The Heart of Baker’s Bay
Page 17
“We need to go home right now,” she says in between gulps of air.
“What’s wrong?”
She lets out another sob, but I can’t understand her words.
“Is it Tim?” I have a really bad feeling.
“No. He’s fine. It’s Gran.” She sniffles.
My stomach fills with dread. “Has she broken her other leg?”
She shakes her head. “We need to get to the hospital. Gran’s had a funny turn,” she manages to choke out.
“Okay,” I whisper.
I run to the bedroom and grab my yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt. I dress quickly and throw a few things into my bag. The adrenalin takes over as my flight mode kicks in. I grab hold of my sister’s arm, leading her out of the cottage. She hugs me tightly before I lock the door.
“It’s going to be okay,” she says, only her grim expression doesn’t match her words.
We go to the car park at the edge of the village and locate Hannah’s car. We throw our bags into the boot and buckle into our seats. Hannah and I hug before she puts the car into drive and we’re on our way. I stare out of the window while the journey remains quiet.
I never imagined my trip to Clover Bay would end so abruptly. As the beautiful coastal view begins to slip away, I wonder if I made a mistake. All my life, I’ve always taken the easy option, only choosing to go after what I want half-heartedly. Maybe I was wrong when I told Adam I needed to start proving myself at home. Maybe my destiny was to find a new place to work hard for.
The thin country roads stretch wide into long, busy city streets as we approach Manchester. The quiet life I’ve come to love is transformed into a vibrant city. We pull up at the hospital a few hours later where we find Tim waiting for us. He wraps his arms around us both and we stay in his tight embrace for a few minutes. Clover Bay is now feeling like a distant dream. We race inside the main entrance and find the map of the building.
“Which ward are we looking for?” I ask Hannah.
“The stroke ward,” Hannah replies, looking at me with uncertainty. I now understand what a ‘funny turn’ means. My gran has had a potentially life-changing condition. Hannah grabs my hand, offering a reassuring squeeze.
“Okay. We need to find the ward and find out how bad it is. Are you ready?” Hannah says.
I nod, wiping a tear from my cheek. The ward is located down a long corridor, and as we draw closer, I begin to feel light-headed. I’m scared of what we might find. Even though my gran and I weren’t close, I love her dearly. I don’t want to see her looking or acting differently.
Tim presses the bell on the wall to alert staff to our visit. A short, stocky woman shows us to a small waiting room while she checks some details with the doctors. I sit on a chair, resting my hands over my eyes while my sister and Tim cuddle. A few minutes later, my mum appears in the doorway. Her eyes look red raw and her hands are shaking.
“I’ll take you to see your gran in a moment, but I need to speak to you first,” my mum says.
“Is gran okay?” Hannah asks as my mum holds her hand up to stop her saying anything else.
“You can see her to say goodbye. She’s unconscious, and unfortunately, she’s not going to wake up. The doctors are going to turn the monitors off.” Her voice wavers as a tear slides down her cheek.
I stare at my mum, unable to move. Everything feels surreal. I was only talking to my gran a few days ago and we were making plans for the future. How can she be gone just like that? I am going to miss her and I’m already regretting all the things I didn’t do with her. I should’ve spent more time with her. I should’ve made more of an effort to get to know her. My heart hurts from all the missed opportunities.
Thirty-Three
Jody
Two weeks later
Tuesday
A black cloud looms over my head. Since my grandmother’s death, I feel like I’m losing everything. Instead of moving forward with my newly learnt skills and business knowledge, I’m back to treading water with nowhere to go.
I pour the hot liquid into the small tin before starting on the next one. The smell of blackberries is making me hungry, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.
“Five hundred down and only another two hundred to go. Thank you for your help,” Sarah says, lining up the next set of tubs. We’re packed like sardines into the back of her shop, working on a small camp stove. Sarah really can work her magic anywhere.
“It isn’t like I have anything else to do,” I mutter under my breath.
She squeezes my arm. “After the funeral tomorrow, you’ll feel better. At least you’ll have a little closure. You just need to stay positive.”
I empty the last few tablespoons of liquid into the last tub and put the pan on the heat mat.
“I feel guilty because, although I’m sad my gran’s died, I’m also upset I’m back to being the girl without a plan. I’m a terrible person.” I rub my eyes. I haven’t told anyone else how I’m feeling, but Sarah won’t make me feel worse.
“You’re not a bad person. Come here.” She hugs me as tears roll down my cheeks.
“I’m lucky to have you.”
“I love you.”
I squeeze her tighter before letting go. “I love you too.”
“What’s your sister said about you moving out?” Sarah asks as she begins to tidy up the utensils we used to make the lip balms.
“I can stay for now, but it feels like pity rather than her wanting me there.” I smile weakly.
“I don’t like seeing you like this.” She frowns.
“My life can’t go back to the way it was. I won’t let it. I want to work in the food industry. I’ve enjoyed baking all summer. Maybe I should look for a cooking course.”
“That’s my girl. Max’s Bakery will have some stiff competition.”
“Or, if I can’t beat them, I should join them. I wonder if they have any vacancies.”
Sarah glances at her watch. “It’s after lunch. Maybe we should wander down there.”
My stomach rumbles right on queue. “Good idea. Let’s go.”
We grab our handbags and Sarah locks the door. We walk towards the bakery. The workmen have moved their construction further down the road, but overall, everything looks the same. The homeless guy is sitting next to a boarded-up shop, and the shopkeepers are busy at work behind the windows.
When we approach the front door of the bakery, I see my first glimpse of luck. Sarah and I smile at each other.
“That job has to be yours,” Sarah says, pointing at the poster.
I cross my fingers as we head inside. Sarah follows my lead.
“What can I get you lovely ladies?” the old man behind the counter says.
“Two chicken sandwiches, two orange tarts, and an application form, please,” I say.
“Actually, make that three of everything; sandwiches, tarts, and bottles of water.”
I look at her curiously, wondering who our mystery guest is. “Something you want to tell me?”
“Well, I had to find a surrogate best friend while you were away.”
I told her all about Kayleigh, but she never mentioned her friend.
“Bernard’s been joining me for a picnic in the park.”
“Who’s Bernard?”
She points to the homeless guy, and I vaguely remember her mentioning his name before. “Ah, I see. Nice choice,” I say with a cheerful smile. “At least I know he’s not going to be taking my free samples. I don’t think he’s a lipstick guy.”
“I think he’s going to like your treats better than mine. I’ve been feeding him spaghetti loop wraps.”
“That’s really gross. How can someone with such good taste in beauty products and friends eat something like that?”
She laughs. “Bernard didn’t complain.”
I tuck the application form into my bag, feeling the most optimistic I have in weeks. When we’ve paid for our food, we walk over to Bernard. He joins us on the short journey to the park, an
d we sit on the wall.
“If I get the job at Max’s, this could be the new normal,” I say, unwrapping my sandwich.
“Have you been away? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks,” Bernard asks.
“I’ve been helping my gran with her café.” A wave of sadness washes over me. Clover Bay has my heart in a tight vice, and it still doesn’t feel real that my gran isn’t here anymore.
“That’s a nice thing to do,” Bernard says, digging into his sandwich.
“Yes. It was. Jody’s a nice person. Unfortunately, her gran passed away about two weeks ago,” Sarah says. I know the nice part was to cheer me up, but it doesn’t work.
“I’m sorry about that.” Bernard sounds sincere.
“It’s okay.” Desperate to change the subject, I add “So, what’s your story?”
“Jody!” Sarah scolds.
“I don’t mind sharing.” He twists the cap off his water and takes a long drink. “My wife had cancer. Towards the end, I couldn’t see the point in living without her. I needed to escape everything and everyone.”
“That’s so sad.” I think back to Adam hiding away in Clover Bay. He’s the opposite of Bernard. He took safety in the place he loves rather than running away. I’m beginning to understand why he made that choice.
“All the pressure of my life is gone now I have no responsibilities, but I do have regrets. I have a grown-up daughter who I left behind.”
“Have you tried to find her?” I ask.
“I don’t have her contact details.” He digs around in his pocket for a tissue and uses it to wipe his lips.
“The internet can find anything these days.” I tap my phone with optimism.
“Nobody has ever found me.” He slumps his shoulders forward.
“You’re off the grid, that’s why. I bet your daughter isn’t. We could be your private detectives.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. You girls have already done a lot for me.”
“A few spaghetti hoops and sandwiches is not a lot.” Sarah hands out the tarts when we’ve finished the sandwiches.
“I need this, Bernard. My life has gone up in flames and I need something to look forward to,” I say, half-joking, but it would give me a purpose.
“What regrets do you have?” He frowns.
“I left Adam back in Clover Bay and I didn’t even say goodbye.” I bite my lip, trying to stop the sadness surfacing.
“Oh, honey. He seemed like a great guy,” Sarah says.
“I really like him, but I can’t have a future with him unless I move to the seaside permanently.” I look away from her, avoiding eye contact.
“Then why are you drowning your sorrows here?” Her eyebrows squeeze together.
“What about you and my family?”
“Love conquers all. Besides, we both know you don’t fit here. Maybe you never did,” Sarah says.
“I don’t have anywhere in Clover Bay either,” I say glumly.
“What about the café?”
“I’m guessing it now belongs to my mum, but she hates the village she grew up in. Adam will buy the Botanist, and I’ll hopefully be working at Max’s Bakery. End of story.” I swing my legs against the wall, trying to hide my true feelings. This is not what I wanted to happen.
“Why does that have to be the end?” Bernard asks.
“I’m ready to stop dreaming and start living. I want to refine my baking and learn to stand on my own two feet. I’ve learnt commitment and hard work is needed if you want something badly. I want a secure future, with qualifications and solid ground to build something I can be proud of. I’m not going to be a one-week waitress or two-week maid anymore. I want a permanent job.”
“Good for you,” Bernard says.
“I obviously want you to stay here, as long as it’s what you want,” Sarah says, narrowing her eyes like she doesn’t quite believe me.
“It is,” I say, but I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince them or me.
We finish up our lunch, say goodbye to Bernard, and head back to Sarah’s shop. This is the way my life is supposed to be. I can help my friend and find my own future.
Thirty-Four
Adam
Wednesday
I stand staring in the deserted café window, feeling the loss of the iconic landmark. Molly was always there for me when I needed her, and although she was leaving, the Botanist looks wilted. The atmosphere is drained, and the fake flowers look dull. I wish I could’ve said goodbye. I touch the glass, my future and past aligning in my thoughts. I want to revive the beauty of the tearoom but keep the memories sacred.
I step back, instantly feeling the lost connection from the window both physically and mentally. My gaze lingers a few moments longer, hoping I can do the place justice. I have an appointment with the estate agent to finalise my offer. Today is Molly’s funeral, but I didn’t want to put the meeting off. I don’t know the stipulations of her will, but I want the new owner to know their options.
I begin my walk up out of the village. The ‘Clover Bay’ welcome sign is no longer a barrier in my mind. I know what I want, and I’m ready to make it mine.
Something changed that day I found Jody gone. Instead of feeling upset, it sparked a fire in me. She’s good at stirring unwanted emotions within me. If I wanted my life to pass me by then what I was doing was going to be the same for the next forty years. I’d be alone living in my dad’s house, watching the tide wash away time, and although I’ve lost the girl, I don’t want to lose my future.
I want to fight for the things I deserve. I want a family and business in the heart of Clover Bay. I want to share what I have with people that love me and who I love back. That’s why I made this appointment today; I could’ve made the offer over the phone, but it was important for me to expand my boundaries. To break free of the barriers I’ve created in my mind.
I open the door to the estate agent’s with determination. I’m no longer afraid to leave my comforts behind.
A woman in a suit approaches me. “Can I help you with something?” She smiles kindly.
“Yes, I’m Adam Davis. I have an appointment with Cassandra.”
Her face lights up. “Great. Come on through. I’m glad you could make it.”
She leads me to her office and pulls up the file on the Botanist Tearoom. “Are you sure you don’t want to look around the building before you put an offer in to buy the cottage and shop premises?”
“No. I’m familiar with the layout.”
“And you’re offering the full asking price?”
“Yes. It’s worth every penny.” I guess most people would barter, but I already spoke to my dad, and we decided securing the business was more important, especially now the sentiments of the café might no longer count for something. The village won’t be happy if a chain store gets a hold of it.
After a few more simple questions, my offer is in writing and ready to be sent first thing tomorrow. Out of respect to the new owner, we decided to wait twenty-four hours, but the café feels within my grasp. I step outside the estate agent’s and look down the street towards the train station. A place I haven’t visited in years. I took a day’s holiday for the meeting today, so I have free time.
I could be in Manchester for the funeral in a few of hours. It would be the right way to say goodbye to my old friend. She was so much more to me than that; she was more like family. Before I can talk myself out of it, I set my feet in motion away from Clover Bay, away from my safety net. This isn’t about Jody, even though I don’t like the way we left things. This is about me saying my final farewell to someone I loved.
I buy my ticket from the machine and get ready for the train to roll onto the platform. I know the schedules from years of the tourists expecting me to be a walking timetable. Maybe, subconsciously, I knew there was a possibility I’d end up here today.
Once the train arrives, I get on and wait for the panic to set in. I’ve never been to Manchester. It’s unfamiliar territory. When the de
tails of the funeral were in the local newspaper, I did look at the online street maps. I told myself it was just curiosity, but sitting here, I’m not so sure. I might’ve only brought the money in my pocket and my phone, but maybe, deep down, I knew this journey might’ve been a possibility. It’s time to start living, so I sit back and hope this won’t be something I’ll regret.
I open the door to the church and step inside. It slams loudly and everyone turns to look at me. I’m so relieved I made it. I didn’t consider how people would react to me being here. I mumble an apology before taking a seat on the back row. I lean hard against the pew, making the wood creak, but nobody turns around.
To say this isn’t where Molly grew up, there is a good turnout. Everyone’s dressed smartly in black and white, including me. When I set off this morning, I didn’t know this was where I’d end up, but it feels right to be here. The last funeral I attended was my mum’s, and even though it was a hard day, I’m glad I went. Seeing the white lilies scattered over her grave and the love people had for her made it easier to cope. Molly was important to me; I want this memory of her too.
I listen to the service and add money to the collection plate. The family is the first to leave the church, and I’m one of the last to follow. Jody is standing with her sister and an older woman, who I’m guessing is her mum. They all have a similar look about them, but Jody is the one that stands out. Even sad, she has a glow about her that outshines everyone else.
Jody’s voice wavers when she latches her eyes on to me. “Adam,” she says in surprise.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I say the words that never truly meant anything when they were said to me. It’s hard to express sympathy and sound sincere.