‘Thanks, Isla.’ Annie threw her an apologetic smile, but Isla could see she was worried as to what it was Noeline wanted to talk to her about. She watched them until they’d disappeared out the back. The only familial similarity Isla could see between them was their hair, but for one of them that colour definitely wasn’t natural.
Chapter 18
Isla wasn’t on her own in the tearoom for long, and her face broke into a wide grin upon recognizing the customer who’d just closed the door behind her. ‘Miss McDougall! How are you?’ It was Bibury Area School’s former secretary. Isla had a soft spot for her; she’d always been kind to Isla whenever she’d wound up in the school’s sick bay or needed a plaster after a grievous playground injury. Even when she’d been marched into the office by a jubilant Miss Seastrand, Isla had always felt Violet McDougall was secretly on her side.
She was dressed in the same style she always dressed in when Isla was still a pupil at the school. A plain blouse with the skirt just below the knee, and flat, sensible shoes. If the weather were not so muggy, Isla knew she would also be wearing her trusty cardigan. Isla and her friends had used to joke that she had a different coloured cardigan for each day of the week in winter. Her hair was cut in the same blunt, ash blonde bob style, and her eyes shone a familiar, bright and twinkly blue.
‘Oh goodness! Isla dear, call me Violet, you’re not a child anymore.’
Isla wasn’t sure she wanted to. It was a bit like calling one of your mum’s friends, who you’d always addressed as Aunty so and so, by their first name. It never seemed to trip off the tongue easily. ‘Er, alright then, Violet. How’s retirement suiting you?’
‘Retirement, what’s that? I’m busier than I ever was. Have you met my replacement, Saralee yet? She’s stepping out with your old flame, Ben Robson.’
Isla bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep her expression neutral. ‘I have yes, she’s a nice girl.’
‘Say it like you mean it dear.’
Isla flashed her an apologetic grin and wondered if Miss McDougall still hankered after the school’s Principal. It had been entertaining when sitting in the office, waiting for whatever punishment was about to be bestowed to witness her and Miss Seastrand try to outdo one another as they vied for his attention. They were both desperate to catch the widower’s eye, but he’d always seemed oblivious to their carry on.
‘All I meant was that you’d be a hard act to follow.’
‘I know exactly what you meant dear. Now, what about you, what are you doing with yourself?’
Isla explained that she was in limbo with regards to work but that she was manning the tearoom while Annie and Noeline were out the back.
‘Well, there’s no need to disturb them. I’m sure you can manage to make me a pot of tea, and I’ll have one of those Belgium biscuits please.’ Violet fossicked in her purse and thrust a note at Isla who did as she was told, and went behind the counter.
‘Righty-ho. Just bear with me while I figure the till out.’ She flexed her fingers and was proud of herself when the drawer pinged open, and she managed to count out the correct change. She set about making the tea, and as she put Violet’s order down in front of her without slopping any milk from the jug, the ex-secretary patted the empty seat next to her. ‘Sit down for a bit Isla, and tell me all about that glamorous life of yours in London. I do love hearing how our old pupils are getting on.’
Isla was happy to oblige, and the two women soon found common ground when Isla, knowing of Violet’s passion for the Scottish Society mentioned a trip she’d made to Edinburgh. Violet had gotten so excited hearing of this visit to her ancestral home that Isla had thought she might leap up from her seat and demonstrate a highland fling. They’d moved on to the Scottish Society’s use of the Barker’s Ridge Hall once a month. Violet was busy telling Isla her concerns that if Bridget got her way and the hall was done up then the society might not be able to afford the increase in rent it would no doubt bring. Isla got the distinct impression she was hoping she’d have a word in her gran’s ear but before Violet could attempt a bribe, Noeline reappeared.
‘Violet! How are you, my dear? I haven’t seen you since you retired. You’re looking well on it. Being a lady of leisure obviously suits you.’
Violet snorted. ‘I’ve hardly had time to catch my breath, I’ve been so busy since I left the school. I was just telling Isla that the Scottish Society keeps me busier than ever. We’ve just been enjoying a cup of tea and a catch up. And, you dear, how are you keeping?’
‘Oh, I’m very well Violet, very well indeed. Watch this space.’ She tapped the side of her nose with a red fingernail. ‘Exciting things are afoot.’
Violet opened her mouth to inquire as to what those exciting things might be, but Noeline was already at the door. ‘Must run, places to be and people to see. You know how it is ladies. Toodle-oo.’
‘Well, I wonder what that was all about,’ Violet said putting her teacup back in the saucer. ‘I’d best be getting on my way too. It’s been lovely seeing you again dear.’
‘You too Miss Mc – er Violet.’
‘And perhaps you could have a word in your gran’s ear?’
Isla smiled. ‘Will do.’ Violet nodded her thanks and left.
‘Is the coast clear?’ Annie asked, poking her head around the kitchen door as the door banged shut. She looked very down in the mouth to Isla.
‘Yes, it’s just me here. Come on out and tell me what that was all about.’
Annie mooched in and slouched over the counter her chin resting in her hands. ‘Aunty Noeline’s selling up. She’s going home to ring my dad; he’s an estate agent, and she wants him to list the tearoom. Apparently, she’s fed up with everybody else having all the fun.’
‘What fun?’ Isla was unaware of copious amounts of fun being had in Bibury.
‘Oh, my folks are big on cruising, and they’re always on about what a great time they had on the last one they did and now the Robsons from the garage are into it too. Aunty Noeline’s decided she wants to see a buffet for herself and sip cocktails while the sun sets. She said the Kea is becoming a noose around her neck. I can’t say I blame her for wanting to sell up and set sail; she is nearly seventy.’
‘But what about you? You are related after all. What’re you supposed to do if she sells?’
‘She was sorry about the timing, but she said that she’s hopeful whoever buys the place will keep me on. She asked me if I was interested in buying it.’
‘And are you?’
‘No. As I said to you earlier I don’t want to make that kind of commitment. Hopefully, it will take a while to sell, but I think Aunty Noeline just wants to be rid so she’ll take what she can get.’
‘Oh, what a bummer, Annie.’
‘I know, but them’s the breaks I guess. Come on, let’s go cream our Black Forest cake. The sooner it’s finished, the sooner I can have a bloody great big piece of it.’
‘Comfort eating, good plan.’
Isla beat the cream while Annie spread frosting on the layers. They worked in silence. Annie wasn’t in the mood to chat, and Isla’s brain was buzzing. Annie had just begun piping the thickened cream onto the top of the cake when Isla whipped off her apron. She paused with the piping bag in mid-air, a blob of cream dangling from the nozzle.
‘What’s up?’ Annie asked, startled.
Isla knew she looked a little manic, and she probably was, but there was someplace she needed to be. ‘I can’t explain it just yet but promise me you’ll save me a piece of cake. I’m hoping we’re going to have something to celebrate. I’ll be back soon.’
Annie watched with open-mouthed bewilderment as Isla called out before haring out of the tearoom, ‘Wish me luck!’
Isla raced across the road towards home, hoping that her gran was out as she didn’t want to talk to anyone, not yet. She didn’t want to give anyone the chance to tell her what she was about to do was a mad idea. She wanted to throw caution to the wind. Her luck was in, and
within minutes she’d retrieved Delilah’s keys and was reversing down the driveway. So intent was she on her mission that she didn’t see Ben watching her from over the road at the garage with a perplexed expression on his face.
As she drove, she weighed up the pros and cons of what she was planning. Was it mad? Probably, she had no experience after all, but then that was what was so appealing. Right Isla, if my memory serves me properly, this is it. She pulled over to the side of the road not bothering to lock Delilah as she strode up to the front door of a tidy, cream Summerhill stone house. She rapped on the bevelled glass pane of the door a little more forcibly than she’d intended, but it had the desired effect as she spied a shadow moving towards it. The door swung open, and the woman standing there in her emerald green pantsuit looked taken aback at seeing her on her doorstep.
‘Isla? Twice in one day, goodness dear is everything alright?’
‘Everything’s great Noeline, or at least it will be if you let me buy the Kea from you.’
‘You’ve done what?’
‘I’ve bought the Kea, well almost, I need to get a valuation done because that’s what Noeline and I have agreed I’ll pay, market value. We shook on it. You’ve got cream on your nose by the way.’
Annie wiped at her nose impatiently. ‘I don’t know what to say. I’m blown away.’
‘So am I to be honest. It was all very spur of the moment, but it feels right.’ Isla shrugged. ‘Bloody terrifying but right all the same. I want something new to sink my teeth into, and I’m not ready to buy a house just yet, but I do want to make a commitment.’
‘Well, I think it is fanbloodytastic!’
Isla beamed. ‘You’ll carry on managing the day to day running of the place with me, won’t you?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘We can work through new menu ideas together. I was thinking about my dad’s garden. He always has so much extra produce that maybe we could buy our veggies from him and use seasonal produce. And I’ll have to sort out the renovation.’ She looked panicked. ‘There’s so much to think about.’
‘Oh, Isla it all sounds brilliant.’ Annie squealed and clapped her hands. ‘It’s so exciting!’ This time it was Annie who whipped her apron off. ‘Wait here; I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
As she headed to the door, Isla called after her, ‘Don’t tell anyone, Annie, not yet. Not until it’s a done deal.’ She’d sworn Noeline to secrecy too.
Isla took the opportunity of being alone in the café to wander around looking at the dated, characterless furnishings and she felt a frisson of excitement. It was going to be hers, her very own project to put her stamp on.
‘Let’s have a toast.’ Annie burst back through the door waving a bottle of fizzy grape juice. ‘It was all I could find with bubbles – to Isla Brookes, the soon to be new owner of Bibury’s Kea Tearooms.’
‘Ooh, say it again!’ Isla grinned as Annie popped the cork and poured them each a mug of the sweet fizz.
Chapter 19
‘Mum!’ Isla called pushing open the front door. ‘We’re here.’
‘Come in, come in, I’m in the kitchen beating the egg whites for my lemon meringue pie.’
Bridget and Isla wandered down the hall through to the living area where the open plan layout gave way to the kitchen. The air was warm with the smell of roast chicken clinging heavily to it, and the windows shut to keep the pesky flies at bay. Isla spied the foil covered roasting tin sitting on the bench with the chicken resting beneath it. Next to it was a bubbling pot of veggies on the stovetop. Mary looked up from the breakfast bar where she was giving the hand beater a work out.
‘Hi Mum, Isla love. You two are the first to arrive. Joe’s in the garage tinkering on that bike of his.’
Isla kissed her mum, leaving a glossy mark on her cheek. She peered over her shoulder at the open copy of the Edmonds Cookery Book, calling out, ‘She’s on page two hundred and eleven, Gran.’
It made Bridget smile.
Mary batted her daughter away with her free hand. ‘Go and make yourself useful. Pour some drinks. There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge, or juice, whatever you fancy. Oh, I’ve lost my place now.’ She traced her finger along the recipe peering over the top of her reading glasses. ‘Okay, so I’m done beating next I spoon my meringue topping over the lemon filling.’
Bridget shook her head at her daughter’s culinary skills. ‘I’ll just have a juice please, Isla.’ Then she remembered her daughter-in-law, bossy boots Ruth would be arriving shortly. ‘Actually, on second thoughts I’ll have a wine, thank you.’
‘Oh good, I’m not drinking alone then,’ Mary said picking up her glass and raising it as she saw Isla open the fridge and reach for the orange juice. ‘Bit early in the day for me under normal circumstances but I needed some Dutch courage for dealing with Ruth. Cheers,’ she said taking a sip.
‘Oh, she’s not that bad Mum.’
‘Yes, she is,’ Mary and Bridget chimed, grinning at each other and presenting a united mother-daughter front.
Isla’s hand shook slightly as she poured her gran’s wine. Over lunch, she planned on announcing her news. It’d been so hard not breathing a word of what she was up to and she’d sworn Annie and Noeline to secrecy too, but now that the contract had been signed the tearoom’s purchase was a done deal. The thing was she hadn’t wanted advice, and she knew that if it had become public knowledge that she was buying the tearoom, she would have received plenty. It wasn’t that she was pig-headed, well, maybe just a little, but this was something that felt so right. She didn’t want anybody trying to talk her out of it or being negative – not when, for the first time in a very long while, she was feeling so positive.
‘What time are you expecting them?’ Bridget asked, sitting down at the table that was already laid for lunch. Good grief, you’d need your sunglasses on with all the shiny topped surfaces in this room, she thought. Isla was behaving peculiarly too. The tremble in her hand as she poured the drinks didn’t escape Bridget’s eagle eye. She’d been like a cat on a hot tin roof these past couple of weeks. Too much energy, in her opinion, and it was high time she began to show some signs of finding employment. It was all well and good helping Annie over at the Kea but Noeline, Bridget knew, was as tight as a cat’s arse and would not be dipping into her purse to pay her granddaughter as well as Annie.
‘They shouldn’t be too far away,’ Mary replied.
‘Mum.’ Isla looked at her mother’s glowing face. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you, why is your skin lending itself towards a shade of orange these days?’
Bridget snickered.
‘It’s not orange, it’s a sun-kissed natural glow. You’ve just lived with all those pasty-faced Brits for far too long. It’s all the go now, self-tanners and bronzers. Foundation’s a thing of the past.’ Mary was not in the least bit offended as she popped her pie in the oven. ‘Ten minutes, girls and we’ll have a dessert fit for a king.’
Bridget was glad she was feeling so confident because, having sampled many of Mary’s desserts over the years, she wasn’t so sure.
Isla perched on a stool at the breakfast bar with her OJ in front of her trying to quell her nerves as her mum chatted. Her ears pricked up hearing Ben’s name mentioned.
‘Actually, speaking of dessert, Ben’s lady friend came in to collect a prescription the other day and I couldn’t stop thinking about cheesecake after I saw her name on it, Saralee. I had to go to the Kea to see what was on offer and there wasn’t any cheesecake but there was the most delicious Black Forest cake in the cabinet. I have to say the food’s gone up a notch there since your friend Annie’s been on board, Isla.’
The sound of car doors slamming in the driveway outside saved Isla from having to comment.
Ruth finished air kissing Mary’s cheeks and exclaimed, ‘Jack’s outside talking to Joe. Gosh you’re looking well Mary. Don’t tell me you and Joe snuck off to Fiji or Raro for a wee holiday and didn’t tell us? You didn’t get that glowing tan here o
n the Coast that’s for sure.’
Isla snorted, and Mary shot her a warning glance but Ruth had already moved on, her arms outstretched towards her niece.
‘Isla, sweetie-pie is it you?’
‘Yep, it’s me, Aunty Ruth.’ She was enveloped in a cloud of floral top notes as she was squashed into her aunt’s ample bosom. ‘How’s Theresa and Tom?’ she whispered into her aunt’s chest, feeling strangled.
‘Oh, they’re both doing ever so well.’
Isla felt her inhale, a sure sign she was about to launch into a lengthy update, when she spotted her mother-in-law.
‘Bridget, how are you dear?’ Ruth enunciated loudly and clearly having released Isla who was gasping for air. ‘Why don’t you sit in one of the comfy chairs over by the window, dear?’
Bridget opened her mouth about to tell her daughter-in-law that she was neither deaf nor decrepit and to stop calling her dear, thank you very much, when a hollering from outside interrupted her.
‘Isla! I’ve told you not to park that red hair dryer in the drive way!’
‘My Mini Cooper, Delilah, ruins Dad’s image apparently,’ Isla muttered in Ruth’s direction as she headed over to the window. Her father, his face hidden beneath his Stetson was stalking around her car in his cowboy boots, while her Uncle Jack looked on with amusement. She opened the window and leaned out. ‘If I have to put up with a dad who thinks he’s flipping Clint Eastwood then you can put up with a daughter who drives a Mini.’ She shut the window before he had a chance to reply.
‘Bridget, dear would you like me to cut you another piece of Mary’s lovely lemon meringue pie? Top up anyone?’ Ruth asked. She was getting a definite glow on, Isla thought, noticing her refill her glass yet again.
Bridget chewed her bottom lip. What she really felt like doing was flicking a piece of the pie across the table at her daughter in law, but she wouldn’t. No, she’d content herself with a rude finger sign in her direction under the table. They’d all just suffered through Ruth’s monologue of how wonderfully Theresa and Thomas were doing, and how they were setting the world alight in their respective jobs.
Sweet Home Summer Page 15
