Summer at The Cosy Cottage Cafe: A feel good second-chance romance

by Rachel Griffiths

  “In all fairness, Allie, he’d had a few drinks.”

  “He’d have regretted it if the results had been permanent. Thankfully, it went down.”

  She prodded her own face tender face and winced.

  “Get the ice on it and give it time to work.”

  “I’m not going if it doesn’t.”

  “You can always wear a scarf.” Camilla suggested.

  “What all night?” Allie had images of speaking to Chris from behind her silk scarf printed with tiny cupcakes. “How will I eat and drink?”

  “You’ll manage.” Camilla flashed her a guilty smile.

  “If this doesn’t go down, I will hold you personally responsible.”

  Camilla grabbed her hand. “Come and have a glass of wine and you’ll feel better about it.”

  “I doubt that but it certainly can’t get any worse.”

  ***

  An hour later, Allie was ready. Well, almost. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and surveyed her makeover.

  “In all fairness, Jenny, you have worked miracles.”

  Jenny sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her endless legs. “A job well done, I believe.”

  “You’re gorgeous. Chris’ll be all over you.”

  Allie scowled at her friend.

  “Camilla, I do not want him to be all over me. Besides, although the swelling has gone down now, my lip is still very sore.”

  Allie turned back to the mirror. Her skinny black jeans went well with the sheer grey thigh-length blouse Mandy had bought her for Christmas. Allie had never worn it; not wanting to ruin it after seeing the price tag her daughter had accidentally-on-purpose left attached. But tonight, seemed like a good time to give the blouse an airing. Underneath, she wore the matching grey camisole that clung to her curves and reached just below the hem of the blouse. The layering seemed to help disguise some of her lumps and bumps. She had teamed her outfit with a pair of silver-grey pumps.

  Jenny had done her makeup as natural looking as possible, except for smoky eyes that really brought out their blue, and her hair was now a shiny golden mane. When Jenny was cutting it, Allie had thought she was taking lots off, but in reality, she’d merely trimmed the ends and given it some layers. The colour made it appear gently sun kissed and made her think of beaches with palm trees and soft white sand.

  “Thank you so much, Jenny.”

  “My pleasure, Allie. Don’t leave it so long next time though. You’re an attractive woman and you should pamper yourself.”

  Camilla let Jenny out then returned to the bedroom, where Allie had now slumped onto the edge of the bed.

  “Hey what is it?”

  Allie shook her head, unable to speak as Camilla wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s just… you doing that for me. It’s so kind.”

  “You’re one of my best friends. Of course I’d do that for you. I’d do anything for you.”

  “Thank you.” Allie smiled as Camilla squeezed her. “You know, some days I can’t believe this is me. That this is my life.”

  “Why, sweetie?”

  Allie met Camilla’s bright green eyes.

  “Well, I was married with two children. I thought I knew where my life was heading until six years ago.”

  “Things can change very quickly. None of us know what will happen in an hour let alone in six years.”

  “I know. Losing Roger so suddenly was such a shock.”

  “Of course it was.”

  “I thought he’d always be around.”

  Camilla nodded. “You were together a long time. And now, here’s Chris, back on the scene. But from what you told us the other day, he could have been in Roger’s place.”

  “Perhaps. But it never got that far between us. I mean, a few kisses hardly qualify as a promise of eternal commitment do they?” Allie had told her friends about the way she’d been close to Roger and Chris growing up, and that at one point, it had seemed like she was closer to Chris. But in the end, life had taken an unexpected turn, and she’d ended up as Mrs Jones, not Mrs Monroe. Then Roger’s quirks had become exaggerated as he’d grown older and more disappointed with life and other people, and things that had initially drawn Allie to him were no longer so endearing.

  “Maybe it meant more to him than you know.” Camilla stood up and took Allie’s hands then pulled her up.

  “Maybe. But I don’t think so.”

  “Well now you have the chance to find out, right?”

  Allie gave a brief smile then opened her wardrobe to locate her small black handbag.

  “I guess I do.”

  But after everything that had happened, she couldn’t help wondering if she even wanted to know, and if it would be too painful raking up the past.

  Chapter 4

  Allie gave Camilla a quick hug then opened the car door. She could have walked the five minutes to the pub but Camilla had been worried the breeze would mess up Allie’s hair and insisted on driving her.

  “Have fun, won’t you?” Camilla leaned over and squeezed Allie’s hand.

  “I hope so. I’m really nervous now.”

  “Don’t be. There’s nothing to worry about. But be careful.”

  “Careful? I’ve known this man most of my life. He’s hardly got serial killer potential.”

  Camilla laughed. “I didn't mean that kind of careful but you never know someone inside out. So just take care.”

  “I will.”

  “Oh!” Camilla rummaged in her pocket. “Before you go, I have something for you.”

  “You do?” Allie frowned.

  “This…” Camilla held out a small square foil packet.

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh come on, Allie, don’t tell me you’ve never seen one before.”

  “A condom?” Allie’s cheeks burned. “I don’t need that. I won’t be getting up to anything that requires protection tonight.”

  “Humour me. If you don’t take it and the moment arises, you’ll be disappointed you didn’t. Especially if he’s not carrying any.”

  Allie stared at the offending square of foil and thought about what it meant if she accepted it. But what if she didn’t and Camilla was right? She shook her head. There was no way she was sleeping with Chris, gorgeous as he might be. She hadn’t slept with a man since Roger – or before for that matter – and couldn’t quite imagine that kind of intimacy after so long. Yes, people on movies said it was like riding a bike and that you never forgot, but perhaps you did. Perhaps, for this woman on the brink of middle age, sex was a thing of the past.

  “Hey Mum.”

  “Shit, it’s Jordan!”

  Camilla snorted then threw the condom at Allie. It landed on her lap just as he stuck his head around the car door, so she quickly stuffed it into her bag.

  “Hi, love. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Just popping home for a shower then I’m off to see Max.”

  “Oh right?” Allie willed the heat to recede from her cheeks but she was worried that he’d seen the condom. “What’re you two going to be doing this evening then?” She’d been so flustered earlier with worrying about meeting up with Chris, that she couldn’t remember if Jordan had already told her. During her makeover, he’d been out on his bike, and he hadn’t returned before she left.

  “Oh, we, um… we’re going to be gaming.” Was it her imagination or had Jordan’s cheeks darkened? But perhaps she was projecting her own discomfort onto her son.

  Pull yourself together…

  Jordan pushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead and frowned.

  “You look really nice, Mum.”

  “Do I?” Allie sank into her seat.

  “Why are you all dressed up?”

  “We’re off to the pub.” Camilla nodded. “Girls’ night out.”

  “Right. Well have fun. I’ll see you later.” Jordan tapped the car roof then cycled away.

  “Camilla.” Alli
e grimaced. “He could have seen that.”

  “I take it you didn’t tell him about your date then?”

  “It’s not a date—”

  Camilla held up a hand. “Whatever. But if it’s not, why didn't you tell him you were meeting Chris?”

  “I just don’t want to worry him. He’s been through a lot, you know?”

  “We all lose loved ones, Allie. I know Jordan lost his dad but he is all grown up now. You can’t protect him from everything forever and surely it’s better to be honest. This is hardly a big village and he’ll soon hear about your da… evening out with Chris from someone.”

  “I’ll tell him later. That I met up with Chris for a meal just to catch up on old times.”

  “Probably best to be honest with him.”

  “Right, I’m off.”

  “Text me later. Unless you’re… you know, busy. And if that happens, don’t video call me whatever you do.” Camilla giggled and Allie shut the car door with a bit more force than was necessary.

  Then she hooked her bag over her shoulder, crossed the road and entered the small garden of The Red Fox. Her heart was pounding, her palms were clammy and her stomach was full of butterflies.

  But in spite of all this, she was also a teeny bit excited.

  ***

  When Allie entered the pub, the aroma of beer and chips greeted her and her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t felt hungry all day, but she now realised she needed to eat something.

  She scanned the room and spotted Chris at a table in the corner. He raised his pint in greeting.

  Damn he looks good.

  She tried to push the thought away but it lingered as she took in his salt-and-pepper hair and freshly shaven face. As she approached him, the warmth in his dark eyes made her skin tingle, and when she leaned in to kiss his cheek, her legs weakened at his delicious spicy scent.

  “Allie, you look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

  He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled adorably. The plain black jumper he wore with grey jeans and black boots suggested self-confidence; he didn’t feel the need to overdress. She wondered if he’d fretted about what to wear this evening then squashed the idea. Of course he hadn’t, he probably hadn’t given it any thought at all.

  “Well thank you. You know,” he said as he pulled out a chair for her, “I was actually quite nervous. I had no idea what to put on. I didn’t want to look like I hadn’t tried yet I didn’t want to look like I’d tried too hard.”

  Allie coughed. Her mouth and throat had dried up. “No way!”

  “Yes, way.”

  She coughed again. Damn her throat was dry.

  “Let me get you a drink. I didn’t order you one because I wasn’t sure what you like these days.”

  “Pinot Grigio, please.”

  She hung her bag on the back of her chair and looked around. There were a few regulars and a few unfamiliar faces but The Red Fox offered a delicious menu and cosy atmosphere, so she wasn’t surprised to see people she didn’t know. Chris had chosen a good table; fairly private and far enough from the bar to avoid being jostled by people carrying trays of drinks.

  He returned with a large glass of white and handed it to Allie.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She took a sip of the wine, enjoying the delicate peach fragrance and crisp finish, then placed the glass on the table. She noticed that Chris hadn’t bought himself another drink but he still had half a pint left. So he was taking his time, as she intended doing. She’d prefer to stay relatively sober and in control because she didn’t know how she’d react to being with him again if alcohol lowered her emotional defences. Although being around him made a defiant part of her feel as if she wouldn’t mind losing control, just for once.

  “Shall we check the menu?” he asked.

  “Yes, please. I’m quite hungry, actually, so I wouldn’t mind eating soon.”

  Allie took the menu he proffered and opened it. But the small black print was blurry and even when she squinted, she couldn’t decipher it. She peered over the top of the menu at Chris and he seemed to be reading his with no trouble at all. She couldn’t remember him wearing glasses when they were younger but then didn’t most people need them at some stage? The optician had told her that it was common to need glasses for reading once you hit forty.

  Chris caught her watching him. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Uh… no. I can’t see without my glasses these days.”

  “Thank goodness for that!” He laughed. “Me neither but I didn’t want to put mine on. Vanity, eh?”

  “After three?” She swung her bag around and unzipped it.

  “I will if you will.”

  He pulled a small case from the pocket of the suede jacket that hung on the back of his chair, then opened it and held out a pair of square dark-rimmed glasses. “With writing, there’s no way I can cope without these. I try not to wear them but it’s a losing battle. I might only be forty-four but things start to slide.”

  Allie rummaged in her tiny bag. When her fingers found her glasses case, she tugged at it, but it was lodged beneath her purse. She tugged again and it loosened and shot out, but as it did, a shiny square of foil came flying out too. Allie watched in horror as it soared through the air then landed in Chris’s pint.

  He stared at his glass.

  Allie stared at his glass.

  Then they both started to laugh.

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

  His face had turned red and he held his stomach as if it hurt. Allie grew hot all over as mortification mingled with amusement.

  Bloody Camilla!

  “Well,” Chris said, when he finally caught his breath, “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

  “Blame my friend, Camilla. She forced it on me in the car earlier and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She took hold of his glass and fished out the condom then dried it with a napkin and stuffed it back in her bag.

  “I have to admit, I’m disappointed now. I thought my luck was in.”

  Allie shook her head and removed her glasses from the case then put them on.

  “I’m not that kind of girl.”

  He put his glasses on then gazed at her from behind the lenses, his dark eyes twinkling. “No you’re not, Allie. You’re a woman now.”

  Allie raised her menu to hide her face.

  What was happening here? What was this strange sensation coursing through her body, making her feel so vibrant and alive?

  Whatever it was, she liked it.

  ***

  An hour and a half later, Allie was thoroughly relaxed. She sat back in her chair and fingered the stem of her wine glass. She’d enjoyed her dinner of vegetarian lasagne and chunky beer-battered chips and was waiting for dessert to arrive. Chris was good company and he made her laugh as he told her stories about people he’d met over the years and about his experience with an overly zealous fan. The woman had followed him everywhere for six months, attending every book signing and reading, before finally deserting him for the next bestseller, a reality TV celebrity who had his autobiography published at twenty-two.

  “So you’ve done well with your books then?”

  “I’m no Stephen King but I do all right. My books are a kind of hybrid genre of thriller and horror.”

  “Are you with just one publisher?”

  “Tied in for the next three books because of a rather generous advance but who knows then? This business is a rollercoaster. One day you’re number one, the next…” He shrugged. “It’s not for the faint-hearted, that’s for sure.”

  “Have you met lots of famous people?” Allie asked, thinking about her own sheltered existence within the confines of Heatherlea. Yes, she’d had holidays and headed to London for the odd show or night out with the girls, but apart from that, she was either in the café or in bed alone. It didn’t bother her at all normally, but she realised that her life probably see
med a bit sheltered and possibly even boring to Chris.

  “Some. At book signings and events like the London Book Fair. But at the end of the day, celebs are just people like you and me.”

  Allie watched as he took a sip of his second pint. His full lips were still so kissable and with his movie star looks, he probably fitted in around beautiful people with ease.

  “What about you though, Allie? I noticed how you’ve deflected my questions so far tonight. Very cleverly but you’ve done it all the same. What’s life been like for you?”

  “Oh…” Allie swallowed hard. “There’s not much to tell.”

  Chris leaned forwards and covered her hand with his. His skin was warm and smooth and goosebumps rose on Allie’s arms. She met his gaze and her mind went blank.

  “Allie, you’ve been through a hell of a lot. Don’t underestimate that. You lost your husband and brought your kids up alone. I know they’re older but you still had to be there for them. You renovated an old cottage and turned it into a successful business. I know I haven’t been around but I heard how you were doing from my mother. She said you coped admirably with it all.”

  “She did?” Allie fought back her surprise. All she’d ever known of Mrs Monroe was as an acid-tongued woman who never seemed to have a good word to say about anyone.

  “She did. Mum always told me good things about you, although the rest of the village didn’t enjoy such leniency. She said you did yourself proud and encouraged me to come back and see how you were doing. On more than one occasion.”

  Allie sipped her wine.

  “That’s not exactly how she came across.” She thought of the woman who’d cast icy stares across the post office and been painfully blunt when she’d come into the café.

  “My mother was a harsh old bat at times, I know.” He sighed.

  “Chris, are you okay?”

  “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I mean, I didn’t come back all that often but I knew she was here. Harsh as she could be, she was still my mum.”