A sudden gust of wind brought goosebumps to her skin, so she pulled her coat together over her chest. She’d dressed simply in a grey long-sleeved top, black skinny jeans and knee-high suede black boots. She’d wound her long blue and pink hair up into a bun that she’d pinned high on her head and her makeup was minimal – tinted moisturizer, mascara and a pale pink lip gloss. Having thought long and hard about Dane and where their relationship was headed, the last thing Honey wanted to do was to seem as if she was making a huge effort to attract him when he could well see her as just a friend.
Honey soon reached The Red Fox and went through the side door. The delicious aroma of cooked dinner made her mouth water. She scanned the bar and smiled at a few locals before spotting Dane at a corner table. He waved her over, so she pointed at the bar, but he held up a bottle of wine.
“Hi Honey, I hope this is okay? I know you like white wine, so I thought seeing as how we’re having lunch, we could share a bottle. Probably shouldn’t, you know, as I still have marking to do but I can get back to that later.”
“That’s lovely, thanks.” Honey removed her coat then sat down and Dane poured two glasses of wine.
“How has your morning been?” Dane asked as he smiled at her.
Honey looked at him, taking in how broad his shoulders were in a fitted black t-shirt and how slim his waist was in his low-slung indigo jeans. His bright blue eyes gazed back at her, framed with thick dark lashes, and his black hair was short but stylishly messy, as if he’d just got out of bed. Even the scar on his full upper lip – from a collision with another rugby player’s knee – and the widened bridge of his nose, from where he’d broken it in another rugby game, added to his allure. As much as she wanted to deny it, Honey found Dane incredibly attractive and the fantasy of wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his beautiful mouth played through her mind as it always did whenever she was near him.
“Honey?” A quizzical expression passed over Dane’s face. “I asked how your morning was.”
“Oh! Uh… very relaxing, thanks.” She lifted her wine and took a sip, keen to hide her embarrassment at being caught out staring at him, while thinking about what she’d like to do to him if she ever had the chance. “I fed the girls, did some yoga, had a nice warm shower… you know…” Why had she told him about her shower? “And I read some of my book.”
“Sounds good to me. I went for a run then tried to settle to marking again but I must be a bit tired today because I struggled to focus.”
“Well you have been working really hard, Dane.” Honey thought of the numerous times he’d told her he had marking and planning to do and she’d wondered if he did, or if it was just an excuse not to see her. But then teachers did work hard and he probably did have a heavy workload.
“I know.” He nodded. “It’s just that with this being a supply post, I feel… that I have to make a good impression.”
“I’m sure you have done. Dawn said that you’ve got a fabulous reputation at the school already.”
“That’s good to hear but it doesn’t make the position permanent, does it?”
“I guess not.”
Dane was currently covering at the local primary school for a teacher who’d been on long-term sick leave. He was renting a cottage in the village and had told Honey that he wanted to move to Heatherlea permanently, but it depended on the work situation.
“I wanted to tell you actually, that I found out on Friday that Mr Brown, the teacher I’m covering for, isn’t coming back, so I want the school to know I’m good enough to employ permanently. Not that I want to steal anyone’s job, but… well… they’re advertising the post externally.”
“That’s brilliant news… for you, not for him.”
“Initially, the head teacher told me there would be supply work until the end of the summer term but now there will be a full-time and permanent position. She said there will be a very short turn around, as they want to know they have a teacher in the post for the summer term, and they were just waiting on finalising some figures before advertising it.”
“When are the interviews?”
“Next week.”
“Wow! That is fast.”
“I’m going to apply for it but, of course, I have to face that fact that I might not get it.”
Honey’s stomach lurched. “I’m sure you will.”
“There’s no guarantee, is there?”
“I guess not but you deserve it. But… if the worst happened, then you could always commute to another job.” She scanned his face, hoping that her words wouldn’t hurt him. She wanted him to get the job and believed he should, but it depended on other factors that they had no control over.
“I could.” Dane sipped his wine. “But the main reason I rented instead of buying was because the position was temporary, and – aside from the fact that I might not have got a mortgage as a supply teacher – I didn’t want to put down roots until I knew how things were looking.”
“Well you have to do what’s right for you.”
Dane gazed at her and she felt a flush rising up her chest into her neck.
“Is that how you feel then, Honey?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well… oh it doesn’t matter. Let’s just have a good meal and some wine and enjoy the afternoon. We could even go for a long walk afterwards and blow the cobwebs off.”
“Sounds good to me.”
But as she perused the Sunday lunch menu, she wondered what he was going to say. He’d asked how she felt. Did he mean about him moving on if he didn’t get the job, or something else? Would he consider staying if she told him she wanted him to? And she did want him to, but she just couldn’t get the words out, because if she was wrong about his feelings for her, she could make an enormous fool of herself and then their friendship would be ruined.
So she swallowed her doubts and her questions and her desire for the man sitting opposite her, and focused instead on making light conversation about films and books and good places to holiday. Safe subjects, as Camilla would describe them.
But deep down, her heart ached, her desire fluttered and her confusion grew. Honey knew that she’d have to decide what to do about Dane one way or the other, and soon, but for this afternoon, she would go with the flow.
Tomorrow would be another day; tomorrow could be when she plucked up the courage to make or break whatever it was that they had between them.
4
The following Tuesday, Honey opened the gate to The Cosy Cottage Café, and some of the tension that had settled in her shoulders since the weekend loosened. She loved the evenings she spent at the café with Allie, Camilla and Dawn. The three women were her closest friends in Heatherlea and the closest thing she had to a family.
The sky above the café garden glowed in shades of gold and orange. The air smelt fresh and new, delicately fragranced with spring flowers. In the borders surrounding the green lawn, daffodils, crocuses and tulips waved their colourful heads in the gentle breeze, a beautiful sea of yellow, white, red, purple and pink. The plants that climbed the front of the café were green and strong, and would soon be awash with colourful flowers, bringing a beautiful summer vibrancy to the old stone cottage.
Honey reached the café steps and admired the purple shutters that surrounded the windows, realising that they’d had a recent lick of paint, as had the white front door. Not only was the café a very pretty place, it was also warm and friendly, and the exterior conveyed this, from the garden to the warm glow that emanated from the windows.
A sound off to her right made Honey turn and she spotted Luna, one of Allie’s cats, stretching out on the path just behind the wooden specials board. Honey knew that the cats weren’t meant to be at the café since Allie had moved in with Chris, but she also knew that Luna, in particular, sneaked back some days to check on her old haunts.
Honey pushed open the door to the café and entered, immediately appreciating the warm interior, as well as savouring the delicious aroma
s of baking and coffee that always greeted her here.
“Honey!” Allie smiled from behind the counter. “We thought you’d never get here. Dawn is starving.”
Honey smiled in return. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened. I went out to put the chickens in the coop for the night and got distracted by a few weeds growing in one of my raised beds and when I next checked the clock, it was gone five and I still needed to shower.”
“Well you’re here now and didn’t make me wait any longer so I’ll forgive you,” Dawn said from the table near the log burner. “But I’m not sure about this little one.” She rubbed her swollen belly that stretched the navy and white striped material of her maternity dress.
“How’re you feeling?” Honey asked Dawn as she approached the table and took a seat next to Camilla.
“About to pop. Full yet ravenous. Uncomfortable. In need of a good night’s sleep yet I can’t sleep, because if I stay in one position for more than twenty minutes I get leg cramps. My boobs have already started leaking and don’t get me started on how many times I have to get up to pee.” Dawn shook her head.
“Did you have to ask her?” Camilla frowned at Honey then laughed. “My poor baby sister is SO ready to get this baby out.”
“It’s true.” Dawn nodded. “I can’t wait and then I’m keeping my legs crossed forever.”
“I’m not sure that’ll work, Dawn,” Allie said as she set a plate of fresh bread rolls down on the table along with a jug of dark red liquid.
“What’re we drinking?” Honey asked, wondering if Allie had made them cocktails to have instead of wine.
“This is cranberry juice for Dawn, but you can have some if you want.”
“I do like cranberry juice but I also like—”
“Wine?” Camilla asked.
“Yes.”
“Wine is on its way.” Allie gestured behind her at the kitchen.
“I cannot wait to have some wine,” Dawn said. “I also can’t wait to be able to see my feet, to paint my toenails and to do a lot of other things.”
“I am never going through that.” Camilla sniffed. “How you can do it three times I have no idea.”
“Well I didn’t exactly choose to go through it this time did I, Camilla?” Dawn filled a glass with cranberry juice.
“I know the pregnancy was an accident but you don’t regret it now, do you?” Honey asked.
“Not at all,” Dawn replied. “And one day, Camilla Dix, you might change your mind. Especially when you see the beautiful baby at the end of all this.”
Camilla shuddered dramatically and Dawn laughed.
“You wait, big sister!”
“Perhaps Tom doesn’t want babies.” Camilla leant forwards, resting her arms on the table.
“Have you asked him?”
“We’ve talked about children.” Camilla looked around the table at her friends. “Not as something we were planning but just… you know… discussed other people who have children and how they always seem so tired, and about how we’re both lucky that we don’t have that drain on our energy and resources.”
“Give them a year.” Allie held up a finger. “And we’ll see what they’re saying then.”
Camilla sighed. “I doubt it very much. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… not everyone wants to be a mother. Besides, Dawn’s done enough procreating for both of us.”
“Honey, could you give me a hand bringing the food through?” Allie asked.
“Of course.”
Honey followed Allie into the kitchen.
“Thought we better give the Dix sisters a chance to get that subject out of their systems. I’m not sure that Camilla will change her mind about children; she’s always been so set against it.”
“But then she was set against relationships until Tom came along.” Honey picked up a serving plate of miniature roasted vegetable quiches that sat on a bed of dark green spinach.
“True.”
“Not that everyone has to have children, of course,” Honey added, thinking not just of Camilla but also of herself. “It doesn’t happen for everyone.”
“It certainly doesn’t and as long as she and Tom are happy then that’s all that matters.”
“And they have HP.”
“That they do.” Allie giggled. “And he’s a handful all right.”
“Speaking of animals, I think I saw Luna outside.”
“Darn her!” Allie tutted. “She keeps coming back, but then she wanders the village all the time. She always finds her way home but I do worry sometimes that she might go too far, or be picked up by someone.”
“All the villagers know she’s yours.”
“They do but Luna does keep pestering poor Mrs Burnley. I think that she encourages Luna by feeding her to be honest, but when Luna takes her a gift… she comes in here to complain.”
“Is Luna still taking mice to Mrs Burnley then?”
“Not just mice, Honey, but anything she can get her jaws around. She took her poor old dead Wallace, and since then she’s taken her a squashed frog, a squirrel and a pair of boxer shorts that she must have pulled off someone’s washing line.”
“Really? I mean, I knew about Wallace but not about the boxers!”
Dawn had been distraught the previous autumn when her children’s guinea pig had died then been stolen by Allie’s cat and left as a gift on Mrs Burnley’s doorstep. The elderly woman had thought it was a giant white rat and Dawn’s husband Rick had been forced to retrieve the guinea pig from Judith Burnley’s bin then bury it in their garden before their children found out.
“At least they were from Marks and Spencer.”
Honey snorted and they both burst into laughter.
“Come on let’s take all this through and feed the pregnant one.”
They carried the serving plates and a bottle of chilled Pinot Grigio through to the café and set them down on the table. As they tucked into the freshly prepared food, Honey enjoyed every mouthful of Allie’s wonderful spread, from the mini quiches with their crumbly melt-in-the-mouth pastry and herby roasted peppers, to the home-grown spinach and the crusty rolls spread with locally-made creamy butter. Allie had also provided a plate of skin-on potato wedges with a bowl of garlic mayonnaise and another bowl of coriander and lemon houmous.
“This is so good,” Dawn mumbled as she stuffed another wedge into her mouth. “So, so good. The heartburn will be worth it.”
“I did wonder about that as I was baking, but thought that if you’re anything like I was when I was pregnant with my two, then everything will give you heartburn at this late stage.”
“Oh it does!” Dawn nodded. “I’ll follow up with a pint of milk and I’ll be fine.”
The next hour passed in a flurry of chatter, clearing of plates and laugher, as the four friends enjoyed one another’s company and Honey’s heart brimmed with happiness that she had such good friends. Even though they didn’t see one another every day, because they were all busy, she knew that they were there for her just as she was for them.
“Right I need to pee!” Dawn announced as she wiped her hands on a white napkin. “Help me up, Honey.”
Honey stood then took Dawn’s hands and leaned backwards as her pregnant friend hoisted herself up. There was a loud pop then a gush of fluid covered Dawn’s shoes.
“Oh my god, Dawn! What was that?” Camilla grimaced.
Honey and Dawn looked down at the puddle on the floor then back at each other.
“I think you might have left it too long before going to the toilet,” Honey whispered, even though Camilla and Allie were right there with them and could hear every word.
“It’s not her bladder that’s emptied, Honey.” Allie stood up and pushed her chair back.
“It’s my waters…” Dawn’s eyes were wide as she gazed around the table in shock. “And… ouch!” She hunched over and grabbed the edge of the table. “I think the baby’s on its way.”
5
“What?” Camilla shr
ieked. “How can the baby be on its way? It’s too soon.”
Honey and Allie helped Dawn over to the leather sofa in the corner of the café and she sat down, cradling her bump.
“Not really, Camilla.” Dawn shook her head. “I’m thirty-eight weeks along.”
“Noooooo!” Camilla was shaking her head vigorously as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “It should be forty.”
“That’s not strictly true, Camilla.” Allie placed a hand on Camilla’s arm. “Anything from thirty-eight to forty weeks… sometimes up to forty-two weeks, is considered acceptable.”
“Nope.” Camilla had paled and her green eyes seemed huge in her pretty face.
“What do you mean, nope?” Dawn scowled at her sister from the sofa where Honey was holding her hand. “You don’t have power over this, Camilla. Your niece is on the way… Ouch!”
Dawn started to pant and Camilla stumbled forwards but Allie caught her.
“It’s all right, Camilla. Dawn will be fine but we do need to call Rick and probably an ambulance.”
“No time!” Dawn squeezed Honey’s hand as she panted. Honey bit down on her own lip to prevent herself from crying out as her knuckles were squashed together. “But call Rick… and tell him to hurry.”
Allie helped Camilla to sit down opposite Dawn, then ran to the counter and grabbed her mobile from behind the till. Honey heard her mutter into the mobile, clearly telling Rick to get there immediately.
“Oh… oh…” Dawn panted and squeezed Honey’s hand tighter. “I’d forgotten how much this hurts. The stinging! The awful stinging…”
“Are you sure the baby is coming now?” Honey tried to keep her voice calm, but the pain in her hand and the fluid that ran down Dawn’s legs every time her belly tightened to a point under her fitted dress, were all making her own panic rise.
“Have a look!” Dawn said as she spread her legs and pulled her skirt up to her thighs.
A Year at The Cosy Cottage Café: A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, loss, friendship and second chances Page 35
