An A to Z of Love

by Sophie Pembroke

  “You think she was planning something?” Charlie turned back to his desserts. At least he appeared to have been forgiven. Probably the best he could hope for. “I mean, beyond watching us all be miserable?”

  Mia laughed. “Actually, I rather think she thought it might be fun. But it’s like she’s... I don’t know. Trying to force us all to be best friends.”

  “Like that’s going to happen,” Charlie said with a snort. “But maybe you’re right. She wants to move home, be part of the community.”

  “Part of your life,” Mia said, her tone sad.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Charlie said, standing as close as he dared to where she sat.

  “I’m sorry I was interfering,” Mia replied. “You’re right. It’s none of my business who you sleep with.

  Charlie winced. “Mia... I was drunk.”

  “And that’s why you slept with her?” Mia said with a laugh. “Let me guess, it was like A to Z Jones–Death or Glory, right?”

  Charlie couldn’t help but laugh. “Something like that.”

  “Mmm.” Mia went back to swinging her legs. “Perhaps she just wanted me here so she could bait me about the festival. Trick me into revealing my secrets.”

  Charlie sprinkled berries around a cocktail glass, and wished he was frying something. “Are you worried about it?”

  “Shouldn’t I be?” Mia slipped off the counter and paced over to the sink, clutching her skirt in both hands.

  “No,” Charlie said. “You’re doing a great job.” He put the mini sieve he was using to sprinkle icing sugar down on the counter with more than necessary force, and was instantly caught in a shower of sugar.

  Mia laughed, high and bright. Charlie turned toward her and knew, in that moment, it didn’t matter if Becky stayed or not. He was in love with Mia Page.

  And one day, she was going to be ready for that.

  Mia was looking at the door, though, and Charlie turned in time to hear Becky say, “Tony and I were just wondering if there was a problem with the dessert?”

  Charlie blinked. “No problem,” he said, scooping up the first two dishes and motioning for Mia to do the same with the last two. “We’re just coming out.”

  “Is this lemon mousse?” Mia asked, peering at her dishes. “That’s my favorite.”

  “I know,” Charlie said, and Becky glared at him as she held the door open for them.

  “Okay.” Charlie laid out the puddings. “This is lemon mousse, with berries and cream and, you know, fiddly icing sugar bits.” He took the one he’d dumped a whole lot of sugar on for himself. After all, they may not be paying, but they were still customers.

  As he reached for a spoonful of the mousse, the restaurant door flew open despite the closed sign, and a tall, paunchy man in an ill-fitting suit strode in, causing Mia to drop her spoon and sink into her seat.

  Charlie stood, about to tell the stranger they were closed tonight, but the man stepped forward to shake his hand.

  “I’m George Page,” he said. “I’m looking for my daughter?”

  Chapter 12

  Mia was out the door before Charlie managed to stop her.

  “I don’t want to talk to him, Charlie.” She was shaking even in the mild night air. Not much. More of a vibration than an outright shudder. But enough for him to know she wasn’t up to a meeting with her long-lost father.

  “Okay.” He glanced inside the restaurant through the window. George Pace had taken Mia’s seat at the table and appeared to be helping himself to her pudding. “You go home. I’ll deal with him.”

  Mia looked up at him, her eyes wide and, he thought, scared. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezed tight, then let go and disappeared into the dark night.

  Charlie watched her go for a long moment, then headed back into StarFish.

  At the table, Becky and Tony were enthralled by whatever tale George was telling. Charlie held in a sigh. He was too tired for this.

  “Right,” he said, licking his fingers and pinching the candlewicks, dousing the flame. “It’s been a lovely evening, but...”

  “Time for us to go,” Tony finished smoothly, almost like it had been his idea. Becky looked less inclined to leave, but Tony took her arm and said, “Now, where did you put your coat?”

  Charlie slumped into his seat and waited for the restaurant door to shut behind them. Even then, Becky looked back with interest. Charlie stayed silent until she was out of sight.

  “She didn’t want to see me, then.” George reached for Mia’s wineglass.

  “Is this a surprise?”

  George shrugged, a good-humored smile on his face, like Mia was joking or indulging in a teenage sulk. “Not really. Didn’t she get my letters?”

  “She didn’t open them.” Charlie poured himself some more wine. On the plus side, he didn’t have to worry about ending up in bed with Becky again tonight. “How did you know she was here?”

  “Asked in the Fox,” George said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be in the Aberarian local. Charlie supposed it had been, once. But now it just meant everyone in town was going to know their erstwhile teacher had returned. Just what Mia needed.

  “Of course. Have you checked in somewhere for the night?”

  “I’ve only just arrived.” George looked ever so slightly shamefaced. Charlie was pleased to know he could manage the emotion. “I’d rather hoped I’d be staying with Mia at the house. But when I went past, it was boarded up.”

  “Mia moved out years ago.” Charlie didn’t mention where Mia had moved to. “After her mum moved away. It’s been through three owners since then.”

  “I’ve been gone a long time.” George looked up and caught Charlie’s eye in a firm, honest gaze. “I’ll be straight with you, son. I came back for Mia. But... Well. I came back now because of some other circumstances.”

  “Which are?”

  George shrugged and gave a sad half smile. “The usual. Girlfriend left me, took the little money we had. Got drunk and lost my job.”

  “And came here to ruin Mia’s life, too.”

  “No! That’s the last thing I want.”

  He sounded so sincere, Charlie found himself saying, “So you don’t have anywhere to stay, then.” He sighed at the hopeful look on George’s face. “Fine, you can have the sofa tonight. But you leave tomorrow.”

  George caught his arm as Charlie made to stand up. “I’m only here for Mia,” he said again, and there was an honesty on his face Charlie hadn’t expected. “It’s time for me to make things up to my little girl. I don’t want her to know about my troubles. I don’t want her charity. And I won’t be leaving tomorrow.”

  Charlie watched the older man’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “Then we’ll come up with a better idea tomorrow.” He wondered, idly, if George was any good at DIY. The cottage could use someone to keep an eye on it. But it was too late for that sort of thinking. “For now, I’m for bed.”

  George followed him up the stairs to his flat, and Charlie wondered how many other people he’d have staying there before he finally got to the only one he wanted.

  * * * *

  Mia arrived early for the next committee meeting, just in case, but when she got to StarFish neither George nor Charlie were anywhere to be seen. The restaurant was, however, packed to the rafters with breakfast patrons, which Mia thought was suspicious.

  “Charlie took him out first thing,” Magda murmured, passing her with a tray of croissants. “Didn’t think you’d want him here for the meeting.”

  “I’d rather not have him in town,” Mia muttered back, and made her way to the committee table only to discover that, early though she was, everyone else was already there.

  There were more of them now, which had seemed like a good thing until they were all sitting there staring at her, waiting to hear her say what they already knew. Mia wondered briefly how news had gotten around so fast, but decided it didn’t matter. Gossip always got aro
und in Aberarian. It was how she’d pulled together the committee, for a start.

  Leanora Evans, sitting at the other end of the table, was looking particularly smug.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Mia started, shuffling her notes into a neater stack. “Now, first things first.” The group leaned forward as one. “I think we need to discuss the closing ceremony for the festival.”

  “I think we need to discuss the fact that Jonny saw your father in the Crooked Fox last night,” April Havers said, never a believer in wasting time.

  Mia bit her tongue hard enough to hurt but not bleed, then said, “My father is not on this committee, so his presence or otherwise is not relevant to this meeting.” She’d spent half the night refining that statement.

  Not that it did much good. “It’s relevant to this town,” April said, and others around the table started nodding. Mia really wished Ditsy was there.

  “If he did steal from the museum safe...” Reverend Davies let his sentence trail off, but it was picked up quickly enough by Heather Jenkins.

  “That man owes this town a lot of money.” Heather gazed around the table, catching committee members’ eyes, one by one. “Enough to save the cinema, perhaps.”

  “There’s no evidence...” Mia started, but no one was listening.

  “I heard there might have been some new local discoveries in there,” Leanora said. “Probably worth a fortune.”

  April Havers nodded. “More than enough.”

  “He should be arrested,” Mrs. Hamilton put in, arms folded across her ample chest. “Someone should call the police.”

  Satisfied no one had any immediate plans to do just that, Mia banged her empty water glass against the table.

  “All right,” she said, once she had people’s attention. “Let me clarify. I have no intention of talking to my father. The rest of you can do what you please, including calling the police, Susan, once this meeting is over. In the meantime, can we please discuss the closing ceremony.”

  The entire restaurant was staring at her now, Mia realized. Well, she’d stated her position, firmly and clearly. No one could be in any doubt where her loyalties lay.

  “Right,” she said into the silence. “Now. Do we want a band or fireworks? I’m not sure we’re going to have the budget for both.”

  It took a moment, but eventually the committee clicked into gear. The diners returned to their croissants, and Mia sat back and listened to Enid Jones try and convince her to hire her nephew’s black metal band for a closing concert.

  * * * *

  “Now, the deal is, you don’t tell Mia about this,” Charlie said, pausing at the gatepost at the end of his cottage garden path to eye George seriously.

  “When would I have the chance?” George asked with a shrug.

  “At least not until I’ve spoken to her,” Charlie went on, ignoring the older man.

  George stepped past him onto the garden path. “I remember this cottage,” he said. “Mia and Becky used to play up here for hours.”

  It was weird, hearing their names together in the same sentence. “Together? Are you sure?”

  George looked surprised. “I think I know who my little girl’s best friend is. She was there last night, wasn’t she? I thought I recognized her. Nice to see they’re still friends after all these years. Having dinner together with their men.”

  Charlie wasn’t sure where to start with the inaccuracies in that statement, but he figured Mia deserved the right to set her father straight on a lot of things. If she ever decided to talk to him.

  So instead he said, “There’s a lot of work to do, as you can see. I’ve got a couple of builders helping me out, but to save money I want to do what I can myself.”

  “You mean you want me to do it,” George corrected.

  Charlie shrugged. “I need someone to keep an eye on the place. But since you’re here...” George gave a heavy sigh, so Charlie added, “And I can guarantee it’ll earn you points with Mia.”

  “She always did love this cottage.” George turned to him. “Okay, I’ll do it. Is there at least enough roof to keep me dry at night?”

  Charlie took pity on him. “It’s surprisingly structurally sound, in fact. The bedroom doesn’t even have too much damp. We’ll fetch a mattress up for you later.”

  “Somebody’s actually going to sleep in this dump?” The sound of Tony’s laughter behind him made Charlie’s shoulders tense.

  “That’s the idea,” he said.

  Tony came to stand beside him, puffing as he leaned against the rotting gatepost. Charlie supposed it was quite a climb up from the town, and Tony hadn’t been doing it every day for the last fortnight carrying a heavy toolkit.

  Seeing the cottage through Tony’s eyes, Charlie couldn’t help but see how much work there still was to do.

  “It’s not too bad,” George said. “Still some work to do...”

  “Hell yeah,” Tony said. “But I can see it’s got potential. It’s structurally sound, yes? So it’s mostly cosmetic?”

  “Mostly. New windows, new doors, some repairs to the roof, of course. And all the decorating we can handle.” George wasn’t looking any more enthusiastic at Charlie’s words.

  “Mmm.” Recovered from the climb, Tony started poking around the front of the house, George trailing behind. “Is it open?” he asked, trying the handle.

  “Not much point in locking it,” Charlie said as Tony discovered the hinges were unattached on the other side. Charlie waited for just a moment before jumping forward to help him hold up the door. “Let me shift it for you.” He moved it to the side, allowing them access to the inside. “New door’s held up in Calais for some ungodly reason to do with Magda’s cousin. Should be here on Tuesday.”

  The inside didn’t look much better, but Tony appeared to have an eye for potential. “This could be a really superb holiday let.” He smiled at Charlie, and Charlie couldn’t help but feel he was missing something here. “I could do a lot with this cottage,” he added, looking around with a speculative gleam in his eye.

  “I’m afraid that will be my job,” George said, reappearing from the bedroom.

  Tony looked faintly surprised, and Charlie decided Mia’s dad might have some redeeming qualities after all.

  He just hoped one of them was DIY.

  * * * *

  The A to Z shop was blissfully quiet after the ruckus of the committee meeting. Mia sat at the counter, swinging one leg as she stared out of the shop window at the empty streets outside. Beside her, Ditsy filled in random answers in her crossword, often with little actual reference to the clues, and pointedly said nothing at all.

  In fact, she hadn’t said a word since Mia finished her report of the morning’s meeting. She’d just made a hmm noise and turned back to her newspaper, pencil tucked between her lips like a cigarette.

  “I did the right thing, didn’t I, Dits?” Mia said when the silence became too oppressive. “I mean, the committee needed to know I’m on the side of the town, right? And I haven’t even spoken to my father since he arrived.”

  “Hmm,” Ditsy said again, which was singularly unhelpful.

  “I mean, what good would it have done me to defend him? Especially when I think he’s guilty, too.”

  “True,” Ditsy said. Progress.

  “And the committee needs to trust me. Or else we’ll never pull this thing off.”

  “They do.”

  “So you agree I did the right thing?” Mia asked, needing to hear the words.

  Ditsy put down her newspaper, took the pencil from her mouth and laid it across the black and white squares. “I think the only thing that matters is that you are happy with your actions.”

  “Well, I am,” Mia said, and nodded. “So that’s fine.”

  “As long as you are happy with never knowing why your father came back, then ignore him, denounce him, burn his letters. Whatever you feel you need to do.” Ditsy looked her straight in the eye. “But remember, this might be your last chanc
e to find out why he left. And your only chance to find out why he’s here.”

  Getting to her feet, Ditsy stretched her skinny arms above her head, then tightened the floral tie around her waist. “I’m going to put the kettle on. Cup of tea?”

  Mia nodded without really thinking about it. She supposed it all came down to if she really wanted to know. Because she’d managed this long. And she was finally finding her place in this town.

  Did it matter after so long?

  Mia’s gaze caught on Ditsy’s crossword puzzle, and she tugged the paper toward her for a distraction. As she’d suspected, the words Ditsy had included had nothing to do with the actual clues.

  Instead, her answers read Family, Love, Hope and Trust.

  * * * *

  The Grand Hotel really had been rather grand once. When Becky was much younger, coming for afternoon tea at Aberarian’s poshest hotel with Auntie Ditsy and Auntie Hannah was a real birthday treat. She’d order cucumber sandwiches and then ignore them in favor of the scones and clotted cream, the tiny perfectly decorated cakes and the half inch of champagne Ditsy used to let her have when she’d gotten older.

  Today, she had watery breakfast tea instead of a light Darjeeling or a robust Assam, and a round of cheese and pickle sandwiches. She wasn’t even going to touch the rock cakes. Becky sighed. This place needed a touch of class. It needed her.

  Tony dropped his tall frame into the chair opposite her, slightly out of breath, and Becky brought her faded china teacup to her lips to cover her surprise. “Would you like a rock cake?” she offered after a second.

  He nodded and helped himself. Becky felt a slight surge of pleasure at this small punishment. He’d disappeared before she was even awake this morning, off on some secret mission that didn’t concern her.

  “Need some vittles,” Tony said, trying the break the thing in half. “Had a busy morning.”

  “Yes?” Becky asked politely. “What have you been up to?” That didn’t sound too interested. Just polite and sociable. She didn’t care what he was up to, after all. He could keep his secrets. What did it matter to her, now she had Charlie again?