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

by Rachel Griffiths

  “Thanks so much.” Honey smiled at her friends. “I’m so grateful to you for listening and not… judging.”

  “Why would we judge you?” Allie asked.

  “I didn’t think you would… but as I didn’t tell you before, I worried you might think less of me for keeping it in.”

  “All I wish is that I could go back in time and give the younger you a big hug and tell you that everything would work out. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about, you know.”

  “Thank you so much. Shall we go through to the lounge?”

  “Good idea.” Camilla stood up then picked up the boxes of chocolates.

  “I need to put the chickens to bed, first.” Honey glanced at the clock. “Poor loves. I’ve been distracted.”

  “You go do that then and Allie you can help me with the next batch of mojitos.”

  “Will do.” Allie saluted Camilla.

  “The night is young!” Camilla sang, as Honey stepped out into the cool darkness of the garden and made her way to the chicken enclosure.

  The moon was full overhead, so she could see enough without needing a torch, but the corners of her garden lay in shadow. The chickens had already gone into the coop, so she locked the hatch, then the enclosure before gazing around the garden. The air was laced with woodsmoke from a nearby cottage and a dog barked in the distance. She wondered what Dane was doing, then she shook the thought away.

  Tonight was about spending quality time with Camilla and Allie and putting the past to bed. She felt so lucky to have such close friends and she silently thanked The Cosy Cottage Café for bringing them all together. If it hadn’t been for her going in there when she moved to Heatherlea, then she might never have found such kind and supportive friends. Honey had so much to be grateful for and she felt much better now that she’d finally spoken about her past. No one was judging her; in fact, they were more supportive than she could have imagined.

  “Psst!”

  Honey looked up to see Camilla standing in the kitchen doorway.

  “Stop daydreaming in the garden and come and have a dance.”

  “Another one?”

  “It’s good for you. Think of the endorphins.”

  “Okay, coming.”

  Honey smiled as she returned to the cottage. Whatever else happened in life, as long as she had her friends, she knew she’d be okay.

  11

  Honey wrinkled her nose the next morning when she entered the kitchen. A glance at the clock informed her that it was eight-thirty, much later than she usually rose. She filled the kettle and switched it on then wandered around picking up glasses and chocolate wrappers. How many mojitos had she drunk yesterday? Bottles cluttered the kitchen worktop and she winced as she saw that they’d drunk most of the bottle of white rum. She didn’t drink a lot of alcohol and when she did, it was normally a nice wine and she tended to stop at two glasses, three maximum, because she hated hangovers.

  However, it looked as if she was stuck with a hangover for today.

  The morning sunlight warmed the kitchen tiles and she stood still for a moment, enjoying the heat on her naked toes. Hangover or not, she needed to go and sort the chickens out, so she stepped into her wellies and went outside.

  The garden was fresh and bright and she inhaled the sweetly fragranced air. Once she’d opened the coop and seen to the chickens’ food and water, she locked the enclosure and stood there for a moment watching as they emerged and helped themselves to breakfast.

  Honey knew that she probably needed to eat too, to help her body to recover after all the rum. She should also rehydrate her system, so lots of water was essential today.

  She’d eaten two pieces of toast, drunk three cups of tea and a pint of water when the door went. She frowned. It was Sunday morning and still early. Two reasons why she wasn’t expecting visitors. It could be Ethan, the little boy from next door, asking if his ball was stuck in her apple tree again. He was only six and loved playing in his large back garden. Of course, he often kicked the ball too high and Honey had returned it over the fence many times, but the last time it had been stuck in the branches of her tree and it had taken Honey some time, and a lot of laughter, to shake the ball from the branches. Ethan also liked to see the chickens and had been round several times to help Honey collect the eggs, which he loved doing, especially when he got a box of fresh eggs to take home for his breakfast.

  Another sharp rap at the door, made her hurry through the hallway.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  She swung the door open, about to greet little Ethan, but when she saw who was standing there, her mouth fell open.

  “Hello, Honey.”

  She swallowed hard. “Bloody hell, what’re you doing here?”

  “I needed to see you.”

  She stared at the tall, slim man standing on her doorstep. His long wavy hair glowed in the sunlight, the red brighter than she remembered, and he roamed his olive-green eyes over her face.

  “But I haven’t seen you in… about eight years.”

  “I know.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked around self-consciously.

  “How did you even… know I was here?”

  “I asked around and, to be honest, you can find out most things on Facebook these days. Look, Honey, do you think I could come in?”

  “Oh… of course, Elliott.” She gazed at him for a moment, confused by the emotions surging through her, then she flung her arms around his neck. “It’s good to see you.”

  He hugged her back, his long arms easily encircling her waist. It was strange holding him after such a long time, yet he smelt familiar, as if beneath the aftershave and fabric softener that fragranced his clothes, his scent was the same; unchangeable. But some things did change, like her feelings towards him.

  He released her and she looked up at him again.

  “Come on in.”

  “Thank you.”

  He entered the hallway, and as Honey was about to close the door, she spotted Dane on the opposite side of the road wearing his running gear. His cheeks were pink and his hands rested on his hips as he stared at her.

  “Dane!” She waved at him.

  What had he seen? Her hugging Elliott on her doorstep on a Sunday morning. How would that look to him? She hadn’t even told him anything about Elliott. It was easy to imagine how this could be misconstrued.

  She hurried down her path, meaning to speak to Dane but he shook his head then jogged away. Honey watched him go. What else could she do right now?

  This.

  This was what she needed to do before she could be open with Dane. She wished he hadn’t seen what he had, as she’d wanted to speak to him and explain everything, but sometimes, plans went awry, so she’d have to hope that Dane was all right for the time being and deal with Elliott first.

  “Everything okay?” he asked from the hallway as she entered.

  “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

  “You sure? You have that worry line between your eyebrows that you always used to get.”

  “Some things don’t change, huh?”

  “They certainly don’t.”

  “Let’s have a coffee and a chat.”

  “Great, thanks. But can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why are you dressed as a unicorn?”

  Honey wrapped her hands around her mug of coffee and waited for Elliott to return from the toilet. She couldn’t believe he was here. She’d been talking about him just last night with Camilla and Allie and it was as if some kind of magic had brought him to her doorstep, so she didn’t even need to try to track him down.

  “This is a lovely cottage, Honey.”

  Elliott entered the kitchen and she took a good look at him. His ginger hair still brushed his shoulders but he’d grown thick sideburns that sat like lamb chops on his cheeks. He still had the smattering of light-brown freckles on his nose and a few on his forehead. He was as slim as he’d been as a teenager and we
aring clothes that would have fitted him back then too: jeans and a long sleeved tie-dye top that made Honey’s eyes hurt with the effects of her hangover. In fact, Elliott could have come straight from Woodstock.

  “Thanks. I haven’t changed it since I moved in so the décor is mostly my aunt’s.”

  “Sorry for your loss, by the way.”

  “Sadly, I didn’t know her that well, but when I came here to see the cottage, I knew I couldn’t sell it. It was kind of like coming home.”

  “It’s very homely.”

  He smiled and her cheeks warmed slightly. There was a familiarity between them, certainly, but also a kind of awkwardness, developed from years apart.

  “So, Elliott, it is good to see you but why have you turned up on my doorstep on a Sunday morning… out of the blue…”

  “I had to speak to you, and I wanted to do it in person. An email or a text… if I’d even had your number still, which I didn’t… well they didn’t seem right. And a Facebook message might have been missed, plus it’s not the right way to go about this; I didn’t want to do that to you.” He frowned. “Shit, perhaps I’ve been too presumptuous. I mean, maybe you wouldn’t even have cared. Look at you… beautiful, successful, living in a chocolate-box pretty village. You’re obviously doing really well so why would you care what your ex was up to?”

  “I do care. Of course I care. We have… quite a history and for a long time you were my best friend, Elliott. Don’t forget that.”

  “I haven’t and that’s why I came in person. And, if I’m honest, I wanted to see you once more.”

  “Once more? That sounds very final.”

  “Well, yes, because you see… I’m—”

  Honey held up a hand. “Hold that thought!”

  She jumped up and hurried to the kitchen door where a chicken was bobbing its way towards her vegetable stand.

  “Is that a chicken?”

  “No, it’s a dog.” She rolled her eyes at Elliott and he laughed.

  “What’s it doing in here?”

  “Hennifer Aniston shouldn’t be in here. I must’ve left the enclosure unlocked. Fancy giving me a hand? They’ll be all round the garden by now.”

  “Sure. I’m always up for a challenge.”

  They went out into the garden, Honey shooing Hennfier Aniston ahead of her towards the enclosure.

  “Well I didn’t expect to be doing this today,” Elliott said, once they’d managed to get the three chickens that had escaped back into the enclosure.

  “Me either. At least not with you. I usually lock the enclosure properly but I must’ve been lax with my hangover.”

  “You’re hungover?”

  “A bit. I had a few friends round last night.”

  “Good for you. I forget what it’s like to have a good drink. Of course, we haven’t been drinking much recently but that’s because I’m trying to be a supportive partner and to be in good shape for when the b—”

  Honey froze.

  “The b…? You’re going to be a dad?”

  Elliott pressed his lips together as he nodded.

  “That’s why I needed to speak to you. Well, why I wanted to speak to you.”

  “I see.” Honey headed back towards the house. “I uh… I need my coffee.”

  As she pushed the door open and entered the kitchen, Honey suspected that she’d need more than one coffee if Elliott’s news was of the baby kind.

  12

  Coffee in hand, Honey sat opposite Elliott again, waiting for him to begin. The kitchen was so quiet that she could hear the clock ticking and the birds singing outside. But she was waiting for Elliott to speak first, because he was the one with the news.

  “Honey…” He licked his lips then sighed. “We were so close for so long weren’t we?”

  She nodded. “Best friends.”

  “Looking back, it all seems such a long time ago but I remember it as if it were yesterday.”

  Honey and Elliott had grown up as next-door neighbours in Basingstoke. They’d been friends through primary school, fallen out in the first year of high school, then become good friends again at sixteen when they’d both gone to college to study art. Elliott had been her slightly geeky, lanky friend. She hadn’t known she had any romantic feelings for him until they’d gone to a house party, the summer after their first year at college, and ended up kissing. The transition from being friends to being a couple had been almost seamless, and as they’d already known each other so well, it had been a relationship free of the usual awkwardness of first dates or finding out something that put them off each other. Honey had also recently lost her father – just after her sixteenth birthday – and Elliott had helped her to come to terms with her grief. She’d been shocked, lost and broken and Elliott had been her much-needed rock, while her mother had turned to yoga to deal with her own loss.

  Then, when Honey and Elliott had come towards the end of their time at college and been considering university courses, everything as they’d known it had changed again.

  “The good and the bad?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch before, Honey, but I just felt that you were better off without me.”

  “I thought the same about you. I wanted to speak to you so many times but it didn’t seem right and I thought that seeing as how you were off enjoying university, you wouldn’t want me spoiling your fun.”

  “My fun? Honey, I thought about you every day and wondered how you were coping. I wished you would go to university yourself and do something with your talent.”

  “I have done things.” She lifted her chin.

  “I hope so.”

  “I paint and I have a kiln in my workshop at the bottom of the garden. I sell some of my work on.” She didn’t elaborate, not wanting to seem as if she had something to prove to him.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “What about you?”

  “I design T-shirts for a few different firms.”

  “Like that one?” She gestured at what he was wearing.

  “Yeah and some with slogans or sketches. Quite dystopian stuff some of it.”

  “But that was your style, wasn’t it?”

  “I also do some prints. I have a website.”

  “I’ll have to check it out.”

  “I’d like that.”

  They drank their coffee and Honey ran her fingers over the side of her olive-green mug. It was one she’d made when she’d first come to Heatherlea; simple yet solid and that was what she’d craved from life at that time. Wasn’t it what she still craved?

  Elliott drained his mug then put it down on a coaster.

  “I’ve been seeing someone for a while. She’s not an artist. In fact, she works at the local chip shop.”

  “The one down the street from your mum’s house?”

  “That’s right.”

  Honey’s mother had sold their house years ago and as she’d travelled around with her yoga – to retreats and clients – Honey had travelled with her, essentially running away from her pain. She’d finally settled in a rented flat in Reading when she turned twenty-one. She’d got a job in a supermarket and drifted through her days, occasionally visiting her mother, and her aunt in Heatherlea, but never really feeling connected to anyone. Then her aunt had died and left her everything and life had changed. She’d finally had something solid; a home, friends and a sense of purpose.

  “Anyone I know?”

  He shook his head. “She’s lovely. Her name is Yvette and she’s been good for me.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  “The thing is… we’re getting married in the summer. After the baby comes.”

  Honey’s mouth went dry. Elliott was going to be a husband and a father. She’d known it would probably happen one day but hadn’t expected to know about it.

  “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But why did you need to see me?”

  He s
hook his head. “I don’t know exactly how to explain it, but after everything we went through and because we were so close, I wanted you to hear it from me and not from anyone else.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you still think about…” He tilted his head.

  “Sometimes. It’s not as raw as it was but I do think about what we lost.”

  “We might still be together if it hadn’t happened.”

  “Perhaps.”

  He smiled but his eyes were sad. “It would have all been very different.”

  “Very different indeed.”

  “It wasn’t your fault you know.”

  “I can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t been so negative about things at the start then maybe…” She folded her arms over her chest.

  He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  “I was eighteen, young and healthy. If I’d just…”

  Even as she spoke the words, Honey knew that sometimes, there was no explanation for what had happened.

  “Honey, you can’t keep blaming yourself. Yes, it wasn’t planned, and yes, it was a dreadful loss, especially after we’d decided we would make a go of things, but it’s so common and so many couples go through it.”

  “It doesn’t make it any less painful.”

  “No it doesn’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Elliott. I wish things had been different.”

  He reached over the table and took her hand. “Me too.”

  A tear trickled down Honey’s cheek and she wiped it away.

  “I also need to apologise for how I behaved afterwards. You were grieving too and I pushed you away.”

  “But I never blamed you, Honey. I did want to hold you and for us to comfort each other, but your grief was unfathomable and when you broke away from me, I knew you needed some space.”

  “I should have been there for you instead of shutting down then running away.”

  He sighed. “We all react differently in different circumstances. Grief is unpredictable.”

  “I was so full of self blame that I didn’t have time for anyone else.”