Chapter Five
The urge to shut down the café and go and find Mason was strong, but Summer knew she had to be rational. It wasn’t a kidnapping, there were no signs that the note had been written under duress – and Summer had watched enough episodes of CSI New York in her pre-boat days to know what that looked like. Mason had gone off to do something important; she just had to wait for him to come back. She showered and fed the dogs, spending longer than usual with them, trying to calm Archie who was still restless, letting out the occasional, high-pitched bark, which was unusual for him.
Early morning sunshine spilled through every window, setting off the gold and silver shimmer of her bunting, making a mockery of the Christmas tree lights. The frozen canal sparkled, the towpath glistened, and Summer felt suddenly, overwhelmingly, Christmassy. So they would be here a few days more than planned – that was fine. She’d told Mason she was going to embrace it, and that’s what she intended to do. She pushed the niggling worries about his unexpected disappearance to the back of her mind – he would explain what the fighting meant when she saw him.
The coffee machine hummed, the cold air that blasted through the hatch removed the last of her sleepiness, and Summer was about to put on some Christmas carols when she realized it wouldn’t be long before Water Music did that for her. She baked macarons and scones with chunks of cranberry, the delicious smells filling the café. She took vases out of a cupboard and put one on every table, a sprig of mistletoe, which she’d bought the previous evening with Claire, inside each one.
‘You open, love?’ someone called. ‘Only my hands are fit to fall off.’
Summer raced to the hatch to greet her customer. The man looked to be in his forties, the fluorescent orange of his jacket and trousers making her eyes smart. He had thick gloves on, a beanie hat pulled low over his forehead, but he was still stamping his feet, jiggling up and down, his warm clothing no match for the cold.
‘Why don’t you come in for a few moments and warm yourself up?’
‘Can’t leave me cart, love,’ he said, indicating behind him with a quick move of his head.
Summer peered round him, and saw the gritting cart on the towpath. ‘Nobody will steal it, surely. We can keep an eye on it.’
‘People nick anything that’s not tied down, even if they’ve no use for it. Coffee and a bacon sarnie would do me the world, though. I’ll do me little ice dance out here in the meantime.’ He grinned, and Summer laughed and went to check on the bacon she had sizzling on the hob.
‘How much do you have to grit?’ she asked, while the coffee machine spurted its way through making the Americano he’d asked for. ‘And do you have to cross over, do the other side of the towpath?’
He shook his head. ‘Nah, my patch is up for a couple of miles thataways,’ he pointed down the way they’d cruised in, ‘and then just into the Paddington Basin. Been busy last few days. Usually it’s litter picking, now it’s anti-slip.’
‘Pretty important on a towpath,’ Summer said, pouring milk into the top of his coffee. ‘Slipping over on the ice is bad enough, but when there’s a canal close by, it’s even more dangerous.’
‘Ain’t that the truth.’
‘What time do you have to start?’ Summer asked, thinking how cold and dark and generally unappealing it would be before dawn, having to get out of bed and walk the streets alone, shaking salt onto the towpath.
‘About four thirty,’ he said. ‘Any later and you’re missing the first commuters. Not that this place ever truly sleeps, mind. Just this morning I saw a bloke hot-footing it down thataways about five o’clock,’ he thumbed to his right, ‘paying no attention to the fact that I was coming towards him, and where he’d come from hadn’t been gritted yet. I called out for him to slow down, but he was excited about something, that much was clear. Told me he had to go after a woman, that he couldn’t wait, but I’m not sure what bird would be up and eager to see anyone that time of the morning.’
Summer felt a twinge in her stomach. ‘Sounds crazy,’ she said unconvincingly. ‘What did he look like, this man?’
‘Why? You missing one, love?’ His grin lasted only a second, then he became much more serious. When she looked closely, she saw that he had very blue eyes. ‘Oh, right. Well, y’know, he was fairly well rugged up, dark coat, boots – I remember seeing them because I was worried about him slipping, y’know, but his boots were sturdy. Had the stupidest hat on, though. I wondered if he had a screw loose, to be honest.’
‘Stupid hat?’ Summer asked weakly. If Mason had left early, in the dark, desperate to sort something out with Tania, then maybe he hadn’t had time to find his own hat.
‘Yeah,’ the man said, as Summer passed him the bag with his bacon sandwich in, and he nodded his thanks at her. ‘He was wearing a white hat with ears, kinda like some deranged polar bear.’
‘Calm down, Summer. Tell me everything, again, from the beginning.’ Claire blew the froth on her latte, creating a little hole in it. Summer stared at the drink, wondering how she’d got herself in this mess. If they’d only stayed in Willowbeck, if she hadn’t had grand ideas about coming to Little Venice, about showing Mason how life had been for her with Claire, Ryder and Jas.
‘I woke up and Mason was gone, and then I found this in the kitchen.’ She smoothed out the note on the counter, and Claire ran her finger over it, as if tracing his handwriting.
‘Right,’ she said, frowning. ‘And then this council guy said he’d seen someone leaving early, racing on the slippery path, and that he’d told him he was going after a woman?’
Summer nodded. ‘And it had to be Mason.’
‘Because of your polar bear hat?’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘It’s just like him, grabbing the first relevant thing he sees, and it would have been dark. If he didn’t want to wake me …’
‘You’re sure this guy said he’d said he was going after a woman?’
‘Yes. I’m sure.’
‘There’s clearly some mistake,’ Claire blustered, but Summer could see the tension in her shoulders. ‘Maybe he was going shopping, and said he was going after something for a woman; maybe there’s a thing he wants to get you for Christmas, and it’s going to be sold out, or—’
‘At five in the morning?’
‘Yeah, but Sum,’ Claire picked up a chocolate-log-flavoured macaron and popped it in her mouth, waited a few seconds until she could speak again, ‘if he was going after a woman – which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, by the way – why would he do that at five in the morning?’
‘Because Tania texted him, because he’s realized he still cares for her, because she wanted to speak to him last night and it’s all clicked back into place. I know she still likes him, she’s been dropping the least subtle hints ever since we met her. Oh God, Claire, what am I going to do?’ She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, and felt Claire gently clasp her wrists and pull them back out again.
‘We’re not going to jump to any conclusions, not until we’ve seen Mason and got the story from him. Did you guys have a fight last night? Did you tell him everything you told me outside the pub?’
‘No,’ Summer said. ‘I didn’t tell him everything. I told him about Mum, but not Tania, not – not anything about that. But we definitely didn’t have a fight.’ She wondered how she could even be considering that he’d gone to see Tania after the previous night, but right now nothing made sense.
‘Oh, Summer,’ Claire said. ‘You need to be honest with him. If you don’t tell him how insecure you’re feeling about Tania, he’ll—’
‘Rush off to see her at five in the morning?’
‘I can’t believe that’s what’s happened,’ Claire said, shaking her head. ‘I just can’t.’
‘What other woman is there?’ Summer asked, and then seriously considered the question herself. His parents were up in Northumberland, and he wasn’t that close to them, so it wasn’t likely to be his mum – unless something bad ha
d happened. For a few moments she considered the possibility that it was to do with Lisa: perhaps there was somewhere nearby that had been important to them both. It would make sense – his past had been stirred up by seeing Tania again – but she couldn’t imagine him rushing off so early. And what about what he’d said to the gritting man? What could the ‘fighting’ in his message mean? Unless there was someone else she was unaware of, all thoughts led back to Tania.
Claire too, it seemed, was stumped. She picked her phone up, pressed the screen then held it to her ear. ‘She’s not answering,’ she said after a while. ‘Not that that means anything. She’s friendly when she wants to be, and not so much when she doesn’t.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Summer said.
Claire put a cinnamon macaron in her mouth, her eyes not leaving Summer’s face. Latte and Archie were at her feet, the café was empty – it was still only half past eight – and Summer felt a sudden weariness, an aching in her bones, in her mind, as well as anger and frustration at herself.
‘You don’t really think Mason’s gone bed-hopping from you to Tania, do you?’ Claire asked. ‘I mean, Sum, the idea is ludicrous.’
Summer leaned her elbows on the counter. ‘I’m just so confused. Seeing her here, when for so long she’s been a spectre in Mason’s past, has been so strange. She was part of the reason Mason and I took so long to admit our feelings for each other. I was worried what kind of a man he was when he was prepared to treat her like that. Until I knew the truth, I felt sorry for her, because I was imagining how hard it would be, being close to Mason and then losing him suddenly. But I don’t believe that, however much she still wanted him, he would get back with her. Or if he did, if he decided that he loved her after all, I know he’d tell me first. He’s too honest to be a cheater.’
‘So if you think all that,’ Claire said, ‘if your feelings around Tania are pure discomfort, and you know Mason wouldn’t cheat on you, then what’s the problem?’
‘This is,’ Summer said, waving the note. ‘What is the fighting reference about? And the gritting man saying Mason told him that he was going after a woman? I don’t know what the answer is.’
‘If it was me, I’d be more concerned that he was prepared to go out in public in your polar bear hat. That certainly shows dedication to his cause, whatever that might be. Look, I’ll go and ask the others, see if anyone saw him or if he mentioned anything in the pub while we were shopping. You stay put – he’ll probably be back in an hour’s time with an explanation so straightforward you’ll be laughing before he’s finished giving it to you.’
‘Thanks, Claire.’ Her friend dropped to her knees and gave Archie, and then Latte, an enthusiastic hug. The dogs responded with their usual tail-wagging ecstasy, and then Claire strode out of the café and down the freshly gritted towpath, her phone clamped once more to her ear.
‘Where is he, Archie? Where’s he run off to?’
Archie looked up at her, panting slightly, and barked.
‘That’s not helpful,’ she said, ‘but I appreciate you trying.’
While the café was quiet, Summer called Valerie and then Harry, giving Valerie a glossed-over version of Little Venice that didn’t include Tania, or Mason’s vanishing act. She should have known, however, that she wasn’t going to get away with it.
‘Are you OK, Summer? Only you sound slightly strained. London’s not getting on top of you, is it?’
‘No Valerie, London is wonderful. It’s vibrant and buzzy. The river freezing was unexpected, of course, but I’m sure we’ll be able to leave in a couple of days. And in the meantime, business is definitely booming.’ She laughed, but could feel the weight of Valerie’s silence.
‘Take care of yourself, Summer,’ the older woman said. ‘I want you back safe and sound in Willowbeck. And don’t forget that things are quite often not what you think. When you see hooves, look for a horse, not a zebra.’
With that cryptic statement she rang off, and Summer was left staring at the phone.
To Harry, she told everything. She leaned on the counter, her voice a low whisper, Harry content to wait while Summer broke off to serve customers, though for early on a Saturday it was fairly quiet.
Harry was shocked that Tania was there, and that Summer hadn’t told her before now. She, like Claire, agreed there must be a straightforward explanation for Mason’s disappearance, though she couldn’t come up with an answer that entirely reassured Summer.
‘You can get anything in London, can’t you? He’s probably off sorting out your Christmas present, something unique. Fighting through the crowds, maybe?’ she said, trying to decipher the words. ‘Whatever it is, you have to tell me as soon as he turns up.’
‘What are you up to today?’ Summer asked, desperate to change the subject and stop the thoughts circling inside her head, if only for a few minutes.
‘I’m taking Tommy Christmas shopping, so he can get Greg’s present. And possibly mine – I’ll have to avert my eyes at that point.’
‘While giving him the money to pay for it?’
Harry laughed. ‘Yes, there’s that too. It’ll be fun. I don’t mind a bit of Christmas shopping chaos. I bet it’s epic in London.’
‘It is – Selfridges was nuts!’
Harry sighed longingly, and after a final reassurance from her friend, Summer thanked her and they ended the call.
In between customers, Summer made the tables shine until they gleamed. She was frustrated with herself for fearing the worst, and it wasn’t as if she and Mason were tied together. Of course he could go off on his own. It was just the words in the note, and the story from the man in his fluorescent work outfit that were niggling at her. When a young family came in, she put all her energy into making the two boys spectacular hot chocolates, with cream and marshmallows and crumbled macarons on top.
‘Oh wow,’ the mum said as she approached, ‘what do you think of those, boys?’
Their eyes lit up like diamonds, the younger one gasping until Summer feared he might explode.
‘I wish I’d gone for one of those now,’ their dad said, looking impressed.
‘There’s still time to change your mind,’ Summer said, grinning.
‘Oh I don’t think …’ He patted his stomach, then exchanged a glance with his wife. ‘Yeah, go on then. Two more of those please.’
His wife nodded her agreement. ‘We’ll need the energy for Winter Wonderland.’
‘Oh, is that where you’re off to? I went a few days ago, it’s fab.’
‘James is desperate to go on the ice rink, aren’t you?’
The boy nodded, his nose already covered in cream.
‘It’s magical,’ Summer said, ‘very festive. Very fast, too! I’ll go and make your new drinks, cancel the coffees.’
As the family put their coats on she wished them a great time, and had just finished clearing the detritus on their table, the splodges of melted cream and marshmallows, when Claire came back into the café, followed by dress-down Santa. She did a quick mental stocktake, relieved when she remembered she had a whole tub of freshly baked mince pies in the kitchen.
Santa stood patiently behind Claire, but she waved him forward. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Ten pies this time, please. I’m taking advantage of your semi-permanent status here. You off as soon as the canal gets its act together?’
‘We are,’ Summer said. ‘Though God knows when that’ll be. Everyone says a couple of days, but then it wasn’t ever expected to freeze in the first place, was it?’
‘Someone up there’s going for extra Christmassy! Can I get a gingerbread latte too? It’s so cold out there, I need the sugar.’
‘Coming right up.’ She turned to the coffee machine.
‘So,’ Claire started, not bothering to be discreet. ‘I asked everyone and nobody has a clue where Mason’s gone, no hints last night in the pub, and I went up to Tania’s boat, she’s not there, no sign of anyone.’ She huffed. ‘I mentioned the note, the fight
ing part, and what the gritter said. We’re all drawing a blank. Jas said he’d check things out online, do a search on social media around this area, but I don’t know if it’ll bring anything up. Still, it’s early; he’ll likely be back soon. Doesn’t he always have one of your bacon sarnies?’
‘He does,’ Summer said. She felt an irrational pang of sadness that he might miss it.
‘I like a good puzzle,’ Santa Claus said softly. ‘Is this your fella? The one who was flirted at by the woman in the sparkles?’
‘That’s him.’ Summer wondered why she wasn’t bothered by his nosiness. But she’d enjoyed his visits, his friendliness, and she realized she felt entirely comfortable talking to him about it. ‘He left before I woke up this morning, scribbled down something about fighting.’ She took the note that had, by now, collected a couple of coffee splatters, and handed it to him.
He stared at it, his white brows furrowing. ‘In my job,’ he said, ‘communication is very important.’
Summer imagined him collecting the lists of children and toys from his elves, wondering at the possible mix-ups when someone had asked for a Furby and got a Barbie instead. She shook the ridiculous thought away.
‘If you don’t communicate properly, then all manner of things can go wrong,’ he continued. ‘You don’t know what the fighting might mean, who he’s angry with?’ He peered at it closely over his half-moon glasses.
‘Mason doesn’t get angry with anyone,’ Summer said quietly.
‘And the guy Summer spoke to earlier,’ Claire interjected, ‘told her that the man he’d seen – which we know was Mason – had said he was off to see a woman, and that he was excited about it, or something.’ She leaned towards Santa conspiratorially, as if they were working on a case and he was the expert profiler.
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