A Year at The Cosy Cottage Café_A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, loss, friendship and second chances

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A Year at The Cosy Cottage Café_A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, loss, friendship and second chances Page 11

by Rachel Griffiths


  She shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.”

  “No more doubts or worries, my love. I’m here and I’m here to stay. Now help me get these out to the trestle tables because the children will be arriving soon and I still haven’t finished the drinks.”

  An hour later, Allie stood watching as Jordan and Max guided children – dressed as surfers, princesses, dragons, superheroes and insects – around the garden as they searched for clues as part of the treasure hunt. Her son and his boyfriend had set up a variety of games including bowling – which involved knocking down tins painted with monster faces – and a homemade dragon piñata, which the children would take turns to hit with sticks until the dragon surrendered its sweet treats.

  Chris had insisted on being the barman, which meant standing behind the trestle table in his pirate costume. Allie thought his costume of black trousers cut jagged at the knee, white t-shirt, stripy waistcoat, and red bandana perched above a long black wig with a black eyepatch – that he kept lifting up as he served soft drinks to the children and their parents – was fantastic. The most popular drink he’d created was his bloodthirsty pirate punch, a combination of cranberry juice, orange juice and cherryade.

  “Hello, Allie.” Camilla sauntered along the path, a grin on her pretty face. Just behind her were Dawn and Honey. “What a pretty little bee you are.”

  Allie accepted her friends’ hugs.

  “This all looks delightful.”

  “It’s been fabulous so far. The children seem to be having a great time.”

  “They certainly are burning off a lot of energy and should sleep well tonight,” Dawn added as she crossed her fingers and grinned.

  “Laura and James are attacking the piñata. Rick’s watching them so don’t worry.” Allie pointed at the tree where Rick was shouting encouragement at James, who was waving a stick at the papier-mâché dragon while his father looked on.

  “I was lucky enough to have an afternoon nap. Rick’s been making the effort to get home early a few nights a week, so I can rest before dinner.” Dawn yawned. “And although I wouldn’t have minded another hour, I feel a lot better.”

  “Yes but that’s partly psychological too, isn’t it?” Camilla asked her sister. “Now you know everything’s okay with the baby.”

  “The scan went well?” Allie asked.

  Dawn nodded then pulled a small card from her bag. She opened it and inside was a grainy image of a tiny baby.

  “Perfect,” Allie said. “I’m so happy for you. Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”

  “No. We thought we’d wait and enjoy the surprise. I’m just glad it’s only one and that it’s healthy.” She cupped her belly and her expression softened.

  “And how are you feeling now?” Honey asked Allie. “Everything seems to be going well with Chris.”

  Allie nodded. “It is, thank you. Very well.”

  They’d had to forgo their usual Tuesday evening get-together because of the party. This meant they hadn’t had their opportunity to talk yet this week, which was why Allie hadn’t seen Dawn’s most recent scan picture. However, she had kept them updated about how things with Chris were going. Slowly being the word she kept repeating, although deep down, her heart was refusing to listen to reason.

  When the grateful parents had taken the children home, and Jordan, Max and Chris had helped Allie to tidy up, she sat at one of the outdoor tables with a glass of red wine and sighed with contentment. Jordan and Max had taken themselves off to the pub, so she was left alone with Chris.

  “It’s a beautiful evening,” he said.

  “It is and I had a great time. I put on a goodbye-summer party last year, but it wasn’t as much fun.”

  “Allie, nothing was as much fun for me until I came back to Heatherlea. You are everything I ever wanted.”

  Allie sipped her wine, enjoying the spicy finish of the good quality Shiraz.

  “So where do we go from here?” she asked. “Not that I want to rush things. I mean, you haven’t been back long and—”

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.”

  “You have?”

  “Well now that the cottage has been emptied of my mother’s collection, for want of a better word, and had a fresh coat of paint, it’s looking pretty good there.”

  Allie nodded. She’d been round to see how the decorators were getting on and encouraged Chris to keep the kitchen exactly as it was, although she had suggested he put in an island to match the rest of the units. He’d done so with the help of a local carpenter and had proudly shown her just yesterday.

  “I was considering selling and buying something else local but I’d like to keep the cottage. It’s a good size and with some new furniture upstairs and in the lounge, I think it’ll make a great home to spend my twilight years.”

  Allie snorted. “You’re not in your twilight years.”

  “Not yet but always best to prepare.”

  “Always.”

  “There’s something missing though.” He sipped his wine thoughtfully and gazed upwards as if considering his wording.

  “There is?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “What is it?”

  “A cat flap.”

  “A cat flap? Why’d you want one of those you haven’t got any ca… oh.” Allie bit her lip.

  “Exactly.” He took her hands. “I want your cats to come and live with me.”

  She burst into laughter.

  “My cats?”

  He nodded.

  “And you can come along too if you like.”

  “Chris, that is not the most romantic way to ask me. Although I am glad you removed the eye patch first.”

  He shook his head then toyed with a few strands from his long black wig.

  “This is itching like mad.” He pulled it off and rubbed his head. “That’s better. I’m teasing about the cats. I just got all embarrassed for a moment there. It’s the author in me; I’m terrified of using clichés. Anyway…” He took a deep breath. “I have something for you.”

  He stood up and pulled something from his trouser pocket.

  “Open your hand.”

  “Why? What is it? Not one of those pirate hooks is it? Or a bottle of rum.”

  “It’s not.” He hadn’t laughed at her jokes and she realised his expression was serious, earnest.

  “Okay then.”

  She opened her hand and Chris placed something warm and solid onto her palm.

  She looked from the silver key to Chris, then back again.

  “Allie, I don’t feel I’m rushing anything because I’ve waited my whole life to be with you.”

  Her heart pounded and blood whooshed through her ears as emotion surged in her chest.

  “My home is your home, Allie. I don’t want to be without you any longer. I don’t want to spend another night away from you. Ever.”

  “Well we haven’t spent many nights apart this past fortnight.” Allie flushed as she thought about the times Chris had stayed over when they knew Jordan would be at Max’s. Even though Jordan knew about Chris now, she still felt a bit awkward when they were all together. It was as if part of her believed that she shouldn’t be dating anyone, let alone a man who’d known his father. But Jordan had insisted when she’d told him, then about thirty times more, that he was happy for her to see Chris, and always would be as long as she was happy. When she’d told Mandy on the phone, unable to get her daughter to commit to a trip home because of what she described as a very busy schedule – including a conference in Brighton for authors and agents – Mandy had gone quiet. Allie’s heart had stopped as she waited for her daughter to say something. And she had. Eventually. She’d told Allie that it was great news and asked if Chris was thinking of changing publisher any time soon, which had been her way of letting Allie know that everything was all right between them.

  “So let’s not spend any more apart then.”

  Allie turned the key over in her fingers, feeling its
weight. It wasn’t just a key; it was a symbol of the life she could embark upon now with the man she’d always loved. This was the start of something special. At her age, she’d thought all that was behind her, but here she was with a wonderful second chance. She was still young. Her children were happy, her parents were happy – and delighted that she’d started seeing Chris – and her friends were happy. Everything seemed to be going right for once.

  She held the key tight, feeling its reassuring weight.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Chris’s eyebrows rose.

  “Let’s do it. I guess Jordan will be happy to have the extra space above the café now that he has Max. They were talking about finding somewhere together just yesterday, so this will work out well for them too.”

  Chris pulled her to her feet then swung her round. “You won’t regret this, I promise. I’ll do everything I can, every day of my life, to make you happy. I love you, Allie Jones.”

  “And I love you too, Chris.”

  As he squeezed her tight, Allie peered over his shoulder at The Cosy Cottage Café and smiled. Her life had started over when she’d taken on the café. Chris had returned at a time when she was doing well, when she felt good about herself. And that was important. She’d proved something by setting up her own business; that she was a strong woman with a good head on her shoulders and a good heart. She’d created a small corner of the community where people could go when they needed a break, some sustenance or even just a friendly face.

  And now that Chris was here, life would just be even better.

  “I think we’d better go tell the cats,” Allie said as Chris released her.

  “Probably for the best. Wouldn’t want those wily sisters finding out from someone else now would we?”

  “And one more thing.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “When you said you wanted to get some new furniture, you meant old, right?”

  “Whatever you want is just perfect. Like you.”

  Allie held out her hand and Chris took it, then they entered The Cosy Cottage Café together, neither of them ever intending on letting go again.

  Autumn at The Cosy Cottage Café

  By Rachel Griffiths

  A heart-warming read about life, love, marriage and friendship

  Motherhood has been one of the great blessings of Dawn Dix-Beaumont’s life but with her children’s growing independence, it’s finally time for Dawn to return to teaching. However, Mother Nature has other ideas…

  Rick Beaumont loves his family but he’s busier than ever. With his high-flying career, two children and a third on the way, there’s a lot to juggle.

  Battling expectations, disappointments and a few surprises along the way, Dawn and Rick find their commitment to each other tested to the limit. The next steps they take will be the most important of their lives.

  So when the pressure mounts and an important decision has to be made, will Dawn and Rick’s marriage become stronger than ever, or will it be time to move in different directions?

  1

  Dawn Dix-Beaumont dropped the Lego bricks into the large plastic bucket and leaned against the wall. The colour scheme of the playroom had been chosen to create a fun and lively space for their children, but right now, in the early October afternoon sunshine, it was giving her a headache. The yellow walls, the red and blue buckets for toys, the turquoise and purple beanbags, and the green shelves, all seemed to be growing larger as she stood there. Swaying.

  Swaying?

  She slid down the wall to the floor and pressed her head into her hands. It must be low blood pressure again. She’d suffered with it in both of her previous pregnancies and it had made her feel faint and lethargic. Only it hadn’t come on quite so quickly before. This time, however, even though she was only thirty-three, it seemed that her body was not going to take pregnancy lightly.

  Thank goodness it was Friday and Rick would be home for the weekend. Since finding out about the pregnancy, she’d tried to rest whenever she could, but it was difficult with two children and a house to run. As well as a rabbit and a guinea pig to take care of.

  Shit!

  She needed to clean the hutch out before it was time to pick the children up from school. She loved the animals probably more than Laura and James did. It had been Rick’s father’s idea to get the children pets. He’d said it would encourage them to be responsible and he’d insisted on choosing the rabbit and guinea pig and paying for them. In typical Paul Beaumont fashion, he’d turned up one day with the animals, a hutch, a garden run and all the necessary paraphernalia for looking after the pets.

  Dawn had agreed with the concept of pets making the children more responsible, but her initial suspicion that Laura and James would soon tire of the day-to-day care of Wallace and Lulu had been correct, and now it was all down to her. But she didn’t mind. She liked coaxing the rabbit and the guinea pig from their hutch, as it gave her a chance to cuddle them both before letting them loose in their run.

  Of course, Laura and James did love Wallace and Lulu, although Laura was more interested in maintaining their social media profile than her younger brother was. She regularly took photographs of them on Dawn’s mobile phone, which Dawn then helped her to post to the Instagram page that Paul had set up. Wallace and Lulu’s Adventures was quite popular and received lots of likes, but Dawn also knew that it was a way for Paul to connect with his grandchildren. He was a busy man – even since his retirement – but the convenience of social media meant that he could check in with his grandchildren from the golf course, or the club at the docks where he kept his boat.

  Dawn got up slowly, stood still for a moment to ensure that her head was clear, then went through the hallway to the kitchen. She picked up the shed keys and headed out through the back door and into the garden.

  The sun was hot. Forecasters had predicted an Indian summer for England, but Dawn suspected that it would probably last a few days then they’d be plunged into Arctic conditions. The good old British weather never failed to keep people on their toes. Gone were the days where she used to pack her summer wardrobe away by September then her winter woollies by April. There was no point now; it was far more sensible to have a range of clothing to hand throughout the year.

  She opened the shed and retrieved her box of hutch cleaning supplies, as well as a bag of straw, then carried them across the garden. Lulu, the two-year-old floppy-eared rabbit hopped to the front of the hutch.

  “Hello, sweeting.” Dawn knelt down and opened the front of the hutch then held out her hand. Lulu’s nose twitched as Dawn smoothed her soft smoky-grey fur. “Do you want to stretch your legs?”

  She lifted the rabbit carefully out then let her into the large square pen made of wood and wire netting. Lulu hopped about, clearly enjoying the freedom to nibble on the lush green grass of the lawn.

  Dawn peered back into the hutch, but guinea pig Wallace had not made an appearance from the sleeping compartment, which wasn’t like him. Wallace was quite a greedy little thing and usually greeted Dawn with excited wheeking, especially if she had a carrot for him.

  She lifted the latch then gently opened the front of the sleeping compartment.

  And there, curled up on the straw, was Wallace.

  “Hey little man, don’t you want to go for a run?”

  He didn’t move.

  Dawn reached out and stroked his silky white fur carefully, expecting him to jump awake and to see his little nose and whiskers twitching as he greeted her. She gently touched his small brown paws, which made him look like he was wearing socks, then his matching brown ears. There was no response.

  His tiny body was cold and stiff.

  “Oh no!”

  She covered her mouth with her hands as tears blurred her vision.

  Poor little Wallace, just two years old like his companion Lulu, had died.

  And Dawn had no idea how she was going to break the news to her children.

  Or how she would break th
e news to their grandfather and Wallace’s Instagram following.

  Dawn opened the door to The Cosy Cottage Café and closed it behind her, making sure that her tote bag was firmly hooked over her arm.

  “Hello, Dawnie!” From behind the counter, her close friend Allie Jones, smiled warmly at her.

  “Hi.” Dawn gave a half-hearted wave then hurried over.

  “What’s wrong? Are you still feeling queasy, love? I’m sure I have another bottle of peppermint cordial here somewhere. Let me get you a glass.”

  Dawn shook her head. “No. No time. I have to pick the children up in an hour and something terrible has happened.”

  “What is it?” Allie took Dawn’s hand and squeezed it. “Not the baby?”

  “No. The baby’s fine. At least I think it is. I mean…” She took a deep breath as a wave of nausea washed over her. “I’m feeling really bad, so I guess that’s a sign that the pregnancy hormones are strong.”

  She instinctively cupped her rounded stomach. She was around seventeen weeks along now, and she felt huge. In fact, Dawn was certain that she hadn’t been this size until she was about twenty-five weeks pregnant with her first two. It was getting harder and harder to hide her bump.

  “So why are you… upset?” Allie peered at her. “Looks like you need a drink. Sit down and I’ll get you one.”

  “Oh, okay then. Just a quick one. Something cold would be lovely, thanks.”

  Dawn took a seat on the squishy couch in the corner by the front window and placed her bag on the seat next to her. As she sank into the soft leather, she sighed. If only she could just put her feet up and have a nap. Although it was cool inside the café, the afternoon was hot outside, and her t-shirt was clinging to her back following her short walk to the café.

 

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