‘It’s such a lovely thing you’re doing, setting up this café for your dad. And I love the name. The Twilight Café.’ She wanders over to the window and peers out. ‘That’s a big garden,’ she murmurs. ‘Just as well you’ve still got that man – Terry, is it? – coming in to keep it tidy.’
I nod. ‘He’s great. But I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to afford him.’
‘Once the summer is over, of course, you won’t need him for a while.’
‘True.’ I stare at my reflection in the shiny aluminium kettle. Paying Terry is the least of my worries. The mortgage arrears are piling up – and there’s another payment due next week. I’ve set aside a small budget to pay for things like the café signs, the curtains Lucy’s making for me, and the huge list of ingredients I’ll need, to bake for opening day. I’ve calculated that after that, I’ve got just enough money left in my savings account to pay the mortgage arrears, which I will do this week. But unless the café turns in a decent profit in week one, I’ll be unable to meet the regular monthly payment.
‘Isn’t that treehouse wonderful?’ sighs Betty. ‘Your dad is such a clever man.’ She turns, a gleam in her eye. ‘Why don’t we take our tea up there?’
‘Into the treehouse? The last time I had a tea party up there, the conversation wasn’t exactly stimulating.’
Betty raises a querying eyebrow and I laugh. ‘I was about eight and the guests were all dolls.’
‘Ah!’ She nods.
‘But you’re right, Betty. It’s much too lovely a day to stay inside. If you’re game, so am I! Do you think Doreen will be up for it, though?’
‘There’s only one way to find out.’ Betty winks, then nips off into the living room, and the upshot is Paloma and I steadying the ladder while two ladies of a certain age tackle the ascent to the treehouse platform, giggling and in generally high spirits thanks to the Prosecco. Betty manages it without too much difficulty. But Doreen has to be steadied from behind on her way up by Paloma and me. Luckily, she’s wearing trousers.
Once we’re all safely up there, the treehouse works its magic, making everyone smile and relax. Betty and Doreen sit on the window seat inside, on the soft tartan cushions, and lean out of the window, enjoying the breeze rustling the leaves and drinking their tea from floral-patterned cups. Paloma and I sit on fold-out chairs on the deck beyond the window and we all chat about how sad it is that the ice-cream parlour has closed, but how fortuitous it is that I’m going to be filling the gap. Betty and Doreen seem really excited that they’ll have somewhere new to meet for coffee, and their enthusiasm fills me with confidence that maybe – just maybe – things will turn out all right.
‘It’s so lovely and peaceful up here,’ sighs Doreen.
Betty nods. ‘It’s perfect. All you can hear is the rustle of the leaves and the birds chirruping so close by. There’s something really soothing about sitting in the treetops. Things really do look different from up here. In more ways than one.’
‘Ooh, get you!’ Doreen laughs. ‘A regular little philosopher, you are.’
We all laugh. But I, for one, think Betty is right. Taking my worries to the treehouse always seems to help …
*****
My mind flashes way back in time, to the eve of the school leavers’ ball. Being in the treehouse with Paloma, terrified that Jason was about to break up with me.
We were eighteen and we’d been together for three years by then. The ball marked the end of school and the beginning of a whole new life for both of us, but I’d never had any doubts that whatever Jason and I did, we would do it together.
But the week before the ball, he seemed odd. Distracted. I kept asking him if he’d sorted out his suit for the night, but he just kept saying there was plenty of time to think about that, which there quite obviously wasn’t. I asked him if things were okay between us and he said of course they were. He thought he had a cold coming on and was feeling a bit low, that was all.
But I remember feeling so uneasy, I confided in Paloma.
We were up in my bedroom and she’d brought over the dress Linda had bought her for the ball – a long, silky creation in deep pink that contrasted wonderfully with her dark hair.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, sensing I wasn’t myself.
And then it all came out, in between sobs. How Jason had been so distant lately and I was terrified he was going to end our relationship. Mum knocked on the door and asked if I was all right.
‘Just a bit of boy trouble,’ sang out Paloma.
Then she whispered, ‘Come on. Let’s go out to the treehouse.’
So, we escaped to my little world among the branches and as my best friend gave me a pep talk, I stared out over the garden, hoping Paloma was right and that my worries about Jason would turn out to be nothing at all.
Up in the treehouse, breathing in the scented air that rustled through the leaves, I always felt calmer and more able to think straight. I decided that if we made it to the school leavers’ ball, things would be okay. If not – well, I didn’t want to think about what would happen then. Jason was my first love and I could never in a million years have imagined being in this position, worrying that he might be going off me.
But if it happened, I’d cope …
As it turned out, I had built a crisis out of nothing. I phoned Jason and asked him if he really wanted to go to the ball with me, and he said of course he did and what a strange thing to ask.
He sounded quite cross with me for doubting him, and I remember the relief flooding through me. Things were okay between us after all.
I said he’d been distant with me and he explained that he’d been worried about what would happen to us, now we were leaving school and everything in our lives was about to change. I knew he hated the idea of me going off to university. But that night, at the ball, I did everything I could to reassure Jason that even though our relationship would be long-distance for a few years, the way I felt about him would never change. We’d survive the separation because we were so strong together.
He still seemed a little quiet. But then the next day, he came down with a horrible dose of flu and I told myself that must have been the problem all along …
*****
When Betty and Doreen leave, Paloma and I tidy up and wash the glasses while we wait for more people to turn up.
Paloma seems distracted now that the visitors have gone, and she washes the same glass for ages while I wait with the tea towel. At last, she turns and hands me the glass. ‘I went to Old Mill Road yesterday.’ Her eyes sparkle with excitement. ‘I think I know which house Mum lived in. My birth mum, I mean.’
‘Really? Oh my God.’ I grasp her arm and throw down the tea towel. I’ve got butterflies and it’s not even my mum! ‘How did you know which house it was?’
Paloma abandons the washing-up. ‘The only thing Mum remembered from the time she adopted me was seeing a blurry photo of me in my birth mum’s arms in front of a red door with an old-fashioned bell-pull in Old Mill Road. When I got there, there were no red doors in the street, so it’s obviously been changed – but … there was only one house I could see that had—’
‘An old-fashioned bell-pull!’ My eyes widen. ‘Bloody hell! So did you knock on the door?’
She shakes her head. ‘I felt so sick with nerves and excitement to think I might be standing right outside the house where my birth mum grew up, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to walk up the path.’ She closes her eyes and swallows hard, remembering. ‘But I will. I definitely will.’
I nod. ‘I’ll come with you, if you want me to. Or would you rather go alone?’
‘No! Maybe. Oh, I don’t know, Twi. It’s all so weird. Can I let you know?’
‘Of course!’ I touch her arm. ‘You do realise she probably won’t live there any more?’
Paloma nods. ‘I know. She was only sixteen in that photograph. She could be anywhere by now. But I’m hoping the people who live there will be able to tell me wh
ere the family went. And if they don’t know, I’ll knock on some neighbours’ doors and—’
The doorbell rings. I give Paloma a tight hug. ‘This is all so exciting. I’m sure you’ll find her. We’ll talk about it some more later, okay?’ Then I hurry through to answer the door.
Becky, one of my best friends from schooldays, is beaming on the doorstep, with a gaggle of ‘the girls’ behind her. She hugs me and says, ‘We all skipped lunch so we’d be able to do a good tasting job for you!’
It’s all really relaxed, with everyone sitting round the big oak table in the kitchen or standing chatting, sipping tea or Prosecco, and stopping occasionally to scribble on their score card.
Everyone seems genuinely delighted I’m opening a café in the village.
‘It’s obvious you’re filling a big gap in the market,’ murmurs Paloma as we stand together, refilling the cake stands. ‘And from the reaction to your cakes, it looks like you might be run off your feet when you open.’
‘God, I hope so.’
My phone rings and I go to answer it, thinking it’s probably someone apologising for being late. I don’t know the number that flashes up.
‘Hi, Twilight?’
‘Yes.’ My heart sinks. It’s Lucy.
‘A little bird told me you’re having a cake-tasting party. Can anyone come?’
‘Well, it’s not really a party. Just a few people …’ I trail off awkwardly, wondering how on earth she got wind of it. You can’t keep anything quiet in a village as small as Hart’s End.
‘I’m following a “clean diet” these days, but I’m sure I could step off the wagon for the afternoon, if it’s in aid of helping a friend,’ she says, and my eyebrows shoot up.
A friend? She has to be joking. Has she conveniently forgotten how she terrorised me for years? The only reason she’s phoning is because she can’t bear being left out.
‘Well, I don’t know …’ I hate myself for dithering. Why can’t I just tell her straight that she’s not invited? It’s not as if I owe her anything, for goodness’ sake!
Paloma is frowning at me. She’s probably guessed who it is. No one else but Lucy would make me so ridiculously awkward.
‘It would just be me and Jason. And Olivia,’ Lucy says, sounding affronted that I’m not immediately welcoming her with open arms.
‘Fine. Come round.’ I hang up, hating myself for giving in so easily.
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Paloma, seeing my glum expression. ‘Was that Lucy?’
I nod. ‘She heard I was having a party. She’s coming over with Jason and Olivia.’
Paloma looks annoyed. ‘What a cheek, phoning up to demand an invitation! I’d have told her where to go, although maybe not in so many words.’ She shakes her head. ‘Honestly, she hates to think she’s not right at the hub of things. The queen of our little community!’
I respond with a weary frown.
‘You’d already decided there was no way you wanted her here,’ says Paloma. ‘You should have just told her straight, Twi, that you wanted to keep the party small, so you’d only invited a certain number.’
With a sigh, I point out that Lucy did let me borrow her granny’s recipe book and that she was also providing curtain material, which made it hard to say no to her.
But I feel weak, like I’m making excuses for giving in to her.
A feeling of despair settles over me.
Will things ever change?
Chapter 11
The afternoon, which was going so well, is spoiled now because I’m permanently on edge, waiting for the doorbell to ring.
What’s Lucy’s motive for coming here with Jason and Olivia? Because I’m damned sure it’s not to tell me which of my cakes she prefers! Perhaps it’s to lord it over me with her darling Jason dancing attendance on her. She didn’t mention bringing the curtains over, even though she assured me I would have them in plenty of time.
A thought occurs.
What if the only reason Lucy offered to dress my café windows was so that she could leave me high and dry on launch day?
Paloma would say I’m being paranoid again. But what’s that well-known saying? Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t out to get me!
The doorbell rings and I go to answer it, feeling heavy with dread.
The threesome on the doorstep are all linking arms, a beaming Lucy in the middle. They look as if they’re about to perform a celebratory can-can in honour of my cake-tasting session.
Lucy sniffs the air appreciatively. ‘Everything certainly smells good. But I guess the proof is in the eating.’ She lets go of the other two and marches forward when I usher them in.
‘Just go on through,’ I say sarcastically to her back as she disappears into the kitchen, gravitating towards the group of chattering women. Olivia pinches my upper arm as she walks past and gives me a knowing look. ‘Just checking those bingo wings.’
Jason hangs back and we exchange an amused look.
‘It’s like going out with twins,’ he murmurs. ‘They’re never apart these days and they’re always whispering, although they stop immediately when I walk into the room. Olivia sees far more of Lucy than I do. Especially now they’ve embarked on this mission to get the whole of Hart’s End fighting fit.’
‘Oh, poor you.’
He grins. ‘Not really. I quite like it, actually. With Lucy engaged elsewhere, it means I can get out with the lads more often.’
I smile at him. He’s the same Jason I remember of old. Laid-back and happy to go with the flow. It would take someone with a personality like his to put up with a demanding type like Lucy Slater.
‘You’re looking good,’ he says, sweeping his eyes over me. ‘Being an entrepreneur suits you.’
‘Thanks. But I’m not officially an entrepreneur until next week when we open.’
He concedes this with a smile. ‘I suppose not. June 1st, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right.’ I feel flattered he’s made a point of finding out.
‘I’ll be there. And I’m hoping for double chocolate cookies.’ His eyes twinkle at me. ‘You see, I haven’t forgotten.’
I laugh. ‘Wow. I didn’t realise my baking was that memorable!’
‘The cookies were. You used to bake them every Saturday especially for me.’
We smile at each other. And just for a moment, looking into those lovely, kind eyes the colour of melting chocolate, it’s as if the intervening fourteen years never happened and we’re right back to the days of Jason and me. Wrapped up in each other. Inhabiting our own private little bubble of happiness.
The eye contact lasts a second longer than it should.
Jason coughs and looks down at his feet, and I launch into my party piece: ‘So if you could taste everything in sight and give each cake a mark out of ten, that would be fab. Just a bit of fun, really.’
He grins and heads for the kitchen. ‘My idea of heaven. And not a “clean diet” sheet in sight.’
With a heavy heart, I join them in the kitchen.
Lucy already has Jason welded to her side and is holding forth on the subject of her ‘boot camp’ training session the following day. She’ll have to do without me, I’m afraid. I’ve got far too much to do to get the café up and running.
‘I’m sure I can count on you all to attend my boot camp,’ Lucy is saying. ‘The 10k is in such a good cause and we have to set an example to the rest of the village. Get as many people joining in as possible.’
I happen to catch Jason’s eye when she mentions boot camp, and he grimaces ever so slightly at the thought. I suppress a smile and look down at my feet.
‘Wouldn’t you agree, Twilight?’ barks Lucy, and I glance up to find everyone looking at me. Why is she putting me on the spot? Or is that a stupid question?
I glance at Paloma but she’s just grinning away at the thought of me being forced to do some exercise.
‘Er, yes. Absolutely,’ I bluster. ‘It’s a great cause. Children’s charit
ies.’
Lucy nods approvingly. ‘So I can definitely count on you to be there tomorrow, then?’
Everyone is looking expectantly at me. So I nod. ‘Yes, I’ll be there.’
Lucy’s small smile sends a shiver through me. Oh, God. What’s she got planned? If it’s as horrendous as the ‘Big Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ nonsense, I’ll be going straight home.
Soon after this, everyone starts making a move to leave, and I can’t help wondering if it’s ‘the Lucy effect’. She always seems to hijack conversations, bringing all the attention back to herself. I don’t know how Jason stands it. I glance over at him, just as he tenderly tucks a lock of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. Lucy flaps at his hand in irritation and he just grins.
As it turns out, Lucy and Olivia decide they’d like to see the treehouse, so after waving the rest of the girls off, I’m obliged to take them up there, which actually really grates on me. It was my own private little hideaway for so long. It still is, if I’m being honest. I don’t want Lucy Slater polluting it!
Paloma, bless her, tries to dissuade them, saying, ‘The ladder sways a bit. So I’d hang on quite tightly if I were you, unless you want to come a cropper.’
Lucy hesitates, her foot on the bottom rung, but Jason, behind her, grabs her bottom and pushes her up. She squeals and pretends to be cross, but you can tell she quite likes it, and she makes it to the top no trouble at all.
‘Oh, I never tried the lemon drizzle cake,’ calls Olivia through the treehouse window, just as I’m about to follow them up.
‘I’ll get fresh supplies!’ I say, heading back into the house.
I grab a plastic box and start filling it with an assortment of little cake squares, glancing out of the window towards the treehouse, wondering what they’re talking about.
‘So, a café owner, eh?’
I spin round. Lucy is standing right behind me, which is a bit spooky because I never heard her come in. She must have followed me down the ladder.
‘Yes.’ I force a laugh. ‘Who’d have believed it.’
‘Setting up a business isn’t easy. You’re very brave to do it.’
Love Among the Treetops Page 8