A Year at The Cosy Cottage Café_A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, loss, friendship and second chances

by Rachel Griffiths

  Since the summer, Rick had made the effort to be home in time most nights to read to the children. But more recently, he seemed to be getting later and later each night.

  “When will he be home?”

  Dawn smoothed her daughter’s soft hair back from her face. Her heart ached for her children when they missed Rick.

  “He sent me a text to say he’ll be back soon.”

  “When is soon?”

  Dawn sighed. “In about an hour. The trains were delayed.”

  “Again?” Laura scowled. “I hate the train men.”

  “Do you want to read your story to me again?” Dawn asked, hoping to distract her daughter.

  “No, I want to go to sleep now.”

  “Okay then. Goodnight sweetheart.”

  She tucked the covers around Laura then got up and crossed the room, switching off the light at the doorway.

  “Night Mummy. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Dawn turned away, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. Damn Rick and his delayed trains. No, damn the delayed trains. It wasn’t Rick’s fault, she was sure of it. He was trying to provide for his family and she knew he couldn’t rush out of the office before his colleagues. The world of investment banking that he worked in was a tough one and she knew that competition amongst employees was fierce.

  But she did wish that he could try a bit harder to get home before nine, at least a few times a week. Surely that wouldn’t be too much to ask?

  “Rick? What was that noise?”

  Dawn reached out to pat her husband but his side of the bed was empty.

  “Rick?”

  Her heart raced as she tried to fight the sleep fog.

  There it was again. A clinking sound coming from downstairs. She’d have to go and investigate, as it seemed that she was alone with the children. Rick hadn’t come home by ten and she was exhausted, so she’d gone up to bed, telling herself she’d read until he returned but she must have fallen asleep as soon as she lay down.

  She pulled her dressing gown over her pyjamas then scanned the room, hoping to find a weapon. The only thing she could see was a coat hanger dangling over the door handle, so she grabbed it.

  “Ready or not… death by Debenhams size 12-14 hanger.”

  She padded down the stairs, her bare feet sinking into the plush fibres of the carpet, and made her way across the hallway and through to the kitchen and the source of the noise.

  She raised the coat hanger above her head and took a deep breath, ready to scream if need be, then launched herself into the kitchen.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” she screeched, as she spotted the intruder in front of the fridge with the door open and his back to her.

  “Wha…” He turned around and as he did, she realised that it was Rick.

  “Shit, Rick, you scared the hell out of me.”

  Her heart thudded and nausea flooded through her, filling her mouth with saliva and bringing her hand automatically to her mouth.

  “Who were you expecting?”

  She lowered her hand slowly. “I thought we’d had a break-in.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be daft. In this neighbourhood?”

  In the blue light from the fridge, his lean physique was shown to advantage in his expensive shirt and suit trousers. His jacket had been slung onto the kitchen island, as if he’d been in a rush to get something to eat.

  “It could happen,” she replied, feeling foolish at her sleep-fuddled reaction, then turned the light on.

  “Hopefully not.”

  He closed the fridge then opened his arms.

  “Anyway, how’s my beautiful wife?”

  “Tired. Sleepy. Recovering from the fright of thinking we had an intruder.”

  “Got a hug for me?”

  She nodded then walked into his embrace.

  As he wrapped his arms around her, she sighed against his chest. She loved him so much but sometimes he irritated the hell out of her. Yes, she was pregnant and her hormones were all over the place, but that didn’t mean that she was an idiot. Not that Rick was suggesting that she was, but she felt that way when he came over all cool-headed and in control.

  “Sorry I’m late. Between trying to get out of the office and the train being delayed again, I thought I’d never get home.”

  “The children missed you.”

  “It’s the weekend now, though. I’ll make it up to you all.”

  He squeezed her tight.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “There’s lasagne in the fridge.”

  “You are the best wife, you know that?”

  She slipped out of his arms and set about warming him some food.

  When she placed his dinner and a large glass of red wine on the oak dining table in front of him, he caught her hand and kissed it.

  “Sit with me?”

  “I would, Rick, but I’m exhausted. I need to go back to bed.”

  “Okay, well I’ll eat this then follow you up.”

  She nodded.

  “See you in a bit.”

  She left the kitchen, her heart heavy and her stomach churning, because something just wasn’t adding up. Her husband had hugged her and seemed to be loving as ever, but she knew that years of competing in a high-pressured work environment had enabled him to perfect a cool, collected demeanour, even if inside his blood pressure was sky-high. Something about the way he’d felt when he held her close was off: he was too thin now, his body leaner than it used to be, as if the slight softening that had come with contentment and being a father had been eroded away. But by what? He had been working hard, putting in long hours, and when he was home, he was always doing something around the house or garden. So it was probably just that and her own insecurities rooted in her self-consciousness about her changing body, as it once again became rounder and softer.

  She was probably finding problems where there were none.

  But as she climbed the stairs, she heard a familiar sound; it was Rick’s mobile letting him know that he’d received a text message.

  And she couldn’t help wondering who would be texting her husband so late at night.

  3

  As Dawn strolled along in the Saturday morning sunshine, she breathed deeply of the October air. Laura and James were just ahead of her, and her husband was at her side, her hand clasped in his. Everything seemed perfect. And that was the problem, the fact that to an outsider, they would appear to be the perfect little family, but Dawn knew differently.

  Rick had not come to bed until gone two. What he’d been doing until then, she had no idea. She’d lain in bed, hoping that he’d come and cuddle her, spoon her in the way she found so comforting and that helped her drop off to sleep when she was at her most insecure. When he hadn’t come, she’d strained to listen, to see if he was perhaps watching TV or loading his plate and glass into the dishwasher. She’d heard nothing. Then she’d fallen asleep, only to wake when he climbed into bed next to her and rolled onto his side, facing away.

  She had sensed his tension, known that even though the hour was late, he had stared at the window until she’d drifted off again, a deep sadness tugging at her heart and fear gnawing at her edges.

  When she’d risen at six, she’d rushed to the family bathroom where she’d dry retched over the toilet, not wanting to use the ensuite in case she disturbed Rick. James had come to the door and she’d had to pull herself together then, to reassure him that she was fine and just had a tummy bug. They hadn’t yet told the children about the baby; they’d been waiting for the twenty-week scan to ensure that everything was all right and to give themselves some time to prepare mentally and emotionally, but as she was getting so big, she didn’t think they could wait that long.

  Perhaps today was the day…

  “Penny for them.” Rick squeezed her hand.

  “I was just thinking about the baby and when we should… you know.” She nodded at the
children.

  “I guess we can’t keep it a secret forever. We could do it over breakfast? Or lunch tomorrow at your Mum’s?”

  She tried to work out his tone. Was it light-hearted and positive or was it forced, hiding something that he was struggling with.

  “Really?” She glanced at him and her heart fluttered. She still found him so handsome. Even though they’d been together since university and had two children, he was still, in her eyes, the most attractive man she’d ever seen.

  “Why not?”

  “Thank you for this… taking us to the café for breakfast. It was a good idea.”

  “I like to spoil my family but I don’t get the chance that often.” He laughed but it sounded hollow, even outside on such a beautiful morning.

  They reached the front gate of The Cosy Cottage Café and Rick opened it then stood back to let them all in first. Dawn’s spirits rose; she loved coming to the café. It was such a warm and welcoming place to be and she felt safe there. Allie was a dear friend and they’d enjoyed many mornings with coffee and cake as well as some uplifting Tuesday evenings, when Allie, Dawn, her sister, Camilla, and their friend Honey, would gather together and eat, drink and put the world to rights. On those occasions they often laughed until tears ran down their faces and it felt so good to have such close friends, so good to be alive.

  The café garden was breathtakingly beautiful in the sunlight. In the borders, orange, red and yellow hardy chrysanthemums bloomed in the mild October climate. Purple-blue spikes of lavender still towered above silver-grey foliage, its sweet crisp scent permeating the morning air. Creamy white dahlias swayed in the gentle breeze, their centres of their multi-layered heads a soft baby pink.

  Suddenly, tears pricked Dawn’s eyes as she recalled something she’d once read about the flowers. Apparently, the Victorians had used the dahlia to signify a lasting bond between two people, a lifelong commitment. She had always thought that she would be with Rick forever, but recently, she was starting to wonder if he felt the same way.

  She blinked hard and gazed instead at the café itself, a converted old stone cottage with ivy climbing its front, pretty purple shutters adorning the windows and a traditional thatched roof. On the side of the building, a sign in the shape of a teapot glinted in the sunshine and a specials board stood to the side of the front steps next to some colourful milk urn planters.

  Laura and James stopped at the door and turned to their parents, so Dawn nodded at them to go inside. She was about to follow when Rick tugged at her hand.

  “Are you okay, Dawn? You seem distant this morning.”

  I seem distant?

  She swallowed the words, not wanting to cause a row when Rick was clearly trying.

  “I’m fine. It’s just… something happened yesterday and because you were so late home, I haven’t had the chance to talk to you about it yet.”

  “What was it?” His hazel eyes roamed her face and she found herself leaning towards him as if hypnotised by the golden ring that flashed at their core, as if he had trapped the sunlight there and pierced it with the fathomless black of his pupils.

  “Something happened to—”

  “Mum! I need a poo!”

  Dawn started. James stood in the doorway hopping from foot to foot.

  “To what?” Rick frowned, clearly concerned by what she was about to divulge.

  “Mum! Quickly…” The speed of James’s hopping had increased and his little face was scrunched up as if he was in pain.

  “Oh it doesn’t matter. I can tell you later.”

  Rick nodded but as he released her hand, he whispered, “Surely he should be able to go to the toilet alone by now?”

  Dawn bit her lip then walked inside. That was the problem with having an absent husband. He didn’t understand what she dealt with on a daily basis, the type of things she didn’t like to bother him with when he came home from work fit to drop. He didn’t know that James had a phobia of public toilets – that had left the little boy nervous about getting locked in – following an incident in a toilet at school. Her own mother, Allie, and other mothers she knew had all tried to reassure her that children had their quirks and idiosyncrasies, and that, if not dramatized, such things would pass. But she still worried that James would be scarred by what had happened; he was such a sensitive boy.

  How many things did she fail to share with Rick these days because he was tired or she was tired or because it just seemed like too much effort?

  She waved at Allie, who was standing behind the counter, as she headed towards the café toilet where she would wait outside the door just in case James started to panic. It wasn’t glamorous, it wasn’t much fun, but it was motherhood, and Dawn wondered if Rick had any understanding at all of her world now, or if he just couldn’t see past his own expectations and preconceptions of how things should be.

  Half an hour later, Dawn was cutting up a cinnamon waffle for James. Laura was tucking into her lemon and blueberry muffin and Rick was working his way through a full cooked breakfast. Dawn had nibbled at a piece of toast but her appetite appeared to have stayed at home.

  “Everything all right?” Allie asked as she filled the children’s glasses with freshly squeezed orange juice.

  “Delicious, thank you.” Rick raised his mug of tea. “If I ate here every morning, I’d get fat.”

  “If you just slowed down a bit…” The comment slipped from Dawn’s mouth and she sucked in a breath. But no one seemed to notice.

  “Can I get you something else, Dawnie?” Allie placed a cool hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t look like that’s tempting you. How about some yogurt and honey? Perhaps with a banana?”

  “No, I’m okay, thanks. Just eating in the morning is difficult.” She bit her lip and eyed her children but they didn’t seem to pick up on her slip.

  “I know.” Allie nodded. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She disappeared and Dawn was left with her family again.

  “I like waffles, Mummy,” James said. “Can we have them every day?”

  “If we did, you’d soon get tired of them, darling.”

  Dawn thought of the different cereals she’d tried to tempt him, of the variety of scones and pancakes she’d baked that had soon been rejected, and of the mornings when she’d been on the brink of tears because her children just didn’t want what she had to offer them for breakfast. Sometimes, parenting was so difficult; especially when you were doing it alone.

  She shook herself. Why was she dwelling on negatives when she had her beautiful family right here with her and they were all enjoying their selections from Allie’s gorgeous menu? She had so much to be grateful for.

  Laura finished her muffin then drained her glass. “That was delicious, thank you.” She got up and went round the table to Rick and hugged him.

  “Hey what was that for?”

  “I love you, Daddy. Are you staying home today?”

  “Of course I am. It’s Saturday.”

  Laura smiled then kissed his cheek. “You can help me play with Lulu and Wallace and take some new photos of them for Grandpa and Instagram. You should see how fat Wallace is.”

  “Really? Have you been overfeeding him?”

  Laura shook her head.

  “He’s just put on some weight.” Dawn winked when Rick met her eyes.

  “Oh he has, has he? Well perhaps we better put him through guinea pig boot camp.”

  “What’s a boot camp?” James asked as he dipped a piece of waffle into his juice.

  “It’s somewhere that people can go to exercise.”

  “Is that with soldiers?”

  “How’d you know that, Laura?” Rick asked his daughter.

  “Saw it on TV.”

  Rick grinned at Dawn and she shook her head. “Must have seen it at my Mum’s.”

  Allie returned with a small plate.

  “What’s this?” Dawn asked as she met her friend’s eyes.

  “Ginger cookies. I baked them yesterday
with stem ginger. They might help with the nausea.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem. I’ll pack some up for you to take home, too.”

  Dawn picked up a cookie and sniffed it. The warming aroma of ginger made her mouth water and she took a bite. The cookie was fresh and crumbly with the gentle heat of the fragrant spice warming her mouth and tongue.

  “Mmmm. It’s delicious.”

  “I’m going to see Chris,” James announced as he slid off his chair.

  “James, Chris is busy. Don’t bother him.”

  “It’s okay,” Allie said. “Chris won’t mind. Come on, James.”

  She took his hand and led him over to her boyfriend.

  “I’m going too.” Laura jumped down and rushed over to the leather sofa by the window, where Chris was sitting with his laptop on his knees.

  “Sorry you’re still feeling queasy. It’ll pass soon though, right?” Rick reached across the table to take Dawn’s hand.

  “I hope so. It’s draining feeling like I’m going to throw up all the time and it had passed well before this point when I was carrying Laura and James. Sorry.” She pointed at his plate.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t put me off.”

  “Are we going to tell them about the baby tomorrow?”

  “I think we should.”

  Dawn peered behind Rick to see Laura and James sitting either side of Chris as he showed them something on the screen of his laptop.

  “I need to tell you something, too.”

  Rick nodded then placed his knife and fork on the empty plate.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Yesterday, I went to clean the hutch out as usual. And I found—”

  “A rat! A big fat white rat!” Judith Burnley, an elderly lady from the village, had entered the café and her words cut Dawn off.

  “You don’t say.” Her companion, a woman of around seventy, shuddered as they approached the counter.

  Dawn watched them, her mouth hanging open.

  “Dawn, what is it?”

  “Shhh.”

  “Don’t shhh me.”

  She waved a hand at Rick then got up and went to the counter where she stood behind Mrs Burnley.