Stirred with Love

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Stirred with Love Page 27

by Steele, Marcie


  Kate, I want you to know that I have seen a confident woman appear over the past few months and she is a wonderful person. You accepted a challenge and you have helped to make The Coffee Stop such a huge success. I’m very grateful for your help and support, even through your heartache. True love and happiness will find you again. Maybe even with a certain Mr Taylor?

  Chloe, I know you will be hurting. You’re bound to be after coping with your mother’s death at such an early age, the memories are sure to come flooding back. I only hope it isn’t too painful. Forgive me if it is.

  Keep up the studying and don’t you worry about Jack. He can’t be right for you if he can hurt you like that. Life’s too short, Chloe. Find yourself a young man and live a little first. And if it doesn’t work out, you always have the luxury of tomorrow.

  Now, first things first. Before the funeral, I want you two to concentrate on getting into the Christmas spirit. I know you won’t feel like looking forward to the New Year but it’ll help take your mind off things. And don’t be afraid to look in the bottom of my wardrobe. I’m sure you’ll find that Santa has come early to the coffee shop.

  Just a finishing note to tell you that my solicitor, Mr Stead, will be expecting your call. It will only be an informal meeting, there’s nothing for you to worry about.

  Take care for now. I will always be close, even though you can’t see me. Just pretend I am in the next room, watching over you.

  Please don’t grieve for me because part of me will always be there with you. We had a special bond, in such a short time. I love you like you were my own daughters.

  Thank you for making me happy.

  God bless,

  Lily

  Kate walked the few streets to the park in a daze, praying that she wouldn’t bump into anyone she knew. She’d brought along Rosie for comfort but the dog wanted to play. The park almost deserted, she let her off the lead. It was only three o’ clock in the afternoon, but already the dark was starting to obscure her view.

  At the entrance to the play area, she pulled her collar close for further protection against the bitter cold wind and sat down on a swing. She swayed to and fro, the cold wind swirling around her, as she thought of Lily.

  It had still been such a shock when she’d died. Kate had been sitting with Chloe at the side of the bed. Irene and Alf had been there too. It had been surreal, waiting for that last, closing breath. Lily would gasp for air and there would be nothing for what seemed like forever. Then, through watery eyes, Kate had watched her attempt to grab life one more time, then another. At eleven thirty-three, Lily had finally found peace.

  It would have been wonderful to have known her longer, Kate thought, remembering how Chloe had fallen into her arms and they’d cried together for a while. Things would be strange without Lily there to watch over them, but Kate knew that no matter what the future held, she and Chloe would stick together. Their family unit would just be one less.

  Would she find true love and happiness with Will, she wondered, smiling through fresh tears as she recalled Lily’s written words. Two nights ago, knowing his Dad would be out, Will had taken her to his family home. They’d sat on the settee, with the glow of the gas fire their only light. It had felt right to slip onto the carpet and make love with the curtains closed to the world. It had been slow, tender and one of the most passionate times she would ever share with him. She’d cried afterwards. For Lily, for their loss, for her pain. As Will had wrapped his arms around her, she’d realised that they might have something special – no one can profess to know what the future holds, but Kate knew once she’d felt that way about Nick and hadn’t appreciated it. This time she wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

  Dragging her foot in the sand as she swayed in the wind, she looked up towards the darkening sky. Kate had trouble believing in the after life, but if there was such a thing she knew they’d be together. Bernard would be with Lily now.

  It was meant to be.

  Had to be, surely?

  Chloe sat huddled in Lily’s favourite armchair, the letter in her lap. Lily was right about what she’d written. Memories of her mum had come flooding back, but those weren’t crowding her mind right now. Chloe was overwhelmed by the loss of Lily.

  She didn’t have to think hard to understand why she had loved her so much. The things that she’d done for her were vast and varied. She’d listened to her endless wittering on about anything and everything, teased her about Kate being more popular with the men after the diva had passed on her tricks of the trade, watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer without complaining.

  She remembered how a cup of tea would go further than an apology, how Lily would always stick up for Kate when she was in the right and try to show her things from a different perspective. Chloe knew she was right about Jack too. In the back of her mind, she’d always known he was too old for her. It had been a tough lesson to learn but she was getting over it now. She was going to slow down and grow old in her own time – Kate said she’d be knocking off years to make herself feel better soon.

  But the main thing that Chloe had become conscious of was that, sometime during the past few months, she had grown up. Her childish tantrums and bitchy comments had slowly disappeared. She’d learned to accept Maddy’s relationship with her dad. She’d made Lucy’s life hell for a while, until she’d realised she’d got her completely wrong, and she’d found a special friendship, an everlasting union of sisterly strength with Kate.

  And, all at once, she realised that she wouldn’t have done any of that without Lily giving her the opportunity to work at the coffee shop.

  Chloe blew her nose loudly. It was going to be so tough without Lily.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  As ‘Do they know it’s Christmas’ played in the background of the coffee shop, Kate held onto her head with a grimace. She felt so rough.

  ‘I can’t believe we drank so much last night,’ she said quietly.

  Chloe winced as the sudden movement of her head caused a pain to shoot through it. ‘I can’t believe I have a hangover. I’m eighteen – this isn’t supposed to happen.’

  Yesterday, after a morning of phone calls to everyone who needed to be informed of Lily’s death, Kate and Chloe spent a reflective afternoon together. Lucy came around at five thirty and Will arrived at seven. Between them they drank lots. Some of them cried, all of them laughed. Lucy finally left at eleven-thirty and Kate slept with Will’s body snuggled around hers. He’d left earlier that morning, promising to return as soon as possible.

  ‘It was good therapy, though.’ Kate clunked the Alka-Seltzer into a glass of water and watched it fizz. Quickly, she knocked it back, banged down the glass and shuddered.

  ‘I still can’t take it in that the coffee shop is ours.’

  ‘I’ve often wondered what the advert meant when it read ‘excellent prospects for the right people.’ What prospects are there working in a small coffee shop? There’s hardly a lot of scope for promotion. It was her plan that she was referring to.’

  ‘But she doesn’t really know us that well. What about leaving everything to Irene? Or Alf, even?’

  ‘Lily wanted her legacy, for want of a better word, to go on, I suppose. I think I admire her for that, too. We know it wasn’t easy for her.’

  Chloe smiled. ‘She really did love us like we were her own daughters, didn’t she?’

  ‘She did. And it means that we don’t have to go our separate ways. I wouldn’t have liked that.’

  ‘Me neither,’ came back Chloe’s immediate answer.

  Kate stood up with a sigh. ‘I need another coffee.’

  Chloe stared out onto Church Square, the square that had just become her permanent home. Only now was it beginning to sink in that she was going to be a partner in a very successful coffee shop. Before her very eyes, she could see another shop, and another. When Kate joined her with fresh drinks, she had moved onto franchises and there were at least fifty shops all over England.

  ‘Do you
fancy coming home with me for Christmas, Kate?’ she asked. ‘You’d be more than welcome. I know it’ll be hard for you to keep up, but you can have a sleep in the afternoons before we go out on the razz.’

  Kate raised her eyebrows in mock horror before grinning. ‘It’s good of you to ask, but I think I might fancy my chances with a certain man I’m fond of.’

  Chloe nodded. She really wanted to share the holiday with Kate, especially after she’d lost Lily, but who was she to spoil her happiness? Kate really deserved it. And she was looking forward to spending some time with her own family. This would be the first Christmas that she and Maddy would feel better about.

  ‘Don’t suppose I mind so much, then,’ she replied as the music changed to Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’. ‘At least one of us needs to let the New Year in with a bang.’ She picked up her drink and raised her cup in a toast. ‘Here’s to you, Lily Mortimer. I know you’re listening, because you’re only in the kitchen.’

  Kate smiled. ‘When she says she’s in the next room, it doesn’t mean the kitchen.’

  ‘It’s the next room at the moment.’

  ‘You’re absolutely right!’ Kate too picked up her mug and raised it in the air. ‘Here’s to Lily…and to us.

  And here’s to The Coffee Stop.’

  The End

  ###

  About the Author

  Marcie Steele can be found hanging around any good coffee shop, drinking copious amounts of coffee and nibbling on double chocolate muffins. Whilst doing this she will discreetly be people watching or not so discreetly enjoying good gossip with her girlfriends. If you see her, do come and say hello…

  Marcie Steele’s second novel, THROUGH WITH MEN, is now available to download.

  To keep up to date with Marcie, you can visit her blog at www.coffee with marcie.blogspot.com

  If you have enjoyed reading STIRRED WITH LOVE, please could I ask for a moment of your time to click the like box on my Amazon page? It would mean so much for me to know. Thank you so much.

  Excerpt from THROUGH WITH MEN, Marcie Steele

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was just sex, meant as a way to release her tension. A way to make her feel loved, wanted, needed for a few minutes of his time. For that was what it actually boiled down to. A few minutes and it had all been over.

  Leah Pellington lifted her head off the pillow, slowly opened one eye and promptly closed it as memories of what she had done again came flooding back.

  ‘Ow! That was my bloody head, you dope,’ she’d cried out as he pushed her against the wall with a thud. His lips were down hard on hers again before she could protest. The passion ignited inside her as his tongue explored her mouth, prodding a little further each time. His hands moved roughly over her breasts and he squeezed, a little too hard, mistaking her cry for a moan.

  ‘I know you want me,’ he whispered into her ear before kissing her neck. ‘Say you want me.’

  ‘I want you,’ Leah slurred, pulling his buttocks nearer still and instantly recognising how much he wanted her.

  He pulled up her skirt and eased himself inside her. Well, heaved himself inside her, more like. With one hand on the wall to steady them, Leah wrapped her legs around his trunk and tried to match his thrusting as best she could. But the more he moved against her, the more she felt light headed. In a desperate panic, she realised that this had nothing to do with passion. It was as if she was going to be….oh, god. Please, not now.

  ‘Stop!’ She pushed him away. ‘I’m going to be…’

  Leah turned onto her side, pushed her blonde hair away from her face and huddled in the foetal position, trying to rid herself of the painful memory. She prayed it was a dream but opening one eye again revealed her worst nightmare. Her clothes were strewn across the bedroom floor. She had moss stains all over her halter necked top, lager stains all down her skirt where she had missed her mouth once too often and ohmigod! She winced. It hadn’t been a dream.

  There was sick all over her shoes.

  She felt a tear trickle down her cheek and onto her nose. She couldn’t even manage a quick fumble without something going wrong. And hadn’t she made a New Year’s resolution only ten days ago not to shag Rob Masters again? She’d never be able to look him in the eye next week, never mind kiss him.

  She’d known Rob since high school and had lost count of the many times they’d hooked up over the years. Sometimes she’d be single, sometimes he’d be single – there had been times every so often when they’d both been single. After every drunken episode she’d be remorseful, be adamant that this would be the last time. But when the slow, lovey-dovey records came on and every other single person had left for home, she and Rob would end up on the dance floor, bodies moulded together with practiced precision, arms entwined around each other, lips locked. It was depressing really, the way they clung to each other.

  Last night had been no exception and once the final dance was over, Rob led her from the floor, out of the fire exit and into the alley behind where they got rough and ready up against that wall.

  Shag buddies, she’d read somewhere in her daughter’s teenage magazine. Charley Pellington was fifteen and the old head of the family, as she often told her mother when Leah wasn’t keen to act her age of thirty four. According to the magazine, a shag buddy is someone who is there for someone else whenever the need arose – or maybe that should be aroused? Leah couldn’t even bring herself to laugh at that last thought.

  All she could remember was the stench of Rob’s breath intermingled with urine from the alley. Mind you, her breath couldn’t have been much better. It had been two fifteen in the early hours of the morning when they’d eventually left the club for a quick grope and poke. She’d lost count of how many lagers and vodka coke combos she’d sunk by that time.

  The night had started out fairly well too. Leah had called in at the local pub to meet her friend, Mark, got chatting to some women she knew and headed off with them to a club around eleven. For a couple of hours, she’d strutted her stuff on the dance floor before having one drink too many and crashing down into an almighty low as everyone around her started to pair off. Leah was slouched into a leather settee, wondering whether to call it a night or head back to the bar, when she spotted Rob Masters walking past. She’d got up as quick as her drunken legs would allow and lunged towards him.

  ‘Hey, Rob.’ She put her arms around his waist and snuggled into his back. ‘Fancy a shag?’

  Rob pulled her to his side, keeping an arm around her neck. ‘What’s up Leah, all alone again?’

  Leah recognised Rob’s friends as his regular crew and waved, following it with a manic smile. ‘Hi guys’. Mind if I borrow your mate for a while?’

  ‘Ah, come on Leah, when are you going to give anyone else a look in?’ Pete Drayton cried. ‘Shagger Masters has had his turn over and over. It’s about time you shared it out a little.’

  ‘What are you insidu – insinua – saying, Drayton?’ Leah tried to slap him but missed completely, nearly landing on the floor as her arm swung out of control. Rob did a gallant job of steadying her, thankfully keeping her upright.

  Suggestively she ran her hand down his jeans, stopped at his thigh and made her way back up, up, up, not stopping until she had found her target. She pressed hard. Rob groaned, his friends laughed. Now, lying alone in her bed, Leah felt the shame wash over her as it always did. She knew what Pete Drayton and the rest of the blokes thought of her. And they were right. Slapper Leah, they called her. It wasn’t a secret; they often said it to her face. But she didn’t care. Not until she sobered up and realised she’d done what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do ever again.

  Loneliness. It all boiled down to loneliness. Leah tried to assuage some of the guilt that she felt. Rob used her. Sure, he was always there for her when she needed him. What bloke in their right mind would turn down sex on a plate? But in the back of her mind, Leah knew she used him too. And it didn’t feel good, no matter how many times she manag
ed to get laid. It wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted someone who would love her in return for all the love she had to give. But when would she ever find someone like that? She felt past her sell by date already. A lonely divorcee who couldn’t get a decent man whatever she tried. And if she ever did manage to find anyone half decent, by that time she’d be too old to enjoy him.

  She moved her legs up further towards her chest. It was then that she felt the sticky patch at the top of her thigh. Oh, god, they must have had sex after she’d thrown up. Humiliation made her cheeks burn as she realised that Rob must have been as drunk as she was if they’d carried on regardless. Right now she knew she’d never be able to look him in the eye again but right now she didn’t care about that.

  Right now she hated herself.

  Sam Wheldon’s body stiffened as a hand moved over her thigh and up towards her breast. His fingers were rough, not to the touch but to the feel. Russ’s hands had become coarser over the years he’d worked away during the week as a brickie. Sighing inwardly, she turned towards her husband and he moved on top of her. A quick peck on the cheek and he was inside her, not even bothering to find out if she was ready. He began to hump away but Sam’s mind had already switched off.

  All she could think of was Dan Wilshaw. The man had made her knees quiver with one smile. And when he’d stopped at the stall to talk to her on Friday morning, she’d been so tongue tied she’d had to resort to a nod, feeling the mortification as her cheeks reddened. Dan noticed too and had flirted with her, making her blush even more.

  She thought back to when she had first seen him. Sam sold fruit and veg at the local indoor market. She’d inherited the business when her dad died when she was eighteen. Dan had called at one of the stalls opposite hers and bought a mobile phone. Surreptitiously, Sam watched him from a distance. He caught her looking a couple of times but she’d been quick to hide behind her own customers. Moments later, he walked across to her stall and bought an apple. Sam was sure it’d had been meant as a symbol. The forbidden fruit; he obviously knew she was married. Well, that and the fact she was wearing a wedding ring.

 

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