represented by this classroom, though today, she wasn’t sure if that future was the right one either. Had it ever been the right one? But if it wasn’t, then what was?

  ‘Miss!’

  Sadie was dragged from her musings by a voice from the front row of desks. Little-Miss-the-books-are-in-the-cupboard was off again. Sadie looked up.

  ‘Miss… is it true you nearly drowned?’

  ‘Who told you that?’ Sadie asked, her heart thumping in her chest now. The school wasn’t in Sea Salt Bay, but in a neighbouring, much bigger town. She would have expected that sort of news to travel round the bay (and it had, at lightning speed) but she wouldn’t have expected it to come this far.

  ‘My cousin, Miss.’

  ‘Does your cousin live in Sea Salt Bay?’

  ‘No, Miss. But my uncle’s ex-wife does and she knows the lifeguard. Was it you, Miss? Did you nearly die?’

  Every head flicked up from their textbooks now and thirty pairs of eyes regarded her with keen interest.

  ‘I don’t think this is a conversation we ought to be having now,’ she said stiffly. ‘This class is not about my private life—’

  Sadie stopped dead. She’d never thought about it like that before, but wasn’t that exactly what had happened? She’d tried to make light of the incident, for Kat and Ewan’s sake and for the sake of her parents and the guy who’d caused the accident and even – to a certain extent – for herself. But if nobody had been there to pull her from the sea as she’d lost consciousness and slipped beneath the waves…

  ‘It was fine,’ she said, shaking herself, though it was harder to shake the sudden slap of realisation, the recognition of just how lucky she’d been that day, how fortunate she was to be alive and how easily the story could have had a much darker ending. For the first time she truly recognised how fleeting and precious life was, how easily it was lost, and the epiphany shocked her to the core.

  ‘Page eighty-five please,’ she said slowly, like a malfunctioning robot. ‘Come on, get on with it.’

  For once there was no argument.

  Chapter Eight

  Sadie’s parents had repeatedly told her that to leave her teaching course was folly. She’d discussed it with them at length, because their family always discussed things, though in truth she’d made up her mind even before the conversations had begun. She was making a huge mistake, they’d said, underestimating how difficult running the waffle house would be, how she might regret her decision. Ewan had taken their side, strongly in agreement, while Kat, for once, had been uncharacteristically reserved in airing her opinions.

  Gammy, on the other hand, had been the most animated Sadie had seen her since Gampy’s death. While she wasn’t exactly jumping for joy, she did seem to be filled with new purpose and set about trying to instruct Sadie in order to help her to be ready when the big day came. Most of what she needed to know Sadie had already gleaned from the years she’d spent hanging around the waffle house, and some of it – though she couldn’t be c
ertain – sounded a bit mixed up. But Gammy still wasn’t really herself and perhaps it would take a while for her to get back into the swing of things. Once she was working again, the tills of the waffle house ringing with the most joyful, satisfying sound, she’d start to come to life again, of that Sadie was sure.

  And in the end, no matter what, Sadie was always going to win the battle to get the waffle house reopened. She had her now infamous knock on the bonce to thank for that. Her parents were just so relieved to have her safe and sound they’d have agreed to almost anything she could think to ask for.

  * * *

  The place had been kept relatively clean during its closure, but April and Sadie went in early anyway on reopening day to give it a more thorough going-over. It had been April’s suggestion – she’d insisted that it had to be cleaner than clean if it was going to give returning customers confidence that the standards hadn’t changed in the time it had been locked up, and that made perfect sense to Sadie.

  April’s seemingly methodical planning and common-sense ideas gave Sadie hope that she’d be back to normal sooner rather than later. It meant that she didn’t see the other, more hidden clues that her hopes might just be dashed. Perhaps she’d simply wanted too badly to believe that her gamble would be a roaring success, to prove all the doubters wrong, to prove to herself that she’d made the right choice when she was still terrified that she hadn’t. Whatever the reasons, in the weeks to come she would wish that she’d taken more notice.

  As it was, Sadie yawned widely as they walked the silent pier, the dawn light still pink and peach over the grey line of the sea. ‘I could do with a coffee before we do anything.’

  April gave her a sideways look. ‘You could have had one before we left. It wouldn’t have mattered if we’d had to leave the house a few minutes later.’

  ‘I did. I’m so tired I need another one! I’m going to need coffee on a drip today. There’s some at the waffle house, right? I never thought to check the larder.’

  ‘If nobody threw the tins away then there ought to be.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone did. I hope not.’

  ‘Then there’ll be some – only enough for a few days if we get busy though. We’ll have to get some more.’

  ‘I hope we do get busy – I’ll be happy enough to go to the wholesalers for coffee once we’ve closed up if it means we’ve sold enough to run out.’

  ‘It might take some time for people to notice we’re open again, darlin’. Have patience.’

  Sadie smiled. She’d always loved that little lick of an accent that Gammy had never lost, despite all the years she and Gampy had spent living in England.

  ‘The first thing I’ll do when we’re cleaned a little is call the wholesaler and see if we can get some essentials delivered. I just hope they’ve kept our account open.’

  ‘Maybe we shouldn’t order too much,’ Sadie said doubtfully. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  Sadie didn’t want to say ‘In case this doesn’t work out and in a few days I realise we’re in way over our heads and have to abandon thoughts of getting the waffle house running again’, because while she’d pushed the idea to everyone, she was by no means confident that they could do it. More to the point, that she herself could do it and – in the long run – whether she’d even want to. She only knew in her heart that something in her life had to change, even if she didn’t know what yet. The waffle house had seemed as good a place as any to dip her toes in the water and test a new direction.

  ‘We just don’t want to spend too much money at first,’ she said instead. ‘In case business takes a while to pick up. Like you said, people might not realise we’re open again straight away. It might take a couple of weeks to be at full capacity again.’

  April shook her head. ‘It won’t take long, darlin’. Once word gets round folks will come back.’

  Her voice was filled with such conviction and optimism that it warmed Sadie to hear it. This was the way to bring Gammy back to them, whatever doubts Sadie might have about her own involvement. And when she felt those doubts, she just had to remind herself of all the reasons she was even trying this and she’d find herself on solid ground again.

  She had the keys in the pocket of her jeans and as they arrived at the front door of the waffle house, she handed them to April.

  ‘Want to do the honours?’

  April didn’t miss a beat. She poked one into the lock and twisted to click it open. They stepped inside together. April looked around in silence, and Sadie’s optimism evaporated as suddenly and completely as sea spray on a sun-baked rock. Her stomach dropped as she saw her grandma’s face.

  It was the first time April had been in since Kenneth’s death. She’d been unwilling to face it, and nobody had imagined that she’d have to, and so they’d shielded her, taking on the basic maintenance until they could get rid of the place. Nobody had really imagined that this day might come, that April would be setting foot in there again and, in doing so, would have to come to terms with the memories of what had happened on that last fateful shift. While coming in here since her grandfather’s death had made Sadie melancholy, she had to imagine what her grandma felt now was more like a breath-stealing smack to the gut in comparison. Looking at her now, she quickly realised that the family’s collective decision had been a mistake, and that the biggest portion of the blame for that mistake now lay with Sadie, as the person who had instigated the reopening of the waffle house. Instead of shielding April, she ought to have brought her back in to see the place the moment they’d agreed a day to start working there again.

  ‘Gammy…’ she began hesitantly. ‘We could just clean today… Open tomorrow? I mean, if this is all a bit too—’

  ‘No, darlin’,’ April said, forcing a smile for her youngest granddaughter. ‘It’s like getting back on that horse after a fall, isn’t it? You can just stand there and look at that creature all day and you’d scare yourself half to death, but then you’d never ride again. Best to just climb right back into that saddle and show him who’s boss.’

  ‘You will take things steady, won’t you?’ Sadie asked carefully. April always hated being reminded that she was well past retirement age and that younger women than her had spent many blissful years by now sitting quietly in their gardens or in favourite reading chairs, not working long hours in a busy eating establishment. Sadie would never dare do that now because she knew that April wasn’t like those women. She’d always thrived on the work and it had kept her sharp and focused and well for all these years. But that was before she’d lost Gampy. His death was an event that had aged her, right before their eyes. Though this morning she looked more like the April Sadie had grown up being in awe of, Sadie was aware that her rehabilitation was by no means a fait accompli.

  ‘Oh, there’s no need to worry.’ April took Sadie’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. It felt thinner, more delicate than Sadie remembered, and rather than reassuring her, as her grandmother had meant, it only made Sadie more uneasy.

  ‘Why don’t I get us that coffee?’ April added. ‘If you like, you can make a start by getting the utilities up and running again and then I can fix our drinks.’

  Sadie nodded. ‘The electricity is already sorted because Dad came in last night to check round and left it on for us. I’ll get the other stuff going. I’m guessing we might have to run the taps for a bit, get some water through the system before we drink it?’

  ‘Oh, don’t you worry about that – I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, I just…’

  Sadie didn’t finish the sentence, because to do that would mean saying out loud all the doubts that currently plagued her and she wouldn’t do that to Gammy, not now. Instead, she pushed a bright smile across her face and went to find the stop tap to get the water supply going again.

  It was stiff, and it took two hands to get it moving, but eventually Sadie heard the satisfying whoosh of the water flooding the system. Then she turned her at
tention to the gas. Even though it was summer, and despite their frequent visits to check round and air the building, the place still felt a little damp and musty. Perhaps an hour of heating would sort that out. Now seemed the best time to do that, while it was still early morning and a little chillier than it would be later on, and so Sadie took it upon herself to fix that too. She listened carefully as the pipes clanked and groaned, but any worries she’d had that they wouldn’t run smoothly were soon put to rest as the radiators began to heat up.

  With all that done, Sadie went back to the dining room to see that April was standing in the middle of the floor, staring into space.

  ‘Gammy?’

  April jumped, and then turned to Sadie, seemingly surprised to see her there.

  ‘Oh my!’

  ‘Gammy… are you OK?’

  ‘Sure, darlin’. But I clean forgot about the coffee, didn’t I?’

  ‘It’s OK. Want me to make it?’

  ‘No, I said I’d do it so I’ll do it. Why don’t you go in the office and call Timpson’s about the batter mix? The number’s in the little claret address book on the shelf. We could do with some batter mix as soon as he can get here. I think there may be some in the larder but probably not much.’

  ‘It’s a bit early, isn’t it? Will they be open yet?’

  ‘Oh…’

  ‘But I could email them from my phone?’

  ‘Sure…’ April said uncertainly. ‘I always call them but…’

  ‘Well if you’d rather do it by telephone then we could do it later. As long as we don’t forget if we get busy in here.’

  April paused for a moment, her gaze going to the windows.

  ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘You’re right. I’m a silly old woman insisting on doing everything the way we’ve always done it. If you want to email go right ahead.’

  Sadie nodded and went through to the tiny office at the back of the restaurant. It was really more of a broom cupboard – narrow, windowless, lined on one wall by shelves. A plank of wood had been attached lower down and fashioned into a sort of desk and on it sat an old telephone, a caddy containing pencils and pens, and a jar of assorted sweets. Sadie looked at the sweets and smiled sadly. Gampy had a sweet tooth that meant he ate sweets in the same way smokers snuck out for crafty cigarettes, and he’d frequently retreat to the office pretending to do admin but really using it as an excuse to sit munching on his candy. Sadie often thought it was a wonder he had any teeth at all, but by some miracle, despite his advanced years and sugar intake, he did have some, though the gaps had been gradually filled by dentures in later years. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d had none though, because he still would have found some way to eat his sugary treats. And if he wasn’t eating sweets secretly in the back, when the shop had closed he’d have Gammy cook him a special waffle or pancake.