The Seafront Tea Rooms

by Vanessa Greene

  ‘Were you staying with friends, before that?’

  ‘I thought they were friends,’ Guillaume said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. ‘But they weren’t, not real friends. Acquaintances that disappeared when I needed them.’

  ‘We thought about you all the time,’ Séraphine said. ‘Mum and Dad never gave up hope that you’d get in touch.’

  ‘I should have,’ he said. ‘But I couldn’t face dealing with what was happening. I couldn’t lie to them.’

  ‘Have you told them what happened to you?’

  ‘Some of it. They were OK, you know. They took it better than I thought they would.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘You’ve got something you need to tell them too, don’t you?’ he said.

  Séraphine felt the wind go out of her. ‘What do you mean?’

  He couldn’t know. She and Carla had always been so careful.

  ‘That you’re in love. And that it’s not with whatever farmer’s boy they’d pictured you marrying.’

  ‘How did you find out?’ Séraphine said, her chest tight with anxiety.

  He smiled, kindly. ‘I’ve always suspected you wouldn’t follow Mum and Dad’s plan – but wasn’t sure. Until now, that is.’

  She waited for something – him to reject her, disgusted. Or to laugh at her for thinking she was in love. One of the many things she’d prepared herself for.

  ‘She must be someone special,’ Guillaume said. ‘You seem much happier these days.’

  ‘She is.’ Séraphine felt relief flooding through her. ‘And yes, I am happier.’

  ‘They’ll cope, you know. Mum and Dad,’ he reassured her. ‘It might take time, but they love you. They’ll have to get used to it.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Yes. You should tell them.’

  Guillaume’s laidback acceptance and understanding lifted a weight from Séraphine’s shoulders. He loved and cared about her for who she was – not who she loved. Perhaps he was right, and her parents would do the same.

  54

  Tuesday 4 November

  Kat held Leo’s hand and they approached the doors of the nursery. She smiled at the other mums with their pushchairs, and took Leo’s scooter from him.

  ‘You be good today,’ Kat said, bending down to kiss Leo goodbye. ‘Have fun. Grandpa is going to collect you this afternoon.’

  ‘Bye, Mummy,’ he said. She ruffled his hair and he sped off through the doors, his trainers flashing tiny red lights.

  At the bus stop, she rooted through her bag for something to read while she waited for the bus to the call centre. Inside was a copy of Indulge – the one that Charlie had given her to pass on to Letty. She opened it – flicking past the photos of the places she, Charlie and Séraphine had visited together.

  She came to Charlie’s piece, the secret history – she’d been waiting for a quiet moment to read it. She read it, picturing Letty.

  … the tea rooms came to their current owner when she had a young son, and with her husband working abroad, it was down to her to keep them going in financially challenging times. When the Seafront was broken into and vandalised, she had to repair the interior herself, and find furniture to replace the pieces that had been stolen…

  She pictured Letty finding chairs and tables, just as she’d had to do for her own flat when they’d run out of money. They’d both had their challenges in life, making decisions that seemed best at the time, and finding a way to be at peace with the consequences. Perhaps that was why Letty had always been able to understand how Kat was feeling, why she’d always instinctively known what kind of support Kat needed, been there for her whenever she’d needed it. Perhaps it was time for her to be there for Letty now.

  The day at the call centre had been long and tiring, but at least her second day in the job had been easier than the first. She’d begun to master the technique, there’d been fewer hang-ups when she called, and at the end of the day her boss had called her into his office to commend her on a good start. But everything about the office made her feel empty. After lunch she’d poured herself a cup of tea from the office machine, stale and flavourless with UHT milk, and made a resolution to stick it out and make whatever money she could there while searching for alternative employment.

  On her way home, she passed the Seafront. She thought of the way a warm teapot arriving at her table had turned around a bad day for her so many times. Letty would be in there now, Kat thought – doing the accounts or cleaning the tables.

  She thought again of what Séraphine had said. Letty didn’t have to be her mother.

  She knocked on the window, and Letty let her in.

  ‘Hi,’ Kat said. She felt a surge of mixed emotions. It was impossible to look at Letty’s face now without comparing her features with her own, searching for some clue in each feature or mannerism as to who she truly was, and why Letty had given her away.

  ‘It’s so good to see you,’ Letty said. ‘Come in.’

  ‘I brought you something.’ She passed Letty the magazine. ‘Charlie wanted you to see it. I’m afraid I forgot I had it until now.’

  Letty looked through it, and smiled. ‘So this is what you three were working away on. It turned out quite nicely, didn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Kat sat down. ‘I read the feature, about this place.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘It’s quite a story, isn’t it, how you and John set it up. There was a lot I didn’t know.’

  ‘Everyone has bad times, and better times,’ Letty said. ‘That’s life for you, isn’t it?’

  Their eyes met, and Kat felt a lump form in her throat.

  ‘I’ve got so many questions,’ Kat said.

  ‘Of course you do,’ Letty said, nodding. ‘And I’ll do my best to answer them.’

  ‘I don’t need to know about my father. Dad’s all I need in that department,’ Kat said, firmly. ‘But other things. A lot of other things.’

  Letty nodded earnestly.

  ‘The only thing is, I don’t think I’m ready for the answers yet,’ Kat said.

  ‘Then let’s just chat today, shall we?’

  Kat smiled and nodded.

  ‘We’ll have time for the rest. Plenty of time,’ Letty said.

  55

  Christmas Day

  ‘Séraphine, it’s Christmas!’ Benjamin said, bounding into her room and jumping on to her bed. Mathilde followed close behind. ‘You can’t sleep through it, it’s too exciting.’

  Séraphine pulled the duvet up over her head and groaned playfully. But even at six in the morning, she welcomed the intrusion. She’d missed the twins so much.

  She and her mother had spent the day before making the final preparations for the Christmas meal. When Guillaume had come home at the start of November, all Hélène had talked about was how wonderful it would be to have Christmas as a family. But then things had changed.

  For Séraphine the prospect of Christmas at home didn’t seem wonderful at all. The atmosphere in the kitchen had been tense and frosty, and she couldn’t help feeling her mother would have been more comfortable if she’d left her to cook alone, or, perhaps, disappeared altogether. Sometimes Séraphine was tempted to do just that, leave and be with Carla, rather than making do with secret meetings and brief moments on the phone.

  Things had been awkward in the house for a month, ever since Séraphine had told her mother and father about Carla. Hélène had been unable to accept what Séraphine said. She refused to hear the words, even going as far as covering her ears.

  Patrick had taken the news slightly better. He seemed at first not to quite understand, and had spent the day silently working in the frost-covered garden. He’d come back inside shortly before dinner and laid a hand calmly on Séraphine’s shoulder, kissing her head. No words had been necessary.

  But with her mother it had been a different matter. Since that day, she and Hélène had avoided talking, immersing themselves in entertaining the twins, or preparing food.
r />   Guillaume reassured Séraphine that Hélène would come round, that she just needed to get used to the idea. One evening Séraphine had even heard him trying to reason with his mother about it. She’d always imagined she’d be the one helping him settle back in at home – and yet instead he was the one trying to help her, in what seemed like an increasingly desperate cause.

  In Bristol, Flo passed Charlie a carefully wrapped present from under the tree – a package sparkling with silver paper and ribbon. Charlie and Pippa’s parents were in the kitchen making coffee and the room was relatively quiet for the first time that morning.

  ‘Thank you,’ Charlie said, reading Pippa’s handwriting on the tag and smiling over at her.

  She unwrapped the package and took out a charcoal-grey silk dress from her favourite shop. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

  ‘I wanted to get you something special. After all, if it wasn’t for you, we might not all be here today.’

  She cast a glance over at Luke, who was on the sofa with Jacob on his lap.

  ‘Pippa told me how much you helped when I was away,’ Luke said. ‘We’re both very grateful.’

  ‘There was a point when I thought I might not make it here,’ Charlie said. ‘That perhaps our last family Christmas had already happened.’

  ‘No way – there’s no separating you two,’ Luke said.

  ‘He’s right,’ Pippa said. ‘I think we’re all stuck with each other. And him —’ She tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen.

  ‘Are you talking about Grandpa?’ Flo said, looking up from the present she’d been opening.

  ‘No,’ Pippa said hurriedly. ‘Roger. I meant Roger the cat.’

  Flo narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘It didn’t sound like that.’

  ‘Why don’t we go and check on him?’ Luke said. ‘I think Roger and Venus are quite confused about being here in Grandpa and Grandma’s house. We don’t want them getting lost.’

  ‘Sure.’ Flo hopped to her feet, and Jacob tagged along behind.

  Pippa passed her sister a box of chocolate mints and unwrapped one for herself. ‘How’s everything going back in London?’ she asked.

  ‘OK,’ Charlie said. That about summed it up – she was managing. She had time for her early morning runs, and that cleared her mind for the day ahead. The editions of the magazine that she’d edited had sold well, and Louis seemed pleased with her progress. The hours were long but that was what she’d signed up for. ‘You know how much I wanted this promotion. I’m lucky to have the job.’ It was all true, just not the whole truth.

  ‘That’s good then.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Things are better, thanks. I’m thinking of doing some part-time study. I’ll wait till Gracie’s older, but there’s a law degree I’ve been looking into and Luke’s said he’ll support me if I want to do it.’

  ‘That’s terrific.’

  ‘I hope it’s going to be a happier new year,’ Pippa said.

  Charlie took hold of her sister’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I’m sure it will be.’

  When Christmas lunch was over, Charlie climbed the stairs to her childhood room, a cup of tea in her hand. Sitting on the bed, she texted Euan.

  Merry Christmas! We’ve had a brilliant day. Perhaps our best one yet. The kids loved their presents. It feels as if I’ve spent the day with someone else’s family, not mine! Even Dad’s behaving himself. How are things with you? Cx

  She sat down in her armchair and put her phone on the bedside table, waiting for his reply. She never had to wait that long.

  It was seeing him that was the problem. Weeks would pass when they were both too caught up in their work to make the journey in either direction. She missed him – the warm, safe feel of his arms around her in bed, the tenderness of his kiss. The way he made her laugh after a long day. The prospect of coming home to him, rather than her cold, empty flat, was something she yearned for constantly.

  Séraphine went into the kitchen and found her mother arranging potatoes on a roasting tray. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she wore a floral apron. Everything about the scene was familiar, apart from the blank look in Hélène’s eye when she saw her daughter enter the room.

  Séraphine couldn’t wait until she could get away and spend some time at Carla’s, talking through with her how hard it was to have her mother push her away. The moments she and Carla spent together – even when they had something so serious hanging over them – were precious. Snatches of time in which Séraphine had the space to be herself, and be with someone she loved more deeply with each day that passed.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mama,’ Séraphine said, quietly.

  Her mother’s eyes were shiny, wet with tears. Séraphine felt crushed at the thought she was causing her mother – who had always done everything she could for her – pain. Hélène shook her head, silent.

  ‘I wish this didn’t hurt you so much.’

  Her mother turned to her, her blue eyes wide, her vulnerability suddenly so visible. ‘You’re sure? Absolutely sure?’

  Séraphine nodded.

  ‘This isn’t a phase? There’s no chance you’ll change your mind?’

  ‘I’ve never been more certain about anything.’

  Hélène looked down.

  Séraphine bit the inside of her lip – knowing that she couldn’t ever undo what she’d said, and even if she could, the fact that it was true would always remain.

  ‘Well,’ Helen said, brushing her hands off on her apron. ‘I’d better start getting used to the idea, then.’

  She looked over at her daughter and the faintest of smiles appeared on her lips.

  ‘So, a pretty different sort of Christmas this year,’ Euan said, as he and Kat watched Leo playing with a friend on the South Sands on Boxing Day, dipping in and out of the waves in his wellington boots.

  ‘Yes. You didn’t mind us being there, did you?’

  ‘Of course not. It made the day. It was so much more special with Leo around. I’ve always wanted a nephew.’

  ‘And then you gained one overnight,’ Kat said, smiling.

  ‘He’s great, isn’t he?’ Euan said, as Leo waved a stick he’d found in the air.

  ‘You can babysit whenever you want. Honestly, don’t hold back.’ Kat grinned.

  ‘It seems real now, finally,’ Euan said. ‘How have you been finding it with Mum?’

  ‘We’re talking more. We’re getting there. It’s taken time, but I feel lucky.’

  ‘You’ve not done badly, with her. It could have been worse,’ Euan joked.

  ‘Hopefully she feels the same.’

  ‘She adores you, Kat. She always has. I think it hurt her a lot not to be able to be honest with you. But when Mum makes a promise to someone, she sticks to it. One of the best things about her – though, in this case, it’s the thing that’s made her most unhappy. Until now.’

  As Kat’s dad cleared the table of their feast of turkey and stuffing leftovers, Letty and Kat sat on the sofa, Leo playing with his new toy sharks by their feet.

  ‘I think I prefer turkey sandwiches to Christmas dinner,’ Letty said.

  ‘Probably because you’re not rushing round after us all like you were yesterday.’

  ‘It’s been a pleasure, having you all here,’ Letty said. ‘It means a lot – you know that, I hope.’

  Kat nodded.

  ‘I didn’t expect it. But yesterday was the happiest Christmas I’ve had in years,’ Letty said.

  ‘I’m glad,’ said Kat. ‘We really enjoyed it. Dad did too.’

  ‘Good.’ Letty picked up the Radio Times and opened it. ‘Now, let’s see what’s on this evening, shall we?’

  Kat put her hand on Letty’s. ‘Actually there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You know we talked about spending more time together? Well, I’ve managed to save some money over the past month, so for the first time in ages I have a little extra.’

  �
��That’s good,’ Letty said. ‘What were you thinking of?’

  ‘What about going abroad?’

  ‘That’s a lovely idea. Where?’

  ‘To stay with Séraphine. You remember that patisserie course near her she talked about? I know you’re as keen as I am to try that out.’

  Letty’s face brightened.

  ‘She’s right by a budget airport, and she said she could get us on to the course at a discounted rate. Dad’s offered to mind Leo.’

  ‘I could shut this place for a few days,’ Letty said, looking around.

  ‘I’m sure the customers won’t mind the tea rooms being shut for a little while if you let them know there’ll be an even better range of cakes when you get back.’ Kat smiled.

  ‘Exactly,’ Letty said, with a broad smile. ‘You’re on.’

  ‘That’ll be Adam,’ Euan said, when Letty’s doorbell rang.

  Adam. His face came back into Kat’s mind. She remembered how for one fleeting moment it had seemed as if everything was coming together for them – just before her life was turned upside-down by the news about Letty.

  ‘Hi, everyone,’ Adam said, stepping into the living room. His eyes met Kat’s and he smiled warmly. ‘Good Christmas?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kat said. His gaze rested on her, and her attraction to him flooded back. ‘How was yours?’

  ‘Great, thanks. My parents are staying with us, and Zoe’s grandparents have come over from France, so it’s been a full house. She’s had a brilliant Christmas – with a ridiculous amount of presents. Séraphine sent her a beautiful dress she’d made. Anyway, with all those live-in babysitters, I thought I should take advantage and go out for a drink for once.’

  ‘Do you want to join us, Kat?’ Adam said.

  Kat thought about it for a moment, but then shook her head. ‘I fancy a night in tonight, but thanks for the invite.’

  ‘Are you sure, love?’ her dad said. ‘Letty and me can mind Leo.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Another time maybe.’