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

by Rachel Griffiths

  “It wasn’t our place to be quite that blunt. Although, we did try to encourage you not to rush into marriage but you were so set on it. And you had to make your own decisions.”

  “I just wanted to do the right thing. After I got pregnant and let you down by not becoming the amazing chef I’d said I would become, I didn’t want to let you down again. And you and dad have always been so happy. I thought Roger and I could have that too. Roger seemed like the right choice.”

  “Because he had prospects?”

  “He did. He was so handsome and determined and he was the father of my child. I just didn’t know that his determination and career drive was due to his desire for perfection in everything.”

  “And none of us are perfect, Allie. Not me, nor your father, nor our relationship. Every marriage has ups and downs.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. But if you’re with the right person for you, then you weather the storms together. However, if someone makes you feel that you’re lacking in some way, then they are wrong for you. Now though… Chris is back and you want him, don’t you?”

  Allie nodded.

  “I’m afraid though. That what I’m feeling is just because we’re old friends. And because he’s… well, Mum, he’s gorgeous.”

  “Take some advice from me, sweetheart. Life is short; time is precious. If you and Chris got together and tried each other on for size, who would lose out?”

  Allie took a deep breath then released it slowly.

  “No one, I guess.”

  “But if you don’t try to see where this could go… who misses out?”

  “I get your point.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  Allie sat at the table, deep in thought, as her mother pottered about preparing dinner. She’d tried to help but her mother had muttered something about too many cooks and insisted that she sat down and relaxed. She mulled over the idea of a possible relationship, or even just a fling with Chris, and both seemed scary, risky. But even scarier was the prospect of him leaving and never having the chance to see if there was still something between them.

  An hour later, Allie sat at the table with her parents. As her mother ladled chicken soup into bowls, Allie’s mouth watered at the delicious aroma.

  “Help yourself.” Her mother gestured at a pile of shiny brown pretzels on a side plate.

  “Thank you.”

  “Well, you’ve done it again, Connie.” Allie’s father smiled at his wife. “Delicious.”

  “Allie takes after me, don’t you darling?” Her mother sprinkled pepper over her soup. “That’s why the café has been so successful.”

  “I certainly inherited my cookery skills from one of you and I don’t think it was Dad.” Allie winked at her father to show she was teasing.

  “I’ll have you know that I make a mean chilli.” Her father held out his hands. “I’m just better with the ironing.”

  “That’s true. He can press creases into trousers that I could only dream of achieving.” Her mother gently touched his cheek.

  “You two! You’re still so in love.”

  Her parents nodded simultaneously.

  “Has she told you yet, Bruce?”

  Her father raised his eyebrows in question. “There’s news?”

  “Chris Monroe is back in Heatherlea and they’ve been spending some time together.”

  “And how’s that going, Allie?” Her father’s keen blue eyes fixed on her and she realised what her mother had just done; she was making it impossible for Allie to leave without committing to something regarding Chris. There was no way Allie could lie, or even twist the truth, while under the scrutiny of her retired lawyer father. He could spot a fib or an evasion at twenty paces.

  “It’s going okay, I guess.”

  “Now come on, tell him what you told me, Allie.”

  She repeated the details she’d relayed to her mother earlier, and her father listened carefully.

  “I see.” He dipped a pretzel into his soup then chewed it thoughtfully.

  “Bruce, I think it’s time to tell her.”

  Her father inclined his head. “Allie, we never told you this before because we didn’t think there was much point. You made your choice and married Roger and gave us two lovely grandchildren. Mandy rang last night by the way and is full of the joys of her job. Lovely to hear her enthusiasm. Anyway, at your wedding reception, while you were busy with Roger attending to your guests, I went out for a cigar.” He took another bite of pretzel.

  Allie nodded. Her father had given up cigars, as far as she knew, following a bit of a health scare about three years earlier, but she remembered him smoking throughout her childhood and teenage years. The aroma had been almost comforting, something akin to rich loamy soil or a sawmill in the rain, and was one she always associated with him. But she’d been glad when he’d quit because she’d worried about the dangers of smoking.

  “Outside the hotel,” her father continued, “I found Chris perched on the edge of the stone fountain. And he was in a right old state.”

  “What was wrong?” Allie’s stomach clenched at the thought of him being upset.

  “At first, he wouldn’t tell me. But after a while, the floodgates just opened. He was very drunk or I don’t think he’d have told me at all.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he was in love with you and that at one point he thought you would get together but something happened and it broke his heart.”

  “Wow.” She stared at her soup, her appetite fading.

  “I know he was young. You all were. But he loved you, Allie. And you know we liked Roger but Chris just seemed… more suitable for you. Now I’m not one to judge the romantic decisions of others, and I’ve been very lucky to have your mother, but I think you might have ended up with the wrong man.”

  Allie stared at her father and felt her mouth drop slowly open.

  “Allie!” He held up his hands so his palms were facing her. “Don’t look at me like that. You and Roger had fabulous kids and a long time together but we know something went wrong towards the… end.”

  “We could tell it wasn’t working between you, darling,” her mother added.

  “How? I barely admitted it to myself until afterwards.” She’d never told her parents everything but now they were telling her they had suspicions. Not voicing the truth about Roger’s idealism or his final moments had been a way of keeping it from becoming a painful reality. Or so she’d hoped. But the truth had a way of outing itself.

  “Chris really loved you. I don’t know how he feels now, Allie, but I’m sure he will always be a good friend. Possibly more if you rekindle that old spark. Who knows? At least you’re both older and wiser, eh?” Her father squeezed her fingers. She gazed at the white hairs on his knuckles and the slight swelling of his joints. Her parents were getting older; she couldn’t deny that and they wouldn’t always be around. They were good people and like any loving parents, they just wanted to see her happy. Her life was good now; she had the café to focus on, and her children – although they had their own lives and so they should. She knew they’d always love her but they were adults and didn’t need her as much as they once had.

  It was time now to think about herself and what she wanted. She was entitled to have a fulfilling life of her own too. But did she need a man for that?

  No.

  Not just any man.

  But it was possible that she needed Chris. That she had always needed him.

  She covered her mouth and took a shaky breath.

  “Allie, do you want to tell us what happened with Roger?” Her mother tilted her head to one side, inviting her to confide in her calm, reassuring way.

  “I guess so.”

  “We love you and are here to support you, whatever you tell us. And we won’t be judging anyone. Goodness knows we’ve been around long enough to know that most people have flaws.”

  Allie steeled herself.<
br />
  It was time to say the words she’d kept inside for so long.

  ***

  In the café the next morning, Allie felt dazed. She went through the motions of making coffee and serving breakfasts then brunches then lunchtime orders, but it was all done on autopilot. Telling her parents about Roger had been difficult but cathartic. It was as if saying it out loud had made it real and when she’d finished she’d broken down, realising that she’d actually been ashamed about what had happened and blamed herself.

  Hearing about Chris’s drunken confession had also knocked her sideways. She was so fond of him, and knowing how much he’d been hurting all those years ago made her own heart ache. Why hadn’t he said anything? Had he tried but she’d been too caught up in the dominant whirlwind that was Roger to listen?

  “Penny for them.”

  She jumped and sloshed coffee over the counter.

  “Sorry, I seem to have developed a habit of startling you.” Chris smiled at her, holding her captive with his dark brown eyes. She had an urge to throw herself into his arms and apologise for the pain he’d felt at her wedding. For the pain he’d felt when she’d chosen Roger.

  “I was miles away.” Allie felt the familiar heat creeping into her cheeks that his presence conjured. She wiped the coffee up then cleaned the bottom of the mug, silently thanking the patron saint of cafés that she hadn’t spilt much. It had probably been too full anyway because she’d been so distracted. “I just need to take these over to that couple.”

  “Of course.”

  As she passed him, she noticed that he held a carrier bag in one hand and it looked heavy. She gave her customers their drinks then turned back to Chris.

  “Take a seat.” She gestured at the table nearest the counter. “Can I get you anything?”

  “A cold drink would be nice. I’ve been sorting through everything in Mum’s room and it was quite dusty under the bed.”

  Allie fetched two glasses of lemonade then joined him at the small square table for two.

  “What did you find?” She had wanted to help him with clearing the rest of the cottage but she couldn’t be there every day as she had the café to run. Jordan had watched it for a few hours when she’d gone to see her parents but she didn’t like to leave him alone for too long, though what she thought might happen in her absence, she wasn’t quite sure. She worried about a blockage in the coffee machine perhaps or a power cut though they were both things that would cause her problems too, and she suspected that laid-back Jordan would be far calmer in a crisis than she would be.

  Chris lifted the carrier bag onto his lap then pulled out a pile of books.

  “Are they yours?”

  He nodded. “All six of them are the same thriller.”

  “She had six copies of the same book?”

  He shook his head. “They’re in different languages. Translated versions.”

  “She was very proud of you.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed furiously.

  “I… I always sent her copies of my novels but not foreign editions. There’s not much point having those unless you speak Italian, Spanish and so on. But she must have ordered them from somewhere.”

  “How many books did you find altogether?”

  He sighed. “Too many to count and I banged my head after pulling these out so I couldn’t face carrying on.”

  “I could come and help you later, or tomorrow, if you like.”

  His eyes flickered. “That would’ve been great but I have to catch the train to London this evening and I’ll be gone until the weekend.”

  “Oh.” Allie’s stomach dropped to the floor.

  “I will be back. I just have a few things to sort out at my apartment and with my solicitor.”

  “Okay.” Allie plastered on her brightest smile, determined not to make him feel guilty. “Well if you need anymore help, you know where I am.”

  “Thank you.” He moved his hand closer to hers and gently stroked her thumb. “I know I came back for sad reasons but seeing you again has been amazing.”

  Allie tried to swallow but there was a painful lump in her throat. Trying to fight how she felt about this man was proving to be a struggle, and finding out what she had yesterday had only made it harder. She’d cared about Chris so much but made a choice all those years ago because she’d thought she knew what she was doing. Roger had seemed to need her more than Chris did. She had also believed, at one point, that Roger loved her. She hadn’t thought Chris felt that way about her, hadn’t thought he could see her like that.

  She’d been wrong.

  But here he was, a forty-four-year-old man, with a successful career and a busy life. Time had moved on, and as much as there might be residual feelings between them, surely there was no chance of anything happening? So she needed to get a grip, and showing him that she was his friend would be the best way she could think of to achieve that.

  “If you are back on Saturday, there’ll be a party. It’s a tradition I started when I opened the café, kind of a summer celebration.”

  “Sounds great. What time?”

  “From about seven.”

  “I’ll do my best to be here.”

  “Now what else have you got in that bag?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Embarrassing newspaper clippings.”

  “Come on then, let’s have a look.”

  “All right but no laughing. I’m just not photogenic at all.”

  He spread the clippings on the table and they went through them together, laughing and joking in the comfortable way they used to do. And Allie was warmed inside, because even if there was nothing romantic blossoming here, then at least she was getting reacquainted with an old and very dear friend.

  Chapter 8

  The rest of the week dragged for Allie, in spite of her efforts to keep busy. It was as if there was something missing from the village, and even though she told herself it was silly and self-indulgent, she couldn’t shake the fresh sense of loneliness.

  The day Chris left, she’d had her usual Tuesday evening with the girls and they’d soon worked out that something wasn’t quite right with her. It had led to reassurances and wine, and by the end of the evening, she’d been smiling again. But it was hard to get him off her mind and part of her worried that he might not return, that being back in London would remind him of why he’d decided to leave Heatherlea in the first place. That being her and the fact that she had broken his heart.

  Thankfully, Friday was a mad blur of getting everything ready for the party, as Allie confirmed that the local band were able to play, and that everyone who’d replied to the email would be bringing the food they’d selected from the list.

  Saturday morning, Allie was up and about early. Jordan ran things out front in the café, while Allie baked and stirred, chopped and whisked, huffed and puffed.

  The August morning was warm and dry, the air sweet and fragrant with the scents of the flowers in her garden. Allie had to wear sunglasses to set up the tables outside because it was so bright, and when she removed the covering from the barbeque, she felt a flip of anticipation in her belly. She loved this time of year and had always celebrated summer with her children, wanting them to appreciate the longer days and to enjoy being outdoors. Life was for living and summer was perfect for making the most of time with family and friends.

  They shut up the café at three o’clock, then Allie finished off in the kitchen and checked her list one last time.

  She had no idea what time Chris was due back. He’d sent her a text the previous evening just to say hello and to ask what she was doing, but although he’d said he was looking forward to seeing her again, he hadn’t said what time he’d return. And she hadn’t liked to ask.

  Allie had enough time to shower and dress before people started arriving. She hoped Chris would turn up, but if he didn’t, then so be it. She had a life to live and she intended to get on with it.

  ***

  Allie strolled around the front lawn of the
café, greeting friends and acquaintances, and encouraging them to help themselves to drinks. Jordan had helped her to set up trestle tables on the flat lawn at the one side of the path. There was a table for soft drinks, one for alcoholic beverages – which was manned by the vicar, who kept a watchful eye on the youngsters to ensure that none of them tried their luck – and one for food contributions.

  The first year Allie had held a party like this, she’d done all the catering herself, but over the years, others had brought their own offerings and it was a relief, as it meant Allie didn’t have to make quite as much. It was also lovely to enjoy the wonderful variety of food, such as this year’s savoury delights including herb, feta and courgette risotto, chicken and ham pies, minted melon and prosciutto salad, stuffed wild mushrooms, lemon sunflower pesto pasta and olive and rosemary bread.

  The desserts on offer this year were coconut panna cotta with strawberry gel, swirled meringues with blueberry sauce, orange and ginger ricotta tart and raspberry mojito cupcakes. Everything looked delicious and in spite of her apprehension that Chris might not make an appearance, Allie felt a flicker of hunger as she eyed the feast before her.

  The local band set up in the corner of the garden close to the café, so that they had access to power cables. Jordan had laced fairy lights between the branches of the trees and looped them around the shutters on the café windows for when the afternoon light faded. The braziers were also ready to be lit and every table had a colourful glass tealight holder at the centre, which held a citronella candle to keep the bugs at bay.

  Camilla appeared at Allie’s side, wearing a white cotton maxi-dress printed with tiny rosebuds. Her black hair was freshly cut, her eyes were lined with black kohl and her lips painted a glossy red to match her nails. Allie noticed, as she always did, how stunning her friend actually was. Camilla pressed a glass of mimosa into Allie’s hand.

  “Here. This’ll help you relax.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How’re you feeling?”