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

  She carried a tray of vanilla-frosted cupcakes around, offering them to people she knew and strangers alike, until the tray was empty and her face ached from maintaining a polite smile and repeating words of condolence.

  Every time Allie attended a funeral and a wake, she had to battle her own demons, but she suspected it was that way for most people. The grief of others was bound to remind you of your own. Although it was true, the old adage, that time did help with the healing process. The pain would never completely disappear, but it wasn’t quite as sharp, except for those odd occasions when it took her by surprise. But that was to be expected; she had lost her husband, after all, and when he was so young.

  She swallowed hard. Roger had been gone six years and she had kept going by putting one foot in front of the other. That was how it was done. Some days were harder than others and she couldn’t deny that she sometimes indulged in daydreams about what might have been had things worked out differently, but she had become quite adept at giving herself a firm shake and donning the good old stiff upper lip. Besides, her version of differently was more complicated than she cared to admit to herself.

  It wasn’t until after everyone had gone and she was filling the dishwasher that she realised she hadn’t seen Chris again.

  “Jordan?”

  Her son paused in covering sausage rolls with cling film. “Yeah?”

  “Did you see Mr Monroe at all?”

  “Why, Mum? Has he done a runner without paying you?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “No. Uh… I don’t think so anyway.”

  Chris had paid a deposit over the phone when he’d booked the café but she hadn’t seen him to take the balance. Although in circumstances like these, she often didn’t expect the rest on the actual day because people were generally too upset to think about money. Her daughter, Mandy, told her she was too soft and that she let people take advantage, but Allie saw it as part of what The Cosy Cottage Café represented for her and for the locals. It wasn’t all about the money and she could trust most people to pay her within a few days. Chris would likely do the same.

  “I just didn’t see him again after he… popped into the kitchen to say hello and I wondered if he was okay.”

  Jordan scrunched up his nose then flicked his head to clear his fringe out of his eyes. He had, thankfully, worn a clip in it for most of the day – to avoid adding his blond hairs to the food he was serving – but it seemed that he’d removed it since the café had emptied. Which meant the leftover sausage rolls would now have to be eaten by Allie, Jordan and the cats. Just in case.

  “He’s probably just upset, Mum. He has lost his mother. Perhaps he went out for some fresh air. I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Yes. I’m sure you’re right.”

  Allie closed the dishwasher then switched it on and went to the sink to wash her hands. She gazed out of the latticed kitchen window at the pergola she’d had built in the spring, where the fragrant pink flowers of the climbing honeysuckle now bloomed in abundance. As well as being good at baking, she’d discovered that she had green fingers, and everything she’d planted within the café garden was thriving. There was a definite satisfaction to be found in gardening and enjoying the fruits of that pastime.

  She went through to the café and made a mug of tea, then took it over to the comfy leather sofa in the corner by the window. She put the mug on the small wooden table then slumped onto the sofa and smiled as it squished up around her. It was an old one that she’d found in a charity shop and it was exactly what she’d imagined having in her own café. Behind it, and on the opposite wall, were shelves full of books all genres. Her regulars often brought in books they’d read and donated them to her shelves then took ones that they wanted to read. On quieter days, and sometimes after closing, Allie liked to curl up on the sofa with a warm drink and a book and to lose herself in another world.

  The café was, in her eyes, perfect. Inside and out. The exterior was chocolate-box pretty with a thatched roof and shuttered windows. Roses climbed around the door and ivy climbed the walls. A café sign in the shape of a teapot hung from the side of the building. She had sown wildflower seeds for the bees and butterflies in pots and raised beds, and as it was summer, everything in the garden was in full bloom. She’d even managed to find some colourful milk-urn planters that she’d filled with trailing nasturtiums and their bright orange, red and gold flowers made her heart lift every time she saw them.

  Inside, she’d had the two front rooms of the cottage converted into one big room, with the counter in the far right corner from the door and the café kitchen behind that. Allie had gone for the shabby-chic look, using reclaimed wood and second-hand furniture that she found online and in antique shops, and tables in a variety of colours and shapes took up most of the floor space. She often wondered if it was a reaction to the life she’d shared with Roger, when everything from their house to their carpets to their towels had to be brand new, spick and span. After he had died, Allie had gone out of her way to find the perfect old cottage to convert into a café, as well as searching for the loveliest second-hand furniture, fixtures and fittings. Roger had wanted everything in his home to tell people how successful he was and how well he was doing. And for a while, Allie had gone along with that, but when she’d lost the first flush of youth and Roger had expressed his disappointment with that, Allie had been devastated. So yes, perhaps her rebellion against all things new was deliberate.

  A large log burner was centred on the back wall, directly opposite the front door. It wasn’t currently lit but had logs piled up inside it with sprigs of dried lavender and rosemary tucked in around them. On cold winter days, the log burner kept the café warm and the table nearest to it was very popular.

  The ceiling was white with exposed wooden beams that gave the café the cosy cottage atmosphere Allie had envisioned. She’d hung salvaged 1920s raspberry glass pendant lights from between the beams and they created a relaxing ambience in the darker afternoons that came with autumn and winter.

  As she sipped her tea, the strains of being on her feet all day slipped away, and her thoughts strayed once more to Chris. It wasn’t the money she was worried about, and she had no doubts that he would pay his bill. She just really wanted to see him again. He was one of her oldest friends and she’d like to catch up and find out how he’d been all these years. Everyone of her own age in the village seemed to be married or remarried, and lots of her old school friends had moved away a long time ago.

  At one point Allie, Roger and Chris had been inseparable. A wave of nostalgia washed over her and she shuddered with surprise. Chris’s return to Heatherlea was having quite an impact on her.

  She did have some good friends in the village now; they just weren’t ones she’d grown up with. So it would be nice if she got the chance to chat to Chris about old times. And there was nothing wrong in wanting to do that with an old friend now, was there?

  2

  Allie peered at the red digital display of the clock on the bedside table and groaned. It was six o’clock but her room was still quite dark and that never inspired her to get out of bed.

  She rolled over and was greeted by a terrible stench.

  “Eurgh!” She reached out and her hand met soft warm fur. “Is that you, Ebony?”

  The cat purred in response.

  “Where’s your sister?”

  As if summoned, silver grey Luna pushed open Allie’s bedroom door and entered, bringing a warm glow from the hallway. Jordan must have forgotten to turn the light off again before he went to sleep.

  Allie sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The double bed that she usually shared with a cat. While Luna was quite an independent feline, preferring to spend her nights going in and out of the cat flap on the backdoor, Ebony liked to spend her nights cuddled up to her mistress. Although Allie had originally tried to discourage the cat from sleeping with her, she now welcomed the presence of another living being at night. It could get
lonely and Ebony offered the sweet, unassuming company that Allie appreciated.

  Luna let out a meow then began circling Allie’s legs.

  “I know, I know. Time for some breakfast.”

  Both cats shot out of the bedroom door and Allie followed them, pulling on her dressing gown as she descended the stairs.

  After she bought the cottage, she’d had a ground-floor extension built at the rear. The building maintained its original façade but out back was an L shape, with her kitchen and lounge overlooking the back garden. When she’d had the property renovated, turning the ground floor into The Cosy Cottage Café, she’d kept the first floor as it was, with three bedrooms. Two of the bedrooms were small but the master bedroom was an adequate double. The bathroom, however, was the size of a phone box with just a shower, sink and toilet, and Allie did sometimes miss soaking in a bubble bath. But she couldn’t deny that it was cosy and she was perfectly comfortable there.

  The cottage offered the security she’d craved following the loss of her husband, and Allie, Jordan and the cats managed just fine. She did miss Mandy, who had moved away to attend university just before Roger died, and only ever returned for a few days at a time. However, she understood that her daughter was following her dream career in publishing and that she had to be at the heart of it all in London. Besides, Allie knew that Mandy had struggled terribly with the loss of her father, and that coming back to Heatherlea was painful for her. So she kept a room ready for Mandy, in case she ever wanted to come home, but she suspected that her daughter never would, at least not on a permanent basis.

  Allie switched the kettle on then poured cat kibble into two bowls under the breakfast bar. As the cats crunched contentedly, she made herself a mug of tea and drank it gazing out of the long windows that overlooked her lush green garden and the fields beyond, watching as the sky changed from indigo to rose. The old saying red sky at morning, shepherd’s warning… popped into her mind. She really hoped it wouldn’t rain today because she had washing to peg on the line, including the tablecloths from the wake yesterday, and she wanted to try to get out for a walk. It was all very well owning a café and being able to bake delicious delights for her customers, but Allie sometimes enjoyed a few too many of those delights herself, from leftover cupcakes with rich fondant icing to buttery croissants that melted in the mouth, to tasty savoury quiches. So she tried to walk every day to keep the wobbles at bay.

  Chris certainly hadn’t looked like he had any extra pounds to spare, even though he must be forty-four now, at two years older than Allie. In fact, he looked pretty good with his salt-and-pepper hair and lean jaw, as if time had improved him like a fine wine. And his chocolate-brown eyes were still gorgeous. She recalled how they used to twinkle mischievously, suggesting that he knew far more about what she was thinking than she could ever imagine. But that had been before everything had changed.

  “Mum!” Allie jumped and spilt tea down her fluffy dressing gown. “Where are the frosted flakes?”

  “When did you get up, Jordan?”

  “Just now.”

  “But it’s not even seven o’clock yet.” He wasn’t an early riser, even as a child at Christmas time when Allie had been up hours before him and Mandy, waiting for them to wake up and open their presents. And waiting for Roger to wake up, of course, because Christmas Eve often saw him enjoying a few drinks at the pub then not wanting to rise too early the following day.

  “My rumbling stomach woke me.”

  “Oh.” Allie grabbed a tea towel and tried to use it to mop some of the tea from her front. “Didn’t you eat enough yesterday?”

  He shrugged.

  “Maybe not. Anyway, what’s got you gazing into the distance?”

  “What?”

  He produced a box of cereal from the cupboard then shook it.

  “Your face was all dreamy like you were thinking about what you’d do with a lottery win.”

  “Was it?” Allie shook her head then pointed at the fridge where a magnetic notepad held the weekly shopping list. “Write frosted flakes on there.”

  He nodded then peered into the cereal box. “Not sure these bran flakes are still good. They look a bit grey.”

  “Toast?”

  “Please.”

  Allie opened the bread bin and pulled out a wholemeal loaf then popped a few slices into the toaster. Thank goodness Jordan thought she was daydreaming about the lottery. If he knew the truth, she suspected he’d be horrified. Allie was way past the stage where she fantasised about handsome men and way past the stage where she could imagine being with anyone again.

  Besides, Chris was just an old friend and she doubted he’d be hanging around in Heatherlea for long. So she’d have to make sure she didn’t allow her fantasies to get too carried away.

  “Ooh! What’s happened to you?” Camilla Dix leaned on the counter and stared hard.

  Heat rushed into Allie’s cheeks at the sudden scrutiny.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Camilla narrowed her eyes, “you look different.”

  “Do I?” Allie turned to the counter behind her and picked up a plate laden with sandwiches.

  She pretended to arrange the triangular slices of bread for a moment, so her colour would have time to fade. When she turned back to her friend, Camilla had her hands on her hips and was chewing her bottom lip. “I know what it is!”

  “Oh?” Allie came from behind the counter and carried the plate of sandwiches to the table in front of the log burner. She put it down then busied herself setting four places with cutlery and wine glasses.

  Camilla clapped her hands. “You’re wearing makeup!”

  Allie frowned. “So? I always wear makeup.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I do, just not much.”

  “It’s the mascara and flicky eyeliner.” Camilla gestured with her hands in a manner that suggested Allie had wings either side of her nose.

  Allie shrugged. “Just trying something new.”

  “It looks nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  The door to the café opened and two women entered.

  “Hello!” Camilla’s younger sister, Dawn Dix-Beaumont crossed to Allie and hugged her then did the same to Camilla. “Feels like a year since we last got together. It has been such a long week.” She pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “Allie, it smells incredible in here. Have you made lemon drizzle cake?” Honey Blackwell sniffed the air dramatically and Allie smiled. Honey was currently enthused about an amateur dramatics class that she was taking and everything she did was exaggerated, as if to show how good she was at acting.

  “I know it’s your favourite, Honey.” Allie said. “I’ll just get the wine.”

  She went through to the kitchen and got two bottles of white from the wine cooler. When she returned to the café, she paused for a moment by the counter and smiled. Six years ago, her life was very different; she had a husband and two children and lived in what was then a new-build on the other side of the village. Her daily routine had involved household chores and a certain amount of daytime TV. She’d been plodding along, even though she’d sensed that something wasn’t quite right, possibly that something was missing. Of course, her daughter had gone off to university, leaving her with the beginnings of empty-nest syndrome. But at least she’d still had Jordan at home – leaving his dirty socks lying around, as well as plenty of dirty dishes in the sink and muddy shoes in the hallway.

  Then everything had changed.

  She’d lost Roger, twice in one day. Out of the blue. Well, she’d told herself it had been out of the blue but she sometimes suspected that she’d known more than she’d cared to admit to herself. The accident had been fast and fatal, tearing Roger from his family forever. Allie had been left to pick up the pieces.

  And now…

  She’d used his significant life insurance to invest in a fresh start. It had been hard at first, because she’d found that she didn’t want to touch
the money, almost as if it was tainted. But necessity had driven her to see a financial adviser and to consider her future, as well as that of her children.

  She had never really liked the new-build, preferring the quirks and idiosyncrasies of older cottages, as well as having her view of it distorted by Roger’s obsession with everything new – including women, it later emerged – so selling the family home hadn’t been that hard. Then she’d put an offer in on the rather run-down cottage and with the help of a good local builder, had transformed it into The Cosy Cottage Café. The necessary food hygiene qualifications had been acquired while the building work was being done, and Allie had worked hard to bring everything together.

  With the passing of time, had come new friendships. The raven-haired, green-eyed sisters Camilla and Dawn had always lived in the village, but with them being younger than Allie, at seven and nine years respectively, she’d only ever known them to say hello to in passing. Then one day they’d come into the café together on a quiet day, and Allie had ended up joining them for a coffee. And that had been that. As for hippy Honey, as Allie affectionately thought of her sweet-natured friend, the twenty-six year old artist had inherited her aunt’s cottage in Heatherlea two years ago, and soon settled into a routine as one of their group. With her light-brown eyes and green and blue hair that made Allie think of a mermaid, she always brought a smile to Allie’s face. She was only two years older than Mandy, but very different to Allie’s serious daughter, and Allie sometimes wondered if the young women would get on should they meet.

  She suspected that Mandy’s grief had affected her deeply and added to her serious nature, but also knew that growing up with a father like Roger would have had an impact upon her. He had loved his children and provided for them, but he’d been so stern and such a perfectionist, and it had been hard to live up to what he’d expected from his family. Allie knew she could have made the move to leave him when Mandy and Jordan were younger but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Roger’s parents had both died when he was at university – his mother first then his father two years later – so she’d worried about him being alone. Her own parents had always been so happy and united, and Allie believed in marriage and commitment. As soon as she’d known she was carrying Mandy, she’d felt that she had only one course open to her: marriage to Roger, and he had agreed wholeheartedly. She didn’t want her parents to see her as a failure, as being incapable of finding the love they shared. Even though she knew they’d never express it outwardly, the idea that they might think it made her sad, especially as she felt she’d let them down by not going on to higher education as she’d planned. She hadn’t wanted to fail at that, then at her marriage. So she’d stuck with Roger in spite of her misgivings.