Starry Skies Over the Chocolate Pot Cafe

by Jessica Redland

  ‘It’s Molly,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Our Molly at The Chocolate Pot?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve always liked her but she had a bit of an on-off thing with Cody so I backed off.’

  ‘Did she? When?’

  ‘Last year. He’s at uni in Edinburgh now. I don’t think they stay in touch and, well…’

  ‘If you like her, just ask her out,’ I said when he tailed off. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

  ‘She could say no.’

  ‘And the best that could happen?’

  He smiled. ‘She could say yes.’

  ‘And you’ll never find out which it is if you don’t ask. If it’s a no, then you’ve still got a friend. It might be slightly awkward when you’re on shift together at first, but that’ll pass. But I don’t think it’ll be a no.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘No, I don’t. And I think you should ask her after your shift today. You’re not on again together until Thursday so that’s plenty of time to lick your wounds if it’s a no which, as I say, I don’t think it will be.’

  ‘Thanks, Tara. You’re the best.’

  ‘It’s true. I can’t deny it.’

  Out of my peripheral vision, I could see he was grinning. It warmed my heart, not just thinking of two lovely young people getting together, but that Nathan had come to me for advice. That would never have happened before. And I’d never have noticed Molly gazing at him fondly across the café before, quickly averting her eyes if he looked up. I’d always thought that I had everything I wanted at work but getting to know the team had given me something I never even knew was missing. It made me feel valued. It made me feel wanted. And I hadn’t felt that way in such a long time.

  I parked the car and we pulled on our wetsuits then crossed the road. Leaning against the sea wall, we both paused to take in the view. There was nothing like seeing a dark expanse of ocean stretched before us, brightening as the sun steadily rose.

  ‘Race you to the sea,’ I called, sprinting down the steps.

  Back in the flat after dropping Nathan home, I showered then sat down ready for a busy day of crafting. The Christmas decorations would be going up in The Chocolate Pot the following week. I always decorated on my own because it was more practical to do it when we were closed. The thought of trying to work round customers and staff members carrying trays of hot drinks was too much like an accident waiting to happen.

  Needle felting had quickly become my new favourite craft. I’d made a few decorations that way over the past five or six years, but it had become a bit addictive for me this year and I’d produced more than expected which was something I had to be thankful to Jed for. After our encounter outside the gym in January, I’d been so angry that I’d wanted to punch something – or someone – which was not exactly the state of mind I was usually in after an hour of Pilates. Back home, I dug out a needle felt penguin I’d previously abandoned and there was something about stabbing a barbed needle into the wool that did wonders for my mood. What a tension-releaser.

  I was super proud of the needle felting decorations I’d made over the past year and was dying to hear what the team thought of them next week. It would be the perfect opportunity to reveal my secret identity as The Cobbly Crafter but I wasn’t sure I was ready. I’d already revealed so much.

  As closing time at 4 p.m. approached, I stretched, cleared my crafts away, changed out of my snuggly clothes then made my way downstairs to check how the day had gone. I opened the door then screamed at the cries of ‘Surprise!’ Party poppers exploded and streamers were unfurled in my direction.

  My heart thumped as, mouth agape, I looked round the sea of faces. In among my team – including all those who hadn’t been on shift that day – were friends from Bay Trade and some regular customers. Carly was there with Liam and her sister, Bethany. I spotted Marc with George and Sofia, and Maria’s best friend Callie and her kids. So many people and they were all smiling at me.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said, completely flummoxed as to what was going on.

  ‘You wouldn’t let us make a fuss on your actual birthday,’ Maria said, ‘so we decided to celebrate your half-birthday.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘You are exactly thirty-six and a half years old today,’ Carly said. ‘So happy half-birthday to you.’

  I pressed my fingers to my mouth and blinked back the tears, feeling quite emotional. ‘Oh my God! I can’t believe you’ve done all this.’

  There were hugs and gifts. So many gifts. Having had no birthday presents since my twenty-second birthday, it was a shock to see so many brightly coloured gift bags and packages, knowing they were all for me.

  By half four, several more Castle Street traders joined us after their own businesses closed. I’d never seen The Chocolate Pot so full and it gave me a valuable insight into what it might look like at Maria and Marc’s wedding later this month and how we could use the two floors.

  I felt like I was in a dream. Everywhere I looked, there were people smiling, chatting, laughing and they’d all gathered for me. I’d set myself up for an isolated existence yet somehow I’d managed exactly the opposite. For the first time since primary school, I had friends. Real friends. Swallowing hard on the ever-present lump in my throat, I blinked back tears once more.

  I spotted Maria and Carly craning their necks then whispering to each other and nodding. Carly disappeared upstairs and, moments later, the guests from up there traipsed down to the ground floor.

  Maria and Carly stood together four stairs from the bottom and asked everyone to gather round.

  ‘I think we’re all here now,’ Maria announced to the hushed gathering. ‘A huge thank you for joining us today as Tara reaches that highly celebrated milestone of thirty-six and a half years.’ She paused for laughter. ‘For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Maria, and I’m the assistant manager at The Chocolate Pot, I’ve worked here for seven years now and this is my way of thanking Tara for taking a chance on me and for being the best boss ever.’

  She looked at Carly who smiled. ‘Hi, everyone. I’m Carly from Carly’s Cupcakes next door. I opened my business five years ago and, when Maria asked if I’d like to help her organise a half-birthday event for Tara, I jumped at it. From the very start, Tara’s always been there for me with advice, guidance and a helping hand. I’m very proud to call her my friend.’

  My bottom lip started to wobble as they both smiled warmly at me. I hoped the speech was nearly over because I was already close to losing it and any more nice words would tip me right over the edge.

  ‘You can probably tell that we both think the world of Tara,’ Maria continued, ‘but we know we’re not the only ones. Tara, you’re going to hate this, but tough. We distributed some pieces of coloured card to as many guests as we could and asked them to either write down what they like most about you or a funny anecdote involving you.’

  I put my hands to my burning cheeks. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘We really did,’ Carly said. ‘We’ve compiled a scrapbook that we’ll give to you later, but we wanted to share a small selection.’

  ‘The first one’s from Sarah from Seaside Blooms,’ Maria said. ‘Where are you Sarah?’

  Sarah raised her hand. ‘Here.’

  Maria held up a piece of card. ‘Sarah says, “On the day I took over Seaside Blooms, I started the morning with a drink and a croissant from The Chocolate Pot. It was also the start of a new friendship. Tara, you’re a brilliant chef, an inspiring entrepreneur, a gifted mentor and an amazing friend. Happy half-birthday”.’

  Everyone clapped as I made my way to Sarah and hugged her.

  Maria and Carly took turns to read out a few more lovely comments then announced it was time to cut a cake that Carly had made.

  ‘Sheila, do you want to bring out the cake?’ Maria called.

  Carly put her arm round me and whispered in my ear. ‘I made something that’s special to you but nobody knows why and they won’t
hear it from me.’

  The lights dimmed and a decidedly off-key chorus of ‘Happy half-birthday’ began as Sheila emerged from the kitchen holding a large cake covered in candles.

  As she got closer and I could see the theme, I gasped. A carousel. A bright yellow and red canopy protected the cream horses. One of them was ridden by a woman in a flowing red coat, and another by a child and a man. Carly had remembered every bit of detail.

  My eyes met Carly’s and she gave me a gentle smile as I fought to hold back the tears.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘It’s perfect. Today is perfect.’

  ‘The Best Day Ever,’ she whispered.

  I took a deep breath, battling to control my emotions, then leaned forward, readying myself to blow out the candles. What to wish for? The obvious thing was to wish for Jed to leave me alone and to leave Whitsborough Bay, but I caught sight of Nathan standing nearby, and pictured his earnest expression on the seafront earlier as he’d talked about Molly. Taking a deep breath, I blew. I wish for Nathan and Molly to find love together.

  With great reluctance, I cut into the masterpiece that Carly had created.

  ‘Why a carousel?’ Lana asked, gazing at the intricate horses.

  ‘Because I’ve never made one before and it seemed very summery and seasidey,’ Carly responded. ‘I know it’s not summer anymore but we are at the seaside.’

  I loved that she’d anticipated an answer to questions about the cake. Although I’d opened up about losing my parents, I hadn’t talked about Mum’s mental health challenges and subsequent suicide. As Maria had said, they didn’t need to know everything.

  I couldn’t quite believe the effort and attention to detail that everyone had gone to. If I’d ever had any doubts about Whitsborough Bay being home and these people being my family, they evaporated that day. And at that point, I couldn’t keep the tears at bay any longer and spent the next hour or so blotting my cheeks and blowing my nose.

  Back in my flat that evening, exhausted but happy, I curled up on the sofa with Hercules and read through the entries in my scrapbook. It was a revelation seeing myself through the eyes of others. I wondered whether they’d have said the same things a year previously but so what if they wouldn’t have done. The person they saw now was the person I really was.

  Making my way over to the huge pile of gifts spread across the dining table, I slowly opened each one, savouring the sensation of peeling back the tape or peeking into a gift bag. I’d been well and truly spoilt. As I stood back and surveyed the generosity of my guests, it struck me how ‘me’ all the gifts were – the cosy me that I kept hidden. Perhaps I hadn’t kept it that hidden after all. Perhaps, despite my protective tower, they all really did know me. That feeling of being alone nudged at me again. I pictured all the couples and families from my party earlier and wondered for the first time whether I’d made a huge mistake in refusing to have a romantic relationship ever again. I could spend my evenings at Pilates, at Bay Trade, at The Hope Centre or mentoring but I would always come home to an empty flat and go to bed alone. Did I really want to do that forever?

  20

  ‘Namaste,’ said Karen on Tuesday night, a couple of days after my half-birthday.

  ‘Namaste,’ the class repeated. I was already on my feet, though, and rolling up my mat.

  Why? Why did he have to come to my Pilates class? Karen wasn’t the only instructor in Whitsborough Bay, so why couldn’t he go to someone else’s class and torment their customers instead?

  ‘Thanks, Karen,’ I muttered, dashing out the room.

  But, of course, that idiot was hot on my heels.

  ‘Here was me thinking you’d be putting out the red carpet to welcome me back,’ Jed said, striding beside me.

  ‘Perhaps I would have done if you’d actually been welcome.’

  ‘Aw, that’s mean.’ He gently patted my arm with his mat. ‘And it’s no way to treat your newest neighbour.’

  I stopped and turned to face him. ‘So the rumours are true – it is you who’s bought the gallery?’ I’d had a steady stream of Castle Street traders in over the past couple of days, some asking what I knew, and others clearly knowing more than I did. And none of them were happy.

  ‘I might have done,’ Jed said.

  ‘Oh grow up, Jed. It’s a simple question. Did you or didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I did, if you must know. I’ll be able to wave to you every day.’

  ‘And I’ll be able to give you the finger every day.’ I turned and walked away.

  Jed laughed loudly as he ran after me. ‘Who’s being childish now?’

  ‘You started it.’

  ‘And you continued it.’

  I stopped and turned to face him. ‘What did you expect? There are three cafés on Castle Street already. Three. Do we really need a fourth? What are you trying to do to us all? To the street?’

  He looked taken aback for a moment but then shook his head, scowling. ‘It’s a free market. I can run whatever business I want and you can’t stop me. Scared of a bit of healthy competition?’ He sounded like a petulant schoolkid and I half-expected him to add ‘so ner’.

  I shook my head and continued striding across the car park. He kept pace beside me.

  ‘There’s competition and there’s being an idiot,’ I declared. ‘Castle Street is the best street in town and you know it, but what makes it the best is the diversity. The street would have benefited from something new and different to attract even more customers, not a fourth bloody café. The rest of the traders aren’t impressed so don’t expect the red-carpet treatment from any of them either.’

  ‘So you’ve been bad-mouthing me to everyone, have you?’

  We reached the cars and I unlocked my door. ‘Get over yourself. Not everything’s about you. And this isn’t about me either. In an ideal world, I don’t want the competition. Who would? But I’ve got a great business and a great team so I’m not worried about you damaging that. What I don’t like is the impact the lack of variation will have on the street. And I didn’t need to start rumours about that. The others worked it out for themselves. Good luck.’ I jumped into the car, slammed the door and started the engine.

  Jed looked a little shell-shocked but I didn’t care. The man was clearly just as clueless about business now as he’d been fourteen years ago when I bought the premises from him. He’d obviously not thought about the impact of too many of the same type of businesses on Castle Street or how the traders would react to that. If he wanted a war, then he’d got one and I already had the strongest army.

  I was so riled when I got back to the flat that I headed straight for my needle felting. That poor robin was certainly created from hate rather than love, although he still looked pretty damn good when I’d finished him.

  Taking my laptop down to the dining table, Hercules sat on the padded seat beside me while I checked for any Etsy enquiries. I tended to find an increase in questions and orders after Bonfire Night – which had been last night – as though that was the key date after which the countdown to Christmas started.

  My mobile beeped with a text from Nathan while I was mid-message.

  ✉︎ I took your advice and asked Molly out at your party. We went out for a meal tonight and we’re going out again after work on Thursday. Thank you

  ‘And that makes three wishes and three success stories,’ I said to Hercules. ‘I wonder if I should take a trip to Hearnshaw Park and throw a coin in the wishing well to get Jed banished. What do you think?’

  Thinking about Jed made me angry again and I couldn’t concentrate on my work. I couldn’t seem to relax either so it was pointless trying to watch TV or a film. If I felt this tense from a five-minute encounter with him, what was it going to be like having him opposite, no doubt trying his hardest to put me out of business?

  21

  I spent Wednesday evening decorating The Chocolate Pot and revelled in the excited reactions from staff and customers when they arrived on Thursday and saw the ligh
ts and decorations. The compliments came in thick and fast about The Cobbly Crafter’s latest designs, yet I remained tight-lipped about my alter-ego.

  ‘Two flat whites and two pieces of millionaire’s shortbread to take out, please.’

  My ears pricked up as I recognised the voice of Anastasia from the gallery around mid-morning. I stepped out of the kitchen as Ellen, one of my full-timers, started making the drinks. ‘Hi, Anastasia. How’s it going?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s weird not working every day. I don’t have it in me to be a lady who lunches so I confess I’m a bit bored at the moment.’

  I picked up a paper bag and slid the two pieces of shortbread into it, placing them on the counter. ‘I see the gallery’s sold.’

  ‘Yes. I’m heading over there now to take the final meter readings and to do a handover with the new owner.’

  My jaw clenched. ‘Lucky you.’

  Her eyebrows raised. ‘Ooh, tell me how you really feel about him.’

  ‘Let’s just say we have history and leave it there.’

  ‘You were involved?’

  ‘God, no! He was the previous owner of this place and the purchase wasn’t the smoothest. I certainly wasn’t seeing him. Urgh.’ I shuddered at the thought.

  Anastasia laughed. ‘I can’t believe you’d say “urgh” about him. I know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder – as those damn awful cats and dogs in Galley’s paintings prove – but Jed Ferguson is sex on legs.’

  ‘Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?’

  ‘Unless there’s another Jed Ferguson. Tall, blond, tanned, yummy Australian accent?’

  I shook my head. ‘Sorry. Not seeing it.’

  She laughed again. ‘Then you might need glasses.’

  A few minutes after Anastasia left, Ellen was wiping down a table by the window. ‘Tara, is that the Jed you were both talking about?’