‘She sounds fun. I wish I could have met her.’
‘Maman made us laugh a lot.’ Zoe’s voice caught.
‘Do you miss her?’
‘Elle me manque tellement. I miss her so much,’ Zoe said, brushing away the tears that were spilling on to her flushed cheeks. ‘I hate not having a mum. Being different from my friends. I hate that Dad is lonely sometimes.’
A lump formed in Séraphine’s throat as she listened. The hard expression on the young girl’s face had disappeared completely, replaced with a gentleness, a vulnerability.
‘But more than that,’ Zoe continued, her voice thick with emotion. ‘I miss her because of who she was. Her hugs. The songs she sang to me to get me to sleep. It’s been years, I know, but I miss her every single day.’
12
Sunday 14 September
‘Hi, Mummy,’ Leo said, his voice clear and bright over the phone. Kat’s heart lifted.
‘Hello, darling. How was your day?’ She perched on the edge of the sofa, holding the phone close to her ear.
‘Excellent,’ he pronounced.
‘Yes? What made it so excellent?’
‘I went with Grandma and Grandpa to feed the ducks.’
‘You did? And what were they up to?’
‘Quacking. Flapping their wings. They were hungry. I think it was feeding time.’
Kat heard a voice in the background: Diane, Leo’s grandmother was talking to him. ‘Nearly your feeding time,’ she said.
‘Are you having your tea?’
‘Yes, but I’m not eating bread like the ducks. I’m having fish fingers. That’s what penguins eat.’
‘Lovely. You eat those all up. Is Daddy there?’
‘Yes. I’ll get him.’
‘OK. Bye. I love you,’ said Kat, biting her lip and trying not to cry. ‘Sending a triceratops-sized hug.’
‘I’m sending a brontosaurus one. Love you too. Byeeee…’ His voice trailed off as he passed the phone to Jake.
‘Hi, Kat.’
‘Hey. Sounds as if he’s been having a wonderful time. Everything going OK?’
‘It’s fine. He’s having fun,’ he sounded distant.
‘How has work been?’
‘OK. Not bad. Listen, Kat. We’re about to have dinner. Can we chat tomorrow?’
‘Of course,’ Kat said. ‘Bye for now.’
Kat made a cup of Earl Grey, and brought the teacup and saucer over to the kitchen table. It had been good to hear Leo’s voice. He seemed so happy with his dad and grandparents.
And of course for her, it meant more time and space to think. She got out a pen and notebook, opened it on a blank page and began writing out her thoughts for the tea rooms reviews. She sipped her tea as she went, conjuring into her mind the tea rooms they’d visited – the décor, how the waiting staff had treated them, and – her favourite task of all – the delicious flavours they had tasted.
Kat hadn’t wanted to admit to Charlie that emailing wasn’t that easy when you didn’t have a computer to do it from. She’d had to sell her laptop in the summer – it was old anyway, and she’d promised herself she’d get a better one when she had the money. But she’d manage; she could write by hand then send half on her phone that evening and then go down to the library the next day and write up the rest. There was something she enjoyed about writing freehand anyway.
As the words flowed from her pen, Kat forgot about grocery shopping and paying bills, and even – for a short while – about being a mum. She was totally caught up in the moment. She remembered the last time she’d felt that way – staying up through the night to meet a deadline for her university dissertation, with only her dreams and a steady supply of biscuits to keep her going.
Perhaps work didn’t have to be just a matter of figures on a payslip. She’d once thought she could do something that tied in with her passions in life. Was it too late to hope that might still be true?
‘Jess, hi,’ Charlie said, moving over to the hotel window where the reception was better. ‘It’s Sunday again, sorry, I expect you’re at home – but you said to call and update you.’
‘Yep, fire away. And don’t worry, I’m in the office anyway, having an absolute nightmare with the October edition – somehow the printers got hold of the wrong file and we’ve had to pulp the first batch. Our MD’s not a happy man.’
‘Oh no – is Louis there with you?’
‘No, he’s left me to sort it out. Thank God you’re back tomorrow. So, how’s the tea stuff been going?’
‘It’s coming along nicely. I’ve found a wonderful new writer who’s been helping me out with some of the research, and we’ve discovered some real gems along the Yorkshire coast. We should be on track. I’ll be back in the office early afternoon.’
‘Not a moment too soon – I could use your help with getting this sorted. I left Nicky in charge while you were away, and the whole thing’s been a complete disaster.’
‘Oh dear. Well, don’t worry – we can fix it. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Charlie hung up the phone and laid her shoes on top of the rest of her clothes in her suitcase. Whatever the chaos in the office, it couldn’t be worse than dealing with her sister.
Séraphine popped downstairs to make some hot chocolate. She could hear Adam and Zoe in the living room together, laughing and joking.
‘Hey, Séraphine,’ Adam called out.
She put her head around the living-room door. ‘Hello, you two.’
‘Hi,’ Zoe said. ‘You got a package. Our neighbour just dropped it by. I left it for you on the hallway table.’
‘It’s a big one too – looks interesting,’ Adam added.
‘Oh? How exciting. I wasn’t expecting anything.’
She found the parcel in the hallway and examined it. The stamps, and the handwriting, were distinctively French, but the return address wasn’t legible. She took it upstairs to her room and closed the door.
Sitting down on her bed, she unwrapped it. Inside was a packet of homemade madeleines, and a CD from her favourite jazz singer.
The card was a black-and-white photo of a riverbank.
She read the message:
I hope you enjoy the madeleines, I made them myself – perfect with a cup of English tea. And – I’m sure you remember – ha – this CD was playing when we first kissed. I miss you.
Inside was a photo of the two of them: Séraphine and Carla, looking up at the camera as Carla held her phone out. Both smiling, Carla’s dark hair merging with Séraphine’s blonde.
Séraphine remembered the moment it was taken. The completeness that she’d felt that day.
‘I miss you too,’ she whispered.
Part Two
‘… even a tea party means apprehension, breakage’
Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf
13
Monday 15 September
Pippa was in her hallway in a white dressing gown, Gracie wailing in her arms. ‘Don’t just stand there on the doorstep, Charlie. Come in.’
Charlie stepped inside, wondering if she’d made a mistake in coming to say goodbye. She stuck her head round the living-room door and Flo and Jacob waved and yelled from the floor. It looked as though they’d been painting pictures, but the green and orange paint wasn’t only on their paper, it was all over the plush cream carpet.
Charlie turned back to her sister. ‘Have you seen what they’re doing to the —’
Pippa nodded. ‘I don’t care.’ Charlie noticed then that her cheeks were red and blotchy, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
Charlie closed the living-room door behind her and turned to face her sister. Pippa had lifted Gracie up on to her shoulder and was patting her back gently. The wailing quietened to a gentle grizzle. ‘What’s going on?’
Her sister mumbled ‘Nothing.’
‘Doesn’t look that way to me. Come on, sit down and let’s talk.’ They went into the kitchen, and Pippa placed Gracie in a bouncy chair.
/> ‘OK, tell me what’s happened,’ Charlie said, thrown by her sister’s dishevelled appearance. ‘You look —’
‘Don’t,’ Pippa said, shaking her head. ‘I look like crap, I know. And I feel even worse.’
‘Why, what is it?’
‘I haven’t slept in two days. I mean at all. Not a moment.’
‘That doesn’t sound good. Is Gracie OK? I realise babies aren’t known for being big sleepers, but that does seem extreme.’
Pippa looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and shiny with tears. ‘It’s not Gracie.’
Charlie paused, confused. ‘What then?’
‘It’s Luke. He’s moved out.’
‘What?’ Charlie sat back in her seat, trying to process what her sister was saying. Luke – loyal, kind Luke? It didn’t seem possible that he would walk out on his family. ‘Why?’
‘Because he’s married to me, and I’m an idiot,’ Pippa said, her voice cracking. She put her hands up to her face and covered her eyes. ‘And I know you won’t disagree with that.’
‘Come on, Pippa,’ Charlie said. ‘Don’t say that. Tell me what happened.’
‘I messed up.’
Flo burst into the room, a paintbrush in hand.
‘Auntie Charlie – you’re back! Are you coming to stay again?’
Charlie looked at Pippa, who had turned away, shielding her face with her hand and swiping the tears from her cheeks so that Flo wouldn’t see her crying.
‘Maybe,’ Charlie said. She wanted to hear the full story from Pippa, but it was impossible to ask her with the children present. ‘I’m here for today, at any rate. Your mum needs some rest, so I’ll be looking after you two. That means you’d better be on your best behaviour.’
‘Yay!’ Flo jumped up and clapped her hands together. Jacob rushed in to find out what all the fuss was about.
Charlie made a mental note to call Jess at the earliest opportunity; better to face up to postponing her return sooner rather than later.
She turned to Pippa. ‘You – upstairs. I’ll bring you a hot-water bottle and some camomile tea in a minute. Before we do anything else, you need to sleep.’
‘OK,’ Pippa said, too weak to protest. Pulling her dressing gown more tightly around her, she got to her feet.
‘There’s some expressed breast milk for Gracie…’ she murmured vaguely, her eyes glazed. ‘We’re nearly out of nappies. In fact, I think we are completely out… God. I’m normally so on top of this stuff.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Charlie said, calmly. ‘I’m sure we’ll be fine.’
Pippa walked out of the room, whispering a barely audible, ‘Thank you.’
Flo turned to her aunt, concern in her eyes. ‘Is my mum OK?’
‘Yes. She’s feeling sleepy, that’s all,’ Charlie told her. ‘Babies are exhausting, you see. We’re going to see she gets some rest today.’
On cue, Gracie let out a wail. Charlie bent to pick her up. The little body seemed awkward in Charlie’s arms, impossibly fragile. She tried to mimic the way that Pippa held Gracie, but felt as if the slightest wrong move could break her. Her crying escalated and Flo blocked her ears.
A couple of feet away, Jacob pressed a green crayon into the pale fabric of the dining chairs. ‘Colouring in,’ he announced proudly.
Flo took a sniff of air near Gracie’s bottom. ‘Phew-wy,’ she said, waving her little hand back and forth. ‘She’s done a poo.’
‘Kat, it’s Charlie.’ Sitting on the bathroom floor, Charlie leaned back against the bath and pressed the phone to her ear, relieved to hear Kat’s voice.
Her niece Gracie was on the changing mat, clean but nappyless, wrapped up in a makeshift fashion in a towel, gurgling contentedly.
‘Everything OK?’ Kat said. ‘I thought you were driving back to London today?’
‘I was. But now I’m not. Listen, could you help me with something?’ Charlie had searched through every cupboard in the bathroom and nursery, and there wasn’t a single nappy to be found. The towel was working out for now – more or less – but it wouldn’t do the job for much longer and she couldn’t bear to wake Pippa any more than she could face the thought of taking all three children to the shops to buy nappies. ‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t —’
‘AUNTIE CHARLIE!’ Jacob bellowed from the bedroom. ‘I’M HIDING, COME AND FIND ME.’
Flo put her head around the bathroom door, a worried expression on her face. ‘Jacob’s got the cat, Auntie Charlie. Mummy said he’s not allowed to hold her, not after last time.’
‘Last time?’ Charlie said, moving the phone away from her ear.
‘He HURTS her.’
‘OK, Flo. Go and tell him I’ll be right out – and he’ll be in big trouble if he touches Venus. Sorry, Kat,’ Charlie said, returning the phone to her ear.
‘Everything OK?’
‘Yes. I mean, no. Sort of.’ Charlie rubbed a hand over her brow. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Gracie had managed to squirm out of the towel construction. ‘Could you do me a huge favour and stop by my sister’s house in Victoria Road?’
‘Of course. Is there anything you need?’
‘Yes. Some newborn nappies. And a dose of sanity.’
Charlie opened the door to Kat fifteen minutes later, a wave of relief washing over her.
‘Nappies, m’lady,’ Kat said, holding out a shopping bag.
‘You’re a lifesaver,’ Charlie said, taking them gratefully, paying Kat and then scanning the outside of the packet. ‘They have instructions on them, right?’
‘Why don’t I get her changed for you?’ Kat said, kindly. ‘It looks as though you might have your hands full with those two.’
Charlie followed Kat’s line of vision to where Jacob and Flo were tugging the living-room curtains while jumping up and down like a pair of demented bell-ringers.
‘Stop that,’ she called out to the kids, while handing Gracie over to Kat and pointing at a changing bag in the corner of the living room. ‘Thanks, Kat.’
Kat expertly changed and dressed the baby, and a few seconds later was holding her and swaying gently, making her smile.
‘Any solutions for them?’ Charlie asked, pointing at Jacob and Flo.
‘Yes. Emergency measures.’ Kat located the TV remote and put on CBeebies. The children reluctantly let go of the curtains and settled on the sofa.
‘So how come you’re in charge?’ Kat asked.
‘You seriously think I am?’
While Jacob and Flo were engrossed in an episode of Peppa Pig, Charlie grabbed the opportunity to prepare some milk for Gracie.
‘I’ll get the kettle on,’ Kat said. ‘You look as though you could do with a pick me up.’
‘She said something about expressed breast milk,’ Charlie said, rummaging in the fridge and finding only vegetables, yoghurts and chickpea salad.
‘It might be in the freezer,’ Kat said, scanning the shelves and retrieving some bags full of creamy-white milk. ‘Bingo.’
‘Frozen? That’s weird.’
‘Means you always have some. Did your sister not tell you where it was?’
‘There wasn’t time. She hasn’t slept for a couple of days and looked as if she was about to pass out. I sent her upstairs to get some sleep.’
‘Must be tough with three of them.’
‘Yes, but it’s more than that. Her husband’s left.’
‘For good?’
‘No – I mean, I don’t know. I’m not sure what happened, I’ve barely had a chance to talk to Pippa about it.’
‘I hope she’s OK,’ Kat said. ‘You’ve decided to stay then?’
‘I think so.’ Charlie thought of the missed calls on her phone from Jess. She’d only had time to send a hasty email explaining she wouldn’t be returning as planned.
‘Let’s concentrate on getting through today. Between us we can see to it that the kids have so much fun they won’t realise anything’s amiss.’
14
Monday 15 September<
br />
Séraphine walked along the South Sands, the autumn sunshine glinting on the water and couples in thick coats strolling arm in arm. In her bag was the photo she’d received from Carla. She thought of the last time they’d seen each other, just before she’d made the decision to come to England, cutting short their relationship.
They’d been by the river, Séraphine sitting back on the picnic blanket and Carla smoking a cigarette, slowly blowing the smoke out of her mouth.
‘You shouldn’t smoke, you know,’ Séraphine said, turning on to her side.
Carla raised an eyebrow and smiled. ‘And you never do anything you shouldn’t, Miss Perfect?’
‘Not often, I suppose.’
‘Not often enough, more like,’ Carla teased her.
Séraphine laughed. They were the same age, twenty-three, but somehow Carla seemed older. Wiser. More comfortable in her skin. It was the first thing Séraphine had noticed about her when they were paired up on the patisserie course. While she had been consumed by worry that she would mess up the recipe, Carla was naturally confident, not seeming to notice or care what others thought. They’d worked well together, and the teacher had called the entire class over to taste their blueberry brioches.
‘Have you ever done anything your parents wouldn’t approve of?’ Carla said, playfully curious. ‘I mean, before you got together with me?’
‘No,’ Séraphine said, feeling a little embarrassed that she’d never stepped out of line. ‘Is that very boring? We’ve always got along well, so I’ve never wanted to upset them. I guess Guillaume did the rebelling for both of us.’
‘But this time it’s you going against their wishes?’
‘Yes. It’s not easy for me to keep such a big secret from them.’
The Seafront Tea Rooms Page 9
