‘Thanks,’ Isla managed to call back. The sausage roll recipe had come from Gran and the secret ingredient, she divulged to the two women in a whisper, was the homemade relish in the sausage meat. Thankfully she had also supplied the homemade ingredient, made with Joe’s late summer oversupply of tomatoes preserved last year. Isla narrowed her eyes, fancying she spied a smudge on one of the wine glasses sitting on the tray on the counter waiting to be filled. There’ll be no smudges on my watch. She picked up her tea towel and honed in on it. ‘Prosperity and success is my natural state of mind,’ she murmured not for the first time that day. Her nerves were in overdrive, and she fumbled the wine glass as she picked it up to polish.
‘What’re you on about?’ Annie appeared from the kitchen, her hair tied back in a ponytail and her face pink from leaning over the oven. In her hands, she held two fizzing champagne flutes. ‘Isla, that glass is fine put it down before you drop it.’ Annie’s tone held no room for argument and Isla did as she was told, grateful to be taken in hand.
‘We’ve got twenty minutes until show time so come and sit down and compose yourself. You need to take a load off those feet; you haven’t stopped since this morning.’
Isla was full to brimming over with nervous energy, but she followed Annie’s lead and sat down opposite her. The reclaimed timber table top worked a treat with the wrought iron chairs; she ran her hand over the wood. They’d been worth every penny she’d bid at auction. She cast her eyes around the room trying to see it through a customer’s eye. She’d never felt uncertain about her design choices in the past, but then she’d never had any input on a project so close to her own heart before either.
The fireplace with its railway sleeper mantle and surround looked great. The gas fire below with its flickering flames might have cost a bomb to install, but it did add cheer and warmth to the room as well as lift the last of the winter chill. Did the couch in the corner beckon you over with its overstuffed cushions and quilt draped over its arm, though? She hoped the exposed timber ceiling beam and floors along with the mining memorabilia lent the space a rustic, countrified air. Her aim was for people to feel they’d walked into a place that was cosy and comfortable. A space where they could relax and enjoy the wholesome food and drink on offer.
Perhaps she should have gotten a liquor licence too? There was so much red tape involved with that though, something Gran and Saralee were already coming up against with Project Matchmaker, not to mention the expense. She’d fretted over the decision but in the end had opted to leave that corner of the market to the Pit up the road – had she made a mistake?
‘Isla, it looks amazing. You should be proud of yourself.’ Annie seemed to have read her mind.
‘I couldn’t have done any of it without you.’
‘To us then.’
‘To us,’ they chorused.
Isla felt the tension slowly leave her body and her shoulders relaxed as the bubbles tickled the tip of her nose. This was her big night, and she was going to enjoy it. There was no need to be a bundle of nerves, not when everybody who was coming tonight wished her well. The two friends sipped their champers in contemplative silence, which was broken by a knock on the door. They looked at each other and smiled with the anticipation of everyone’s reactions to all their hard work.
An orange face peered around the door. ‘Can we come in?’
‘Of course Mum, welcome to Nectar,’ Isla declared, quickly untying her apron and smoothing the fabric of the plum-coloured wrap dress she wore beneath it.
Mary stepped inside the refurbished café, her heavily mascaraed eyes wide as she took in her surrounds. ‘Oh Isla, Annie it’s wonderful, and you both look lovely.’ She promptly burst into tears.
‘Your makeup will run, and you’ll look like one of those ring-tailed lemurs,’ Bridget tutted at her daughter but her eyes too, Isla noticed, were suspiciously shiny. ‘Well done girls, you’ve done a marvellous job, and I agree with Mary, you both look very smart,’ she said.
As for Joe, well Isla only knew it was her father bringing up the rear by the cowboy hat and boots at either end. His face and midriff were completely hidden by two huge bunches of red–stemmed silver beet and leeks that he pronounced were freshly picked for use in the café over the weekend. Isla’s mind was already whirring; the leeks could be used in the base of the French Lentil soup being served over the weekend, and the silverbeet would go well in the vegetarian quiches. A glance at Annie told her she was thinking the same thing as she took the vegetables from Joe and carried them through to the kitchen. She too had discarded her apron and looked lovely in the rust-coloured shift dress that set off her colouring a treat. Isla coveted those gorgeous red leather boots of hers. Yip, she decided, for a pair of country bumpkins they scrubbed up pretty well!
‘You’ve done us proud, Isla,’ Joe said, once he could see where he was, and he pulled her into a bear hug. That was when Isla felt her own eyes well up. As she broke free of his embrace, she spied Saralee, in a pretty floral top and black jeans, with Ben and Hayden hovering near the door and she went over to welcome them.
‘Did Joanne and the children come?’ she asked looking over Hayden’s shoulder.
‘No, she sent her best wishes and apologies, but Jo didn’t trust the kids not to trash the joint.’
Isla laughed. ‘They can’t be that bad.’
‘Yes, they can,’ Ben muttered receiving a sharp look and elbow in the ribs from Saralee.
Annie appeared offering to fetch them all a drink, and they moved over to the counter. Isla watched in amusement as her friend’s face lit up at the sight of Kris walking in through the door.
She was distracted by a tap on her shoulder.
‘I hope I’m not late. I had a meeting with this kid’s parents about their son who’s a total bully, only they refuse to acknowledge it,’ Callum grinned apologetically. ‘The joys of teaching in a PC world gone mad.’
‘Oh, poor you, and you’re not late,’ Isla said smiling back at him.
He produced a bunch of flowers from behind his back. ‘These are for you, and you look gorgeous by the way.’
‘Oh, Callum they’re beautiful, thank you.’ Isla knew it would have taken some organizing on his part. The closest florists were in Greymouth, and this beautiful colourful bunch hadn’t come from the bucket of water inside the Four Square’s entrance.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered, kissing her on the cheek.
‘Thanks, I’ll take all the compliments I can get. I feel frazzled – like I’ve run a marathon and just about reached the finish line.’
Isla didn’t see Ben watching her from across the room as she headed through to the kitchen to put them in water, but Bridget noticed. The older woman shook her head. Saralee was a lovely girl, and she was doing a wonderful job on Project Matchmaker, it was just that she wasn’t the girl for Ben. Just as Callum wasn’t right for Isla. The four of them needed their heads banging together, but she knew it was a conclusion they would have to reach in their own time. She eyed the pumpkin seeds sprinkled on top of her vegetable tartlet with suspicion before taking a bite. Outside, the wind began to blow.
Carl and David were the last to arrive, making a grand entrance as always. Carl announced to all and sundry that he felt as though he’d just been blow-dried within an inch of his life thanks to that God–awful, unseasonal nor’wester blowing outside. Running his fingers through his hair, he made a beeline for Bridget, eager to introduce his honorary grandmother to David.
Isla mingled around the room, at the opposite end to Annie, as they made sure everybody had something to eat and that their drinks were topped up. She hadn’t planned on making a speech but looking around at everyone gathered, she felt an overwhelming urge to say thank you. The excitement and enthusiasm they were all displaying for her venture brought a lump to her throat as she went and stood alongside the countertop.
‘Excuse me,’ she said in her loudest voice tapping her wine glass with a spoon and waiting until al
l eyes had swivelled towards her.
‘Hi everyone, I’d like to take a minute to welcome you all officially to Nectar.’
There was a general murmuring response and raising of glasses.
‘Everybody in this room has been instrumental in some way or other, whether it’s been hands-on help or giving moral support with getting this café looking as gorgeous as I hope you all think it does.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Carl called, and Isla smiled.
‘I’ve had to pinch myself several times today to make sure this is all real. I can’t say it’s a dream come true because I didn’t know it was. It just happened. But a dream come true is how it feels standing here tonight, and I feel so blessed to be sharing it with you all. Annie, none of this would have happened without you, and I’m so glad I met you although, I have to say I’m going to miss the Blue Mountain coffee.’
Annie raised a watery smile, and Kris pulled her close to him.
‘I am so excited about this wonderful adventure we’re embarking on as of tonight, and I couldn’t do it without all of you. So, thank you, everybody, for coming. To Nectar.’ She raised her glass.
‘To Nectar.’
She felt warmed by the round of applause. Her speech was completely off the cuff, but it was also heartfelt.
Isla said goodnight to the last of the revellers, but Callum lingered. ‘Early start tomorrow?’
‘Uh-huh, Annie and I’ll be in at five prepping anything we haven’t been able to make ahead of time today.’
‘I suppose I should see you home then.’
Isla’s eyes twinkled, she was still celebrating. ‘Or we could go to your home.’
Chapter 26
By closing time on Saturday, Isla was a wreck, and she had to do it all over again tomorrow, she thought, squeezing the sponge out before wiping the kitchen bench down. She wasn’t complaining though. If it were as busy everyday as it had been today, then she’d be doing very nicely thank you very much. The vacuum cleaner droned from where Annie was clearing up, front of house. The day had been a big success with the locals turning up in force to take them up on the offer of a free slice with any hot drink purchased. The consensus was that Annie’s Neenish slice was a hit and should be a Nectar staple.
Isla had seen so many familiar faces, all come to wish her well and to see what it was she’d done with the place. The feedback, Annie told her as she whizzed out the back to collect the soup that Isla was ladling from the simmering pot on the stove, was all good. Principal Bishop, or Jim as he insisted Isla call him now that she was an adult and would no longer be sent to his office for a slap on the hand, had popped in. He was followed closely behind by Violet McDougall, and Isla smiled seeing his former secretary’s face turn puce with pleasure as he offered to buy her a cup of coffee. She wished she could bang their heads together and make them see that they were made for each other, but you couldn’t do that. People had to come to that conclusion in their own time, she mused as Annie frothed up a storm behind her with her new baby, the coffee machine.
She appeared now, dragging the vacuum cleaner behind her. ‘I’m shagged,’ she said before giggling and adding, ‘But then you’d know all about that.’
Isla groaned. ‘Ha, ha.’
‘Well?’
‘Well, what?’
‘Was it good?’
‘It was nice.’
Annie glanced at her quizzically as she wrapped the vacuum’s cord up before shoving it back in the cupboard, ‘Nice?’
‘Alright then, very nice.’
‘Oh, dear the “nice” word.’ She made an inverted commas sign with her fingers.
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘I think the problem with sex with Callum being nice is obvious.’
‘Actually I said very nice, and what do you mean?’
‘I mean the person you’re mad about is Ben. I saw you looking at him last night.’
‘I was not!’
‘Ah, yes you were, and I caught him looking your way too more than once.’
‘Nope, no way.’
‘She who doth protest too much.’
‘Oh alright, maybe I do still have feelings for him but it’s a waste of time, he’s with Saralee, and I do really like Callum.’
‘So what’re you going to do about Ben?’
‘There’s not much I can do. You can’t revisit the past, and like I told you I hurt him. I doubt he’d ever trust me in a romantic way again. It’s a moot point anyway because he’s obviously happy with Saralee even if she did say things weren’t serious between them. And, I want to give things a chance with Callum.’
The days turned into weeks and ticked over into months. Time was whizzing by and Isla wouldn’t have believed summer was nearly here had she not spotted a cluster of vibrant poppies in the front garden as she’d headed to Nectar that morning. The apple tree too was in full blossom. It was evening now though, and outside the wind had begun howling like a banshee. The petals on those poppies and the apple tree’s blossom were probably headed to Christchurch by now, she thought as she folded the washing in the clothes basket.
Coal had claimed his spot on the rug by the fire, which they’d laid despite the lateness of the month, and the air was rich with the smell of roasting meat drifting in from the kitchen where Bridget had taken charge. Isla smiled, watching his little nose twitch as he caught a whiff. ‘Sorry buddy, it’s a tough life being a cat. Gran and I are having a roast dinner, but it’s a cordon bleu meal of Friskies and Jelly-meat for you.’ His ears twitched at the sound of his beloved’s voice, but he was too warm and cosy to bother opening an eye and looking at her.
She must remember to give Carl a call later regarding the meeting for Project Matchmaker that Gran wanted to hold next month. It was only four months until Valentine’s Day now, and things were progressing nicely in that department, with the tickets having officially gone on sale this week. Isla had put a stack on the counter today, and between her and Annie they’d already sold fifteen, mostly to locals.
She’d owned the café for nearly six whole months and business was certainly brisker than it had been under Noeline’s ownership, with Nectar gaining a reputation for wholesome, delicious food that brought people back. Her dad was a star, keeping them well supplied with fresh produce, and Isla and Annie had settled into an easy-going daily routine. Those first few weeks of mayhem as they found their feet were a distant memory that they would shake their heads over now, looking back and wondering how they ever got through.
Isla had wondered if she’d done the right thing initially. Rita from Break-Free had said she’d been suffering from Rushing Woman’s Syndrome and that she needed to slow down and be kinder to herself. So, what had she gone and done? She’d sped up. But she and Annie had got through it, and Isla was happy. She was enjoying rising to the challenge of building up the café and slowly word had spread that it was a place worth stopping by on the tourist trail. They’d established a weekday clientele of regulars too.
One of Isla’s favourites was the town’s policeman. Tepene, or Tep as he was known to the locals, was a big burly Maori fellow. He called in most mornings for a coffee and something sweet. There was no lady at home filling the tins with sweet treats, he’d lament leaning on the counter, adding that it was his bad luck that the two most beautiful ladies in Bibury were taken.
Marie, who owned the town’s only hair salon was a regular for her morning latte too. She’d confided in Isla that she was lonely as she waited for her coffee one morning. It was three years since her husband had left her and she was ready to move on. There wasn’t much on offer in Bibury, and those that were available weren’t keen to take on the baggage that came with three kids under sixteen, she said eyeing the chocolate brownie. The same routine played out most mornings, with Marie insisting that she was going to be good today. It was swiftly followed by, ‘Ah, no go on Isla. Life’s too short to be good, I’ll have a piece of that brownie please.’
Principal Bishop had taken
to having his lunch at the café on Friday, his treat to mark the end of the working week. It made Isla sad to think of him going home to an empty house for the weekend, and she’d always give him an extra piece of toasted bread with his soup. As for Violet McDougall, well, she’d negotiated a discount for her and her Scottish Society ladies who held their meetings at Nectar on a Wednesday morning over tea and cake. The pinched set to her mouth these days hinted at an underlying unhappiness, and Isla knew she was lonely. Then there was young Beau, the butcher’s apprentice. Isla had an unspoken arrangement with him whereby he gave her the choicest meat cuts, and she gave him the largest sausage roll for his morning tea. He’d always appear in the café at the same time as Ellie from the Four Square and Isla, would will him to just talk to the girl, but the one time Ellie had tried to spark up a conversation he’d gotten all red in the face and tongue-tied.
Isla knew there were some lonely hearts in Bibury and she hoped the Matchmaking Festival might weave some much-needed magic through the town. She wasn’t one of them though because to her surprise she was still seeing Callum. Their relationship was easy and uncomplicated; she could relax around him. They had a lot of fun together too, but it didn’t go much deeper than that. Neither of them seemed to have an inclination to take things to the next level either, and that suited her just fine. For once in her life, Isla was going with the flow.
Ben and Saralee were still growing strong and from time to time she’d feel a pang of something she could only label as jealousy when she saw them together. She’d shake the feeling off though and concentrate on happy, positive thoughts like Rita had told her to do. Saralee was a lovely girl; the couple were well suited. She and Ben had never been meant to be, she’d tell herself, drawing a line under it.
Now, she picked up her pile of folded washing. She put her things away first, saying hello to Caroline as she always did when she walked into her room after a day at work. She liked to think the doll was pleased to see her despite her unblinking gaze. Normally she left Gran’s things on her bed but hearing her pottering away in the kitchen she decided she’d save her the job. She found where she kept her tops in the third dresser drawer down, hung up a pair of trousers and then she opened one of the drawers in the top of the dresser to pop her smalls into. Well, they weren’t so small actually, she thought with a wry smile.
Sweet Home Summer Page 20