The Cherry Tree Cafe

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Hey, Maria!’ Sophia called across the sparkling kitchen. ‘Look who I found!’

  Maria appeared from behind one of the fridges, her face an exact replica of her sister’s. They were twins, I realised, and seemingly identical in every way.

  ‘We woke you!’ she said aghast. ‘I told Sophia we would but she said if we were quiet which she never is, that it’d be fine. I knew it wouldn’t be. I did try and tell her!’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I told her, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu descending, ‘I needed to get up anyway.’

  ‘Bread guy’s here!’ Sophia bawled from the shop floor. ‘Finally! He’s gonna get a piece of my mind.’

  ‘Help yourself to coffee,’ Maria nodded, ‘we’ll be back in a minute. This guy’s gonna get a piece of my mind.’

  ‘I’ll grab one in a minute!’ I called after them, my head spinning as I wondered if they always repeated what the other said and if so, how did they decide who got to say it first. ‘I’m just going to get dressed, but thanks!’

  ‘OK, good morning, everyone,’ Deborah beamed at her assembled team. ‘As you know, today is going to be something of a red letter day for the City Crafting Café.’

  I took a deep breath and offered what I hoped was a confident and reassuring smile. This was it; this was my first day working at the Crafting Café and in spite of my earlier faux pas I was determined to regain some ground and secure myself that all important good first impression.

  ‘Firstly let me begin by introducing you to Lizzie Dixon.’

  I widened my smile a little and gave a nod.

  ‘As you know, Lizzie will hopefully be taking over the Café in a few weeks but is joining us now so she can see how things operate.’

  ‘We’ve met her already,’ chirped up Maria and Sophia in unison.

  ‘And we have cakes in the oven,’ continued Maria.

  ‘And buns to be iced,’ backed up Sophia.

  ‘So if you don’t mind?’

  ‘No, ladies, that’s fine,’ Deborah said, somewhat nonplussed, ‘we’ll catch up with you in a minute.’

  Maria and Sophia disappeared back into the kitchen and we were left with just three other members of staff.

  ‘OK, this is Janice,’ Deborah said, introducing me to a smart middle-aged woman who did not look at all pleased to see me.

  ‘Hello, Janice,’ I smiled.

  ‘Hi,’ she replied frostily.

  ‘Janice is my right-hand woman,’ Deborah elaborated. ‘She runs the counter on the crafting side, as well as lending a hand in the Café when we’re really busy. Sometimes I wonder how she manages with just one pair of hands!’

  Janice was still smiling, but no hand-shake was forthcoming.

  ‘And then we have Sasha and Rob who wait on the tables and help Sophia and Maria in the kitchens.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Rob smiled shyly.

  ‘Love your hair,’ Sasha beamed, her own a riot of colour.

  ‘Thanks,’ I smiled; at least there were two people here who might listen to what I had to say.

  Janice was clearly not impressed by my presence and the terrible twins I could tell already would stand for no interference in their kitchen.

  ‘So!’ Deborah boomed. ‘Felting this morning, knit and natter over lunch and quilting this afternoon. Any problems?’

  ‘If I could just have a quick word about the felting workshop, Deborah?’

  ‘Of course but you better talk to Lizzie. She’s the one in charge!’

  Oh god, oh god! Please don’t let there be a problem already!

  ‘We have no tutor,’ Janice said bluntly. ‘Annabel phoned me at home last night. Her daughter isn’t well so she can’t make it.’

  Deborah groaned.

  ‘You should have called last night,’ she moaned.

  Janice looked as if she was well aware of that but, knowing it was my first day, had no intention of making life easy for me.

  ‘I could take the session,’ I offered. ‘Admittedly I haven’t felted anything for a while but if you show me where everything is, Janice, then I’m sure it’ll all come back to me. What time does the session begin?’

  ‘Nine thirty,’ said Janice, clearly disappointed that I hadn’t crumbled.

  ‘Plenty of time,’ I smiled, ‘let’s get on then.’

  Ideally I could have done with a few extra hours to get my felting technique back up to speed but I stumbled through the session and thanked my lucky stars that it was a beginners’ slot. The knit and natter pretty much ran itself and I had the chance to introduce myself to some of the customers and quiz them about what they loved about the Café and whether there was anything they would change.

  The only thing they suggested was that the menu was a little lacking in variety. Needless to say, the thought of tackling Maria and Sophia filled my heart with dread but such problems could be dealt with further down the line.

  The afternoon quilting session was an intermediary skill slot so the ladies attending only needed minor input and it soon became clear that they could teach me as much as I could teach them.

  ‘So,’ said Sasha, at the end of the day as she sat on one of the tables swinging her legs, ‘how was your first day? Did you like it?’

  ‘It was different and very busy,’ I told her seriously.

  ‘Good different or bad different?’ she quizzed.

  ‘I’ll let you know when my head stops spinning!’

  ‘Cool. Right I’m off. I’m gigging tonight.’

  ‘What?’ I snorted. ‘After a day like this you still have the energy to gig?’

  ‘Oh, this has been nothing!’ she laughed. ‘You wait until Saturday! You won’t know what’s hit you!’

  Chapter 28

  Sasha wasn’t wrong. By the end of Saturday afternoon when I finally flipped the shop sign from Open to Closed I was almost dead on my feet. During the previous five days I had partaken in every conceivable craft Granny had taught me, waited on dozens of tables, dealt with a handful of queries, checked what seemed like a thousand orders and had at least half a dozen run-ins with Janice whose dislike of me seemed to be growing daily.

  ‘So,’ smiled Heather as we sat together in the Café eating the lasagne and salad Maria and Sophia had kindly plated up, ‘any thoughts? How are you finding it?’

  ‘Absolutely exhausting,’ I admitted, ‘and exhilarating and absolutely nothing like I expected!’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Deborah asked.

  ‘It’s just so busy,’ I said, ‘all the time!’

  Deborah and Heather laughed and exchanged glances.

  ‘And this is a quiet time,’ Deborah told me. ‘You wait until the winter. We’re inundated from October until, well, March really. Aren’t we, Heather?’

  Heather nodded in agreement and not for the first time I felt a little knot in my stomach and a question forming in my mind. I hastily brushed both aside, thinking I just needed to up my game, get back up to London-speed rather than the casual laid-back small town pace I’d slipped into at the Cherry Tree.

  ‘How are you finding the staff?’ Heather asked tentatively.

  ‘Sasha’s a blast and Rob is lovely,’ I began, ‘Maria and Sophia are fantastic. I didn’t know what to make of them to begin with, always arguing with each other and sniping but they seem to run like a well-oiled machine as does the kitchen. However,’ I winced, ‘I think I might like to make some changes to the menu. Mix things up a bit. What do you think?’

  Deborah and Heather exchanged further glances but this time didn’t comment.

  ‘How about Janice?’ Deborah asked. ‘Has she been giving you any trouble?’

  ‘Well, you’ve been here, Deborah,’ I said, deciding not to hold back, ‘sometimes she’s been downright rude and in front of the customers. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset her but if she’s the same next week I’m going to have to say something. Is that OK?’

  This time it was Heather who spoke up.

  ‘We perhaps should have
mentioned it before,’ she began but Deborah cut her off.

  ‘What Heather wants to say and I should have let her say it before you came really.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Is that Janice was the other interested party.’

  ‘You mean she wanted to buy this place?’ I gasped. ‘She was the other buyer who was hanging on?’

  Deborah and Heather nodded.

  ‘God, I wish I’d known. Why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘We didn’t want to make it awkward for you,’ Heather said.

  ‘And we thought she’d be OK,’ Deborah chimed in.

  ‘But she isn’t OK, is she?’ I frowned. ‘How long has she worked for you, Deborah?’

  ‘About fifteen years.’

  ‘And did she have any reason to think that you might sell to her?’

  ‘We had touched on it in the past, but not in any detail.’

  ‘So she thinks I’ve just elbowed my way in and taken the opportunity that should’ve been hers! The poor woman, no wonder she can’t stand the sight of me.’

  This was clearly a problem that needed addressing. If I was going to buy the Crafting Café, any issues between us were going to have to be resolved. Janice was fantastic at her job and the customers clearly loved her. I couldn’t afford to lose her. I decided to wait another week to see if the dust settled and then, if it didn’t, I’d have to say something.

  The following week passed in much the same vein as the first. Thankfully Janice did relent a little in her assault, but to be honest, every day was so packed I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t. With courses running both mornings and afternoons and then a more sociable, less structured event over lunch, there was hardly time during the day to draw breath.

  As I ticked the days off on my calendar, it became increasingly obvious that I was never going to have any time to do any crafting myself. I had been planning to make things to sell in the shop but at the end of every day I was just too tired and had to accept that that was never going to happen.

  The second week I’d been less involved with the crafting sessions as well. Various tutors had appeared and taken charge of the classes leaving me to deal with the mountains of paperwork and seemingly endless invoices that would be my responsibility when Deborah finally cut the apron strings.

  I had hoped to catch up with Henry and see a bit of the city at some point, but I was at the mercy of the Café and its incessant demands and any free time I did manage to squeeze out of the day was no good for him and his new girlfriend.

  ‘We really do want to see you, Lizzie,’ he told me, ‘but Sundays are a definite no-go, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I told him, willing my tired self not to cry, ‘I’ll probably be asleep all day anyway.’

  ‘When are your parents back?’ he asked brightly. ‘Can’t they come and see you?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘they’re not due back before my month here is up.’

  ‘Well, what about that Jay chap? You said you weren’t holding a grudge, especially after he helped you with the move. Why don’t you ask him?’

  So I did.

  I think Jay was a little overwhelmed by the reception he received when he turned up at the flat the following Saturday evening. It had been one hell of a week and as the pressure had built up I was beginning to feel more and more homesick, and not just for the Cherry Tree and my flat either.

  I couldn’t deny that I was missing Jemma and Tom and Ella, and of course Ben. It didn’t matter that they’d all deceived me and kept me in the dark – if any of them had turned up and offered to take me home I would have jumped at the chance, but they didn’t, so I made do with the next best thing Wynbridge could offer.

  ‘How was your journey?’ I asked, standing on tip-toe and kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘It was OK,’ he frowned, clearly confused by my demonstrative welcome. ‘How are you?’

  I shrugged and let out a long breath. I wanted to tell him everything; that it wasn’t what I expected, that it was beginning to dawn on me that it wasn’t what I wanted, that actually I just wanted to go home, but that had all been hard enough to admit to myself and given Jay’s track record I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t go running home on Monday morning and tell everyone else.

  ‘I’m good,’ I said wearily, ‘I’m knackered but I’m good.’

  ‘You look knackered,’ he said, staring down at me.

  ‘Oh thanks.’

  ‘Sorry, you know what I mean.’

  ‘Yeah, you mean I look knackered! Don’t worry about it. I know I do. Getting back up to London speed is taking a bit longer than I thought.’

  ‘How about we stay in tonight then?’ Jay suggested.

  His words were music to my ears.

  ‘And eat takeaway out of the containers?’ I asked hopefully.

  ‘And drink this?’ he grinned, producing a very tempting-looking bottle of Prosecco from his bag. ‘A little bird told me you like it and I thought it might do you more good than cider!’

  By nine thirty I was stuffed, sleepy and a little squiffy. We had talked about nothing important, opting instead to watch the TV rather than chat while we ate but I couldn’t put it off any longer. I couldn’t go to bed not knowing.

  ‘So how are things at the Cherry Tree?’ I asked, picking up a stray strand of noodle from the floor. ‘Have you been in at all?’

  ‘A couple of times,’ Jay shrugged, draining his glass, ‘it all looks a bit sad what with the crafting area still empty and everything.’

  My heart thumped a little harder at the thought that it was still there, just waiting for me to bring it back to life again.

  ‘Everyone was gutted when they found out you’d gone. I think Tom’s tried to find someone else to take it over but had no luck and as far as I know it’s the same with the flat.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ I said, feeling torn between disappointment and delight, ‘but what about your frames? Aren’t you going to display them in the Café now?’

  I thought about the solitary framed picture that I had left behind. I’d desperately wanted to bring it with me but I hadn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of having such an emotionally charged reminder of the place and it didn’t really belong to me anyway; it was part of the Café and besides, it would have looked out of place here in the flat which was more like a modern loft apartment.

  ‘I haven’t seen Jemma much,’ Jay carried on, ‘I did ask her the first week you’d gone and she said she’d think about it, but she hasn’t been in touch since.’

  ‘Well, I hope she makes up her mind soon,’ I told him. ‘That long back wall would be perfect for you and they could quite easily extend the Café tables if they can’t find anyone to take over the crafting.’

  I couldn’t understand why they hadn’t just got on with it already. It wouldn’t take much effort to switch things around.

  ‘How did you get on with the bank?’ I asked, suddenly remembering Jay’s loan appointment. ‘Are you finally up and running?’

  ‘They said no,’ he murmured, pouring the last dregs of Prosecco into my glass. ‘They turned me down.’

  ‘But why?’ I gaped. ‘I thought it was a done deal.’

  ‘So did I,’ Jay said sadly. ‘So no, it’s still not happening, I’m afraid.’

  I was sorry Jay hadn’t got his money and his dream. Part of me still felt responsible for dashing his hopes.

  ‘Would it be any help while you’re waiting for Jemma to make up her mind, if I asked Deborah to offer you some wall space downstairs?’ I suggested. ‘I’m sure we could move things around so you could display at least four or five and then when I take over you could have more.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Jay frowned, rubbing his chin.

  ‘It would be better than nothing,’ I told him, ‘Londoners are always prepared to pay a premium and I’m sure you’d get a really good take-up rate,’ I continued, warming to my theme. ‘The Café is bound to attract the sort of people who would
be interested in what you have to offer. Come on, let’s go down now and have a look.’

  The wall opposite the counter was the perfect spot for Jay’s frames and there was even some room in the Café area.

  ‘You know, I might take you up on this idea,’ Jay said, scanning the potential spot I was suggesting. ‘Even if people are just popping in for a minute, they’ll still see them up there, won’t they?’

  ‘Exactly,’ I smiled, leaning against the counter, ‘and you could have some cards or leaflets made up and we can give them out to anyone who enquires. It’s definitely worth considering, don’t you think?’

  ‘If I can find the money to make up some samples then I’ll definitely take you up on it,’ he replied.

  Gently he slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me to him. I swallowed. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked him to visit but as he tucked a stray curl behind my ear and bent to kiss me, his lips brushing mine so softly that I felt my knees buckle, I knew it was now.

  Sleeping late on a Sunday was one luxury I had really come to appreciate over the last couple of weekends and that morning was no exception. I stretched in the bed, my memories of the night before still a hazy blur but I knew, as I felt my bare skin touching the sheets, that last night I had definitely gone further with Jay than I had during my cider-soaked encounter.

  I reached out to draw him close but my grasp met only a cold bed sheet and my head was immediately filled with a terrible sense of foreboding. The last time I’d been in bed with a man and awoken to find his side of the mattress empty, things had not ended well for me.

  I slipped into my dressing gown and after exploring the flat to make sure Jay hadn’t deserted me completely I realised he must have gone back downstairs to look at the space I’d suggested for displaying his frames.

  ‘Jay?’ I whispered, as I entered the Café.

  He wasn’t there and neither were the keys to the office. I crept behind the counter as quietly as I could, the fact that I had gone into stealth mode already telling me that whatever he was up to, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. I could see he was in the office because the door was slightly ajar. On the desk in front of him along with the now empty petty cash tin, I could make out the Crafting Café accounts and a pile of bank statements.