The Cherry Tree Cafe

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Can they come back later?’

  ‘No! Hurry up will you?’

  Of all the mornings to be running late, and now I had a visitor to contend with on top of everything else. So far I was managing to keep my nerves in check this time around and I felt barely a flicker as my mind ran through the plans for the session. No, now it was something else that was causing me problems and typically, on the one morning I couldn’t afford to, I’d overslept.

  ‘Who is it?’ I hissed as I thundered down the stairs and through the beaded curtain that separated home from work.

  ‘Oh, hello.’

  I stopped in my tracks as I came face to face with Jay, the journalist from the Café launch.

  ‘Hello, Lizzie,’ he smiled disarmingly, ‘you never called.’

  ‘I’ve been busy,’ I told him, brushing past and scowling at Jemma for good measure.

  ‘I asked Tom for your number,’ Jay continued, following doggedly on behind, ‘but he wouldn’t give it to me.’

  ‘I should think not!’ I snapped. ‘I don’t know you from Adam. You could be a stalker or a complete psycho for all I know.’

  ‘But I’m not,’ he grinned. ‘You know I’m not.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy. Was there something in particular you wanted? I have a group this afternoon and loads to do.’ I knew I sounded rude, but I was cross.

  I could see Jemma and Tom peeping through from the kitchen like a couple of kids and I guessed that they had set this meeting up. Unwittingly they were offering me Jay as a Ben alternative, but I had no desire to compromise.

  ‘Jemma told me you’d decided to go ahead with the sewing sessions,’ Jay explained. ‘She showed me the photos from the other Friday.’

  ‘What photos?’ I frowned. ‘I didn’t take any photographs.’

  ‘These,’ he grinned, lifting a large parcel on to the table and effectively stopping me from carrying on setting out the materials for the afternoon.

  ‘What’s this?’

  I pointed. ‘Open it,’ he smiled.

  ‘Tell me again,’ I frowned, ‘why exactly are you here?’

  ‘Just open it,’ he laughed, his bright blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

  It was the only way I was going to get rid of him, so I tore off the paper and gasped in surprise. I’d been meaning to ask Jemma what had happened to the cherry cupcake design I’d created and here it was, beautifully displayed in a pine box frame with a pastel pink mount, the photos of the first bunting session artfully arranged around it.

  ‘Oh my god!’ I laughed, my hands flying up to cover my face. ‘That’s amazing!’

  Jemma and Tom came rushing out of the kitchen to join us.

  ‘That looks fantastic, mate!’ Tom beamed, slapping Jay on the back and shaking his hand.

  ‘Was this your idea?’ I said to Jemma.

  ‘Nope,’ she laughed. ‘Jay thought of it. He took the cupcake design with him on launch day and I gave him the photos I’d managed to sneak a few days ago to see if he could include them.’

  ‘Wow,’ I smiled, ‘it’s stunning, really beautiful. Thank you.’

  I genuinely meant what I said. The picture was so pretty; exactly the sort of thing I loved.

  ‘Come on then,’ Tom laughed, ‘let’s hang it before we open up, then I really must get off to work.’

  He climbed on top of the cupboard, hammered in the picture hook he had magically produced from his shirt pocket and then lifted the frame into position. We all took a step back and admired our combined handiwork. It looked stunning. The tiny beads I’d used to decorate the frosting caught the light and the darker strands of thread used to embroider the Cherry Tree Café name stood out beautifully. The choice of frame and the colour of the mount complemented the design perfectly and I was feeling suitably chastened as I turned my attention back to Jay.

  ‘Were you responsible for all this, then?’ I asked. ‘Or are you just the delivery man?’

  ‘Guilty of both charges actually,’ he smiled.

  ‘But I thought you were just a journalist,’ I frowned.

  ‘And I thought you were just a barmaid,’ he grinned.

  ‘Touché!’ I laughed back. ‘Sorry, I should know better than that, shouldn’t I? It’s gorgeous. Thank you, and you guys!’ I called as Tom went off to work and Jemma disappeared back into the kitchen.

  ‘You’re welcome!’ she called over her shoulder before starting up the mixer.

  ‘It really is lovely,’ I smiled at Jay. I realised it was suddenly just the two of us again and hastily made my excuses to get back to setting up. ‘But I’m ever so sorry, I really must get on. I still have to prepare for this afternoon and the Café will be open in a minute.’

  ‘Have you any spaces left?’ he asked, as he began to fold the paper the picture had been wrapped in.

  ‘Just the one now,’ I told him, ‘Tom’s mum Maureen decided to take a spot at the last minute. She’s got to bring Ella with her though, so that will be interesting.’

  ‘Ah yes, the enchanting Ella!’ Jay laughed.

  ‘You know Ella?’

  ‘Oh yes. Whenever I go to the house she always tells me I wear too much aftershave!’

  In a flash my initial dislike of Jay was explained and all thanks to the blunt and frankly rude comments of my goddaughter. It was the aftershave. Jay wore the same Hugo Boss as Giles. How absurd that a smell could initiate such strength of feeling.

  ‘That sounds like Ella,’ I said, unnerved by the realisation that I had totally misjudged this perfectly kind, thoughtful man because he smelt like a toad from my past.

  ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I can see you’re busy and I have to be somewhere.’

  ‘OK,’ I called after him, ‘and thanks again. The picture really is beautiful.’

  He stopped at the door and turned back.

  ‘Can I see you again later?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I hesitated, unwilling to commit to anything. ‘I’m busy here all afternoon.’

  ‘What a brilliant idea!’ he beamed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, you said you had a space left, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I frowned.

  ‘Well put me down for it then!’

  ‘Are you serious?’ I laughed. ‘You want me to put your name down for the bunting-making session I’m running in the Café this afternoon?’

  ‘Why not?’ he replied. ‘If you do decide you want some publicity you’ll want someone with experience helping you out, won’t you?’

  He’d gone before I could think of a suitable answer.

  ‘You didn’t tell me Jay was such a good family friend,’ I whispered to Jemma as she carried through a tray laden with cakes and biscuits later that afternoon.

  Everyone except Maureen and Ella was settled at the tables, busily selecting fabrics. Surreptitiously I had been watching Ben’s mother but I was struggling to see her as ‘the viper with a thin veneer’ he had always described her as when we compared maternal notes. For the moment, she was seated at a table alone but chatting companionably with the women either side of her as she tried to decide which template to use.

  ‘He isn’t really a family friend,’ Jemma whispered back. ‘He and Tom used to play football together on a Saturday morning and the friendship just seemed to stick after the team folded. We don’t see him often but for some reason Ella is always shockingly rude to him!’

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘Talking of Ella, where are they? Honestly, what a day to pick to close the school for staff training! Where’s Harry?’ she called to Helen. ‘You could have brought him with you.’

  ‘No fear!’ Helen called back. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. He’s gone to play at Rachel’s. I’m picking him up later.’

  ‘Here they are,’ I said, pointing to the window as I spotted Ella trotting along, with Maureen looking flustered in her wake.

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she grimaced, struggling out of her
coat, ‘I know we’re late but I had such a job getting a certain someone off the swings.’

  Jemma quickly took her wayward daughter by the hand and led her out into the kitchen.

  ‘Don’t worry, Maureen,’ I smiled, pulling out a chair, ‘we’ve barely started. We’re still selecting fabrics. Why don’t you sit here with Mrs Fletcher and take a moment to catch your breath?’

  ‘Please, call me Ali,’ Ben’s mother smiled, ‘Mrs Fletcher makes me feel so old!’

  ‘Ali then,’ I smiled back, ‘how are you getting on with that template?’

  ‘So you’re the famous Lizzie Dixon are you?’ she said, looking me up and down appraisingly and ignoring the template completely. ‘Of course I would have known you even without Ben’s description. It’s the hair, love, makes you stand out a mile.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said tentatively, ‘believe it or not you aren’t the first person to pass comment.’

  I chose my words with care, suddenly on guard and slightly afraid that the viper was drawing herself up to strike.

  ‘I wasn’t sure whether I should come today,’ she continued just loud enough for me alone to hear. ‘It all rather depended on where Ben was on his sliding scale.’

  ‘His what?’

  ‘His “Dixon Dilemma” scale.’ She said it as though she assumed I knew what she was talking about. ‘The whole “one minute he loves you and the next he hates you” debacle, but then he buggered off to Spain and I thought, why not?’

  ‘And have you heard from him since he’s been gone?’ I asked, the words escaping before I could bite my tongue.

  ‘No,’ Ali laughed, shaking her head, ‘he’s having too much fun with his father and the new girlfriend to worry about his poor old mum.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, rewinding the conversation in my head, ‘what did you just say, the “Dixon Dilemma”? I don’t understand.’

  Suddenly my mind was reeling. What the hell was this whole love–hate thing she was going on about? It was his ex who had pummelled his heart into a thousand pieces. Surely he should have hated her, not me!

  ‘Well, at school he said he loved you, although he never plucked up the courage to tell you.’ Her tone suggested she was sick of the whole thing. ‘He knew you avoided him so it was obvious you didn’t feel the same way and now he’s come through the latest crisis and is apparently falling for you again. Although how he’s managed to see beyond the whole situation amazes me. I couldn’t have moved on, but then . . .’

  ‘Lizzie!’ Evelyn suddenly shouted from the back of the room. ‘Is this machine supposed to sound like this?’

  All the while Ali had been talking, I’d forgotten I was in the Café supposedly tutoring and making bunting. What the hell was the woman talking about? Ben had never loved me. She was clearly deluded, or unbalanced, or both.

  ‘I’m coming, Evelyn,’ I called, amazed that my voice sounded so normal because my mind was pinging off in all directions and none of them I could understand. ‘I’m coming.’

  When I came back to interrogate Ali further, she and her belongings had mysteriously disappeared.

  ‘Where’s she gone?’ I hissed at Jemma, who stood on sentry next to the now empty space.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Ben’s mother,’ I said as calmly as I could manage, ‘Ali Fletcher.’

  ‘Oh, she had to go. She wasn’t feeling well, was she, Maureen?’

  Maureen nodded but didn’t look up.

  ‘What do you think of this, Lizzie?’ Jay called. ‘How do you think this would look in my sister’s kitchen?’

  Just what exactly was going on? One minute I’m listening to Ali Fletcher telling me that her son had always had feelings for me and now I’m staring at an empty space and there’s no trace of the woman anywhere. Perhaps I’d dreamt the whole thing. Perhaps I’d had a psychotic episode and would wake up in a minute and find myself in the shower! I turned to Jay, remembering my duties as sewing session manager.

  ‘Well, that would rather depend on your sister,’ I told him bluntly, ‘wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Now then, young man,’ Evelyn teased, ‘we don’t want you monopolising the teacher all afternoon just because you’re the only man here!’

  Everyone giggled and I felt myself blush, but Jay didn’t turn a hair. I worked my way around the room correcting and congratulating wherever necessary but my mind couldn’t have been further from the Cherry Tree Café.

  By the time Jemma let Ella back out of the kitchen everyone was almost ready for a turn at the sewing machines.

  ‘You smell different today,’ Ella declared, striding up to Jay and openly sniffing at his shirt in some sort of strange juvenile challenge.

  ‘Better different or worse different?’ he asked her seriously. He didn’t even glance in her direction, just carried on tacking his triangles together.

  ‘Better different,’ she said solemnly.

  ‘Good,’ he smiled. ‘I made a point of showering and toning down the aftershave when I heard you’d be here.’

  Ella couldn’t work out how to respond but a slight blush rose in her cheeks as she carried on surveying his skill with a needle.

  ‘Why are you sewing?’ she asked, clearly frustrated that she couldn’t get a rise out of him. ‘I thought sewing was for girls.’

  ‘Did you now!’ he said sternly. ‘I see I need to have a word with your mother.’

  ‘Oh no please don’t,’ she begged, ‘I’m in enough trouble already. I only meant I’ve never seen a man doing sewing before.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Jay shrugged, reaching for the scissors and giving her a nudge.

  The session finally drew to a close and again everyone left with their afternoon’s accomplishments carefully stowed away in the bespoke Café bags.

  ‘You did very well,’ I smiled, as I let Jay out the door, ‘considering you had Ella to contend with as well, I mean.’

  ‘Believe it or not I’ve had a ball!’ he laughed. ‘Bye, Ella!’ he called over his shoulder, blowing her a kiss. ‘See you, Lizzie.’

  ‘Bye,’ I grinned. ‘I’m glad you had a good time.’

  He turned and left and I was grateful he hadn’t asked to meet me in the pub to watch Evelyn’s grand bunting unveiling.

  ‘Don’t worry about all that, Angela,’ I called as I closed the door. ‘You get off.’

  ‘No, no, I don’t mind,’ she said, scurrying about amongst the tables picking up scraps and dropped pins. ‘I’ve had a lovely time again,’ she confided. ‘I’m sending what I’ve made to my daughter this time. She lives in Australia now, you know.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness, you don’t see her often then?’

  ‘No I don’t, not any more and she’s been so worried about me but when I told her that I’d done this a couple of weeks ago she was over the moon. It isn’t easy for her being so far away and she worries even more now it’s just me on my own.’

  ‘Have you ever thought of moving out to be with her?’ I asked.

  From the look on Angela’s face you would have thought I’d asked her if she’d considered moving to another galaxy.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly, ‘I’m not like you young ones, jetting off at the drop of a hat. Take Alison’s boy Ben, for instance.’

  ‘I’d rather not,’ I muttered without meaning to.

  Angela eyed me speculatively and opened her mouth to say something else but was cut off.

  ‘Did I tell you Ruby’s leaving?’ Jemma announced as she came through from the kitchen and dumped herself down on an empty chair. ‘Her parents are worried she isn’t spending enough time studying.’

  ‘I bet she loved that!’ I said, thinking of Ruby’s militant teenage attitude.

  ‘Actually,’ Jemma replied, ‘she didn’t put up much resistance.’

  ‘Why?’ I frowned. ‘What did you say to her?’

  ‘Nothing much really, just that if she didn’t knuckle down and get her grades then she wouldn’t be going to college or university. She’d be serving tea with us
for the rest of her life.’

  ‘I can think of worse things!’ Angela chirped up from behind the sewing machine recess.

  I raised my eyebrows at Jemma and inclined my head in Angela’s direction.

  ‘Oh really?’ said Jemma.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Angela smiled, joining us at the table, ‘I’d love a little job in a place like this. Just a few hours a week to get me out of the house,’ she said dreamily.

  ‘OK then, you’re on!’ Jemma laughed, holding out her hand for Angela to shake.

  Angela began to chuckle and roll about on her seat, as round and shrill as an agitated blue tit.

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ she chuckled, knocking away Jemma’s hand. ‘Don’t be daft!’

  ‘I’m not being silly,’ Jemma told her seriously, ‘the job’s yours if you want it, Angela.’

  ‘Really?’ she asked wide-eyed and suddenly pale. ‘Do you mean it?’

  ‘Of course I do! I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, would I? What do you think?’

  ‘Oh, go on then,’ Angela said, her cheeks flushing crimson, ‘I’ll take it.’

  ‘In that case, welcome to the team!’ I smiled and reaching for a cupcake, plonked it in front of her to seal the deal.

  Chapter 17

  ‘Any chance you could stay behind for a minute?’ I asked Jemma as she set the washing-machine timer in the utility area. ‘Only I think we need to have a little chat, don’t you?’

  ‘I’d love to, Lizzie,’ she said, picking up her keys and a stack of invoices, ‘but I’ve got to get Ella sorted. You saw how she was this afternoon. She’s run poor Maureen off her feet.’

  I had no choice but to let her go. Maureen had looked less than thrilled at the prospect of taking her granddaughter home with her and I couldn’t blame her.

  ‘All right,’ I sighed, ‘but we do need to talk, Jemma. This won’t keep.’

  After she’d gone I dimmed the Café lights and stood for a moment staring at the wonderful cupcake picture Jay had framed so beautifully.

  Handsome, creative, good with kids and a cracking sense of humour.

  That would be how his lonely hearts ad would read. All the single girls I knew would have snapped him up in a heartbeat and a few of the married ones as well! He was the perfect guy to get over Giles with and if it weren’t for this strange twist in the Ben Fletcher saga I probably would have flung myself at him without a second thought. However, there was no denying there was a twist in that particular tale and I was determined to iron it out once and for all.