The Second Chance Tea Shop (Little Somerby)

by Fay Keenan

  Matthew, the haunted expression still evident in his eyes, couldn’t take it in. ‘You love me? In spite of everything?’

  Anna nodded. ‘Always.’

  And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around her, both of them knew their future could only be together. Matthew was still shaking so badly he could barely stand, and Anna clung onto him as if she was drowning, but in a sense they were both just coming to the surface.

  As they parted, Matthew looked down at Anna wonderingly. ‘I’m not angry anymore.’ He traced Anna’s lips with his fingers. ‘You give me such peace. I’ve never felt so calm as when I’m with you.’

  ‘Really?’ Anna hiccupped, realising that, to any onlooker, peaceful was the last thing they looked. Even as she brushed the tears from her eyes she couldn’t help saying. ‘And you make me so happy.’ Somehow it seemed right that this had happened in a place that had meant so much to her and James. It signified the coming together of two parts of her life.

  ‘So… time to go home?’ Matthew said.

  ‘Yay!’ Ellie, bored of chasing beech leaves pulled at Matthew’s jeans-clad legs until he gathered her up in his arms.

  Anna gave the first laugh she’d managed in many weeks. ‘I think so.’

  Hand in hand, Matthew cradling Ellie in his free arm, they strolled back over the common.

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  55

  ‘Where do you want all this?’

  Anna looked up from counting the till float and laughed. ‘When I said I wanted some mistletoe, I wasn’t quite anticipating that much!’

  Matthew nudged the front door of the tea shop shut with his elbow, walked over to the sofa in the corner and dumped the huge armful on the coffee table. ‘It’s rather fond of apple trees, and although we need to keep the commercial stock parasite-free, I couldn’t quite bring myself to have it all cut out of the show orchard.’

  ‘You old romantic,’ Anna smiled. ‘There I was, thinking you ran the business with your head.’

  ‘Most of the time I do,’ he said. ‘But somehow, lately, I’ve been persuaded that my heart occasionally has to have a say.’ He drew closer to her. ‘I can’t think what’s changed my mind.’ He brushed his lips against Anna’s. Deepening the kiss, she slid a hand through his silver black hair and allowed herself to luxuriate in the sensations for a moment or two.

  ‘What time’s kick-off?’ Matthew asked as they broke apart.

  Anna tweaked her ponytail and smiled. ‘Six o’clock. Ursula and Brian’s flight lands at three thirty, so hopefully they’ll make it on time.’

  ‘Meredith’s coming with – that boy,’ Matthew still couldn’t bring himself to mention Flynn’s name, despite their tentative rapprochement, ‘and Dad’s asked Miss Pinkham.’

  Anna raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh yes? He said he was bringing someone, but was cagey about exactly whom. That’s a turn-up for the books!’

  ‘Do you want a hand hanging some of this stuff?’ Matthew gestured to the mistletoe, which was already shedding berries on the sofa.

  ‘Haven’t you got to get back to work?’ Anna asked. ‘I thought things were always hectic before shutdown.’

  ‘Jonathan’s tying up a few loose ends for me before he flies back out to the US tomorrow,’ Matthew said.

  ‘He’s not here for Christmas?’

  ‘Nope. Got a better offer, apparently.’ He raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘I should imagine it’s got a woman on the end of it.’

  ‘We really need to get him settled down,’ Anna laughed. ‘He’s getting too old to fly halfway around the world for a date.’

  ‘Don’t let him hear you say that,’ Matthew grinned. ‘As far as Jonno’s concerned, he’s still in the prime of his adolescence.’

  ‘I’m glad you two are managing to run things OK, though,’ Anna said. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Matthew gave a strange smile. ‘And neither did Dad. Speaking of whom, I should probably go and check on him before this party kicks off. Do you mind?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Anna said. ‘Lizzie’s coming in at five, and between us we’ll get this place sorted.’ She smiled. ‘So get going and I’ll see you later.’

  A couple of hours later, the Little Orchard Tea Shop Christmas party was in full swing. Paperchains hung from the ceiling, made by Ellie and Evan the night before, and tea lights glowed in festive-coloured glasses on the tables. Despite the small floor space, Anna had managed to cram in her parents, Ellie, Charlotte, Simon and Evan and the book club. In the other corners of the room, Jack Carter and Miss Pinkham raised a mug of mulled wine together and Ursula and Brian were sipping Scotch-infused coffee and sampling some of Anna’s Christmas-inspired cinnamon and almond cupcakes. As Anna approached their table, her godmother looked up at her.

  ‘Well done,’ she said, putting her cake back on the plate. ‘This place is looking busier than ever. I knew I left it in good hands.’ Struggling to get up, she enfolded Anna in a warm embrace. ‘I’m proud of you. And James would have been, too.’

  Anna hugged Ursula back. ‘Thank you for trusting me.’ She closed her eyes; the changes in the past year suddenly leaving her awash in another emotional sea. ‘I like to think he would be, too.’

  ‘We need to talk about what happens next at some point,’ Ursula said when they broke apart again. ‘After all, it looks like you’re pretty settled here.’

  ‘I am,’ Anna nodded. ‘And it looks like you’re pretty settled in Umbria.’

  ‘Let’s get together and discuss it over the holiday, shall we?’

  Meredith and Flynn were tucked out of the way at the table near the back of the tea shop with a large group of their St Jude’s friends, and, as Anna broke free from Ursula, she was sure she didn’t imagine Flynn trying to make a bolt for the kitchen when the tea shop door opened to reveal Matthew as he stepped in off the street.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he murmured as he walked straight up to Anna, cutting through the other party guests like a cake knife. ‘Something came up at the last minute.’ He leaned down and kissed Anna briefly.

  ‘There’s always something,’ Meredith said, leaving Flynn at the table and joining them. ‘What was it this time?’

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ Matthew said hurriedly. ‘It’ll keep.’ He pulled a hand out of his coat pocket. ‘Need any help handing things around?’

  ‘I think we’ve got it under control,’ Anna said. ‘Just grab some mulled wine and a sandwich and relax.’

  Meredith grinned. ‘Great party, Wicked Stepmother. These cheese and pickle sarnies are lush.’

  ‘Glad you like them,’ Anna said wryly as Meredith sneaked one from Ellie’s plate, who squealed in protest until Meredith pinched a cupcake from the nearby cake stand and put it on her plate instead.

  About half an hour into the party, when everyone was suitably relaxed and the mulled wine was starting to take effect, Anna glanced around at her guests. The tea shop was packed with most of her regulars and quite a few droppers in. Groups of people congregated around tables and it wasn’t just the children who were enjoying pulling the mini crackers.

  She headed over to the counter and cleared her throat. ‘Thanks, everyone, for coming tonight to celebrate my first year, almost, of running the Little Orchard Tea Shop. And Christmas, of course.’ She looked around at the gathered friends, family and clientele and smiled. ‘When I first came back to Little Somerby, I had no idea that managing the tea shop would involve so much hard work, but also so much fun and laughter. I hope that this party has gone some way to show how much I appreciate your support.’ Her gaze lingered on Matthew and Meredith. ‘So much has changed for me, in ways I never thought possible; and you’ve all been such a huge part of that. Thank you.’ She swallowed hard. ‘And have a very Merry Christmas.’

  Sometime later, after the guests had left, Anna wiped her last table. Lizzie had also left, and her parents had taken Ellie home for the night. Jack had left with Miss Pinkham and Meredith and Flynn had also wa
ndered off. Matthew had vanished earlier, but had promised he’d be back to walk her home. She looked at her watch on the way back through to the kitchen. As she was hurriedly washing and drying up a couple of stray plates, she heard the bell ring above the tea shop door.

  Wandering back through, she stopped in her tracks. Matthew was in the doorway, a look of uncertainty on his face. Snowflakes shimmered around him, backlit by the white streetlights, and a few had settled in his hair. She was taken back to the day she moved into Pippin Cottage, and he’d stood in her kitchen doorway. So much had changed since then.

  ‘Everything OK?’ she asked, wiping her hands on the tea towel she was still holding.

  Matthew looked at her long and hard. ‘Just taking a moment.’

  ‘For what?’ Anna dumped the tea towel on the counter and walked towards him.

  Matthew smiled and glanced upwards at the sprig of mistletoe that Anna had hung above the tea shop door. ‘I don’t think you’ve made use of any of that cursed plant yet, have you?’

  ‘Well, Jack did catch me as he was leaving.’

  ‘You’d better come here, then.’ Pulling her towards him, he captured her mouth in a passionate kiss.

  Breaking apart some moments later, Anna caught her breath. ‘Crikey,’ she said. ‘I’ve completely forgotten about the cold.’

  Matthew grinned. ‘Perhaps this might also help to take your mind off it.’ Rummaging in his jacket pocket, he withdrew a small, midnight blue velvet box.

  Anna’s heart stopped.

  Matthew took a step away from her, and with a slight grimace at the action, gently got down on his good knee. ‘I’ve been waiting for the right moment since that day on the common,’ he said. ‘But between the kids, the tea shop and the cider farm, there never seemed to be one. So now seems as good a time as any.’ A lock of hair fell over his forehead as he looked up at her, a look of intensity in his eyes that she’d seen so many times before. ‘So will you be my own Wassail Queen, Anna Hemingway, and also do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  Anna, struggling suddenly for breath, could think of no other words but ‘I will.’ She opened the jewellery box and her heart thumped. Lying on the velvet cushion was a gold band set with five antique diamonds. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she whispered, blinking furiously as her vision blurred.

  Matthew’s face, so serious during his proposal, relaxed into a grin. Rising to his feet again, he drew Anna closer once more, and kissed her; a kiss that was long, sweet, and laden with the promise and hope of a lifetime. ‘I’m glad,’ he said as he released her. ‘And I can tell Meredith she was right.’

  ‘No need, Dad,’ Meredith called from across the street. ‘I knew that already.’ Sliding back into Flynn’s protective embrace, she waved and headed off home.

  Anna laughed. ‘One step ahead, as ever,’ she said. Then, looking back up at Matthew. ‘Walk me home?’

  Matthew smiled back. ‘Always.’

  We hope you enjoyed this book!

  Fay Keenan’s next novel is coming in 2018

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  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, huge thanks to Caroline Ridding and Sarah Ritherdon and the team at Aria for their enthusiasm for this story and its characters. Many, many thanks also to my wonderful agent, Sara Keane, who showed me just how amazing literary agents can be.

  To my husband Nick, whose apparent indifference to the whole process was at times infuriating and at others motivating. The gift of the ‘book signing pen’ was truly wonderful, though. To Mum and Dad for always encouraging me to write, and to Mum again, and Helen and Penny for being perfect proof readers and having eagle eyes. To Luke for filling me in on Police procedures after car accidents and Michael for listening to the ramblings. To Flora and Roseanna, of course, for making writing my guilty pleasure between refereeing their sisterly squabbles.

  To Backwell School, especially the English Department and library, who put up with my nonsensical ramblings about imaginary people for the best part of three years. You’re all wonderful and I couldn’t imagine working with a more brilliant, compassionate and indulgent bunch of people. Especially Steph Hollington, who listened, read and humoured me throughout.

  To Vicky Bagley, who was my first editor for this project, back when it was at first draft stage. You believed, and I needed that!

  To the fabulous friends who read, critiqued and suggested – especially Carly Kilby, who while we swam was a sounding board for a lot of plot points. Also Dee, Beth, Sarah, Bex, Anna, Kate and the rest of the yummy mummies for reading and encouraging, and all those who have supported my writing in one way or another.

  To the wonderful writers I have met in real life and online. Lynn Kendal, your friendship, support and encouragement over more years than I care to count has got me to this point; ditto Rhianna Pratchett. To Bristol University Teachers As Writers group for all the encouragement. Also, the ladies of the South West Chapter Romantic Novelists’ Association for allowing me to hang out with you. To Sue Wilsher and the talented and lovely ladies of the Mumsnet Get Published Facebook group for all of your support and encouragement.

  Thanks also to those whom I’ve asked random questions over the past few years; Sam Burke for the medical advice and Matt at Thatchers Cider for giving me a tour at the early stages of writing.

  And finally, to you, the reader, for reading this novel. I hope you’ve enjoyed it!

  About Fay Keenan

  FAY KEENAN was born in Surrey and raised in Hampshire, before finally settling in the West Country. When Fay is not chasing her children around or writing, she teaches English at a local secondary school. She lives with her husband of fourteen years, two daughters, a cat, two chickens and a Weimaraner called Bertie in a village in Somerset, which may or may not have provided the inspiration for Little Somerby.

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  First published in the UK in 2017 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Fay Keenan, 2017

  The moral right of Fay Keenan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN (E) 9781786694881

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