‘Right. Well, can you give her a message?’
‘Sure.’
She reached into a very large handbag and rooted around in it and I caught Gabe’s eye and we smiled at each other. Whoever she was, she wasn’t very friendly.
Finally, she reappeared from the depths of her bag with a small notebook which had a thin pen clipped to the side of it.
Then it came to me; that framed photograph in Stanley’s hall of his daughter and her family. That was where I’d seen her and the children before.
‘Are you Stanley’s daughter, by any chance?’ I asked.
She blinked rapidly, surprised. ‘Yes. Angela.’
‘Oh pleased to meet you!’ I beamed, sticking my hand out. She frowned at it and indicated that she couldn’t take it because she had a small book in her hand. I dropped my hand and shoved it in my apron pocket. ‘That’s who Nonna has gone to visit.’
Angela folded her arms tightly. ‘Well, she won’t find him, not unless she looks in Chesterfield Hospital.’
‘Stanley’s ill? What’s wrong?’ I gasped out loud. Gabe moved closer to me.
She harrumphed. ‘What isn’t wrong? Silly old sod hasn’t been looking after himself properly. I warned him ages ago about throwing old food out. He was bound to do himself a mischief sooner or later.’
I exchanged worried glances with Gabe. It sounded like a bad case of food-poisoning.
‘How long has he been ill?’ Gabe asked.
Angela flushed and started fiddling with her glasses. ‘Five days or so.’
Poor Stanley. The thought of him lying in a hospital bed without any of us knowing about it broke my heart.
‘But he only went into hospital last night. Anyway,’ she coughed and tore a page out of her notebook, ‘he’s been asking after your grandmother. Here’s my number, tell her to call me and I’ll fill her in.’
I took the piece of paper from her and folded it in two. ‘Thank you. I’m sure she’ll want to visit as soon as she can.’
Angela sniffed. ‘They’re fussy about visitors in intensive care.’
‘So it’s serious?’ I gulped, feeling the blood drain from my face.
I turned to Gabe, glad to have his presence beside me. ‘Nonna is going to be heartbroken. I have to go and tell her.’
‘Would you like me to drive you?’ he offered. ‘I’ll just let Robbie’s mum know what I’m doing, swap numbers and stuff. We can pick Maria up and go straight to the hospital if you like?’
‘I’d like that very much,’ I murmured, already untying the strings of my apron.
He squeezed my arm and strode across the café.
We had to hurry, if anything were to happen to Stanley and Nonna hadn’t known where he was … I shuddered, not wanting to contemplate the consequences. I needed to let Lia and the others know where I was going.
‘Excuse me a moment,’ I said.
‘Now hold on just a minute,’ Angela barked, barring my way with her arm. ‘My father is the one who’s heartbroken. What sort of woman strings a man along and then turns down his marriage proposal? Which I might add, I wasn’t happy about at all.’
That didn’t surprise me; I couldn’t imagine her being happy about anything much.
‘Your grandmother’s probably the reason he’s ill in the first place,’ she finished with a scowl.
I felt my hackles rise. Nonna had upset Stanley, that was true, but hadn’t Angela just mentioned something about him eating out-of-date food?
‘Nonna made your father very happy and vice versa. Now are you going to tell me which ward he’s in,’ I said, hands on hips, ‘or do I have to try to find it out myself?’
‘Intensive Care, unit four.’ She wagged a finger. ‘But I won’t have her causing him any more trouble. The doctor says he needs peace and quiet.’
‘I would think,’ I said sharply, wondering how such a kind and gentle person as Stanley had produced such a miserable old boot for a daughter, ‘that a visit from someone who loves him will be just what the doctor ordered.’
Stanley looked tiny, barely making a mound under the crisp hospital sheets. How was it possible to lose so much weight in such a short time? Gone were his plump cheeks and bright smile. The face that peered up at me was grey and gaunt, his eyes dull and watery. He had an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, and thin tubes protruding from his hand and chest. He was linked up to all sorts of monitors and two different drips and machines were beeping on either side of him. Nonna gently took his hand and pressed it to her lips and it might have been my imagination but one of the beeps seemed to speed up a little.
‘Signore mio,’ she murmured, ‘what happen to you?’
He tugged his oxygen mask down to his chin, raised his head and opened his mouth but all that came out was a rasping sound. He coughed and dropped his head back weakly against his pillow.
I found a jug of water with a cup and straw on his nightstand and supported his head while Nonna carefully held the straw to his lips. He took a sip and smiled his thanks to me.
‘Maria,’ he whispered, ‘you came. I thought I would die without seeing you again.’
‘What you talking about dying for, dicky head?’ She tutted. ‘You not going anywhere, Stanley Pigeon.’
‘It was awful. I was in the house on my own, and—’ He broke off, exhausted with the effort of speaking.
‘Shush, I am here now.’ She moved her chair as close as it would go. ‘And I never, never leave you alone ever again.’
His eyes filled with tears.
‘Do you mean that?’
‘Yes, Stanley, I do.’
He reached for her with his other hand until she was completely tangled in amongst his tubes and wires. And then he rested his head back on his pillow as silent tears of relief trickled down his face.
I left Nonna to talk to him in private, popped outside to check on Gabe who was waiting in the corridor and then went back on to the ward to find the nurse.
I’d thought we might be refused entry when we’d arrived at the ward but as soon as I’d mentioned Nonna’s name, a nurse had led us straight to Stanley.
‘Only two visitors at a time,’ she’d said, asking Gabe to wait in the corridor.
‘He’s been asking for her since he arrived,’ the nurse had told us, looking delighted to see Nonna. She had dark skin and even darker eyes and spoke in quiet soothing tones. ‘But when we tried the next-of-kin number for him, it just rang out.’
I found her at the nurses’ station explaining on the phone to someone that flowers weren’t allowed on the ward, but get-well-soon cards always cheered patients up and balloons were fine, but no latex.
‘It’s the allergens,’ she said cheerfully after putting the phone down. ‘We’ve got enough to deal with as it is.’
We looked over at Stanley’s bed. There were no cards and certainly no balloons and a noose of guilt tightened round my heart.
‘Has he …’ I swallowed. ‘Has he had many visitors?’
The nurse, whose name according to her badge was Mamta, shook her head. ‘Just his daughter this morning. But she only stayed a few minutes.’
‘I’m not strictly family,’ I said, ‘but we do love him. Can you tell me what is wrong with him?’
She told me that Stanley had suffered with a terrible bout of gastroenteritis and had been too ill to get out of bed to answer the door when Nonna had gone round last week. It had got worse instead of better and had eventually triggered internal bleeding which, due to the anti-coagulant medication he took for his heart condition, hadn’t stopped. By the time he realized how ill he was, he’d been almost unconscious and the ambulance had only just made it in time.
A wave of pure sadness crashed over me.
‘Thank goodness it did,’ I said, and the nurse nodded. ‘And why is his breathing so ragged?’
‘Pneumonia,’ she said. ‘But that’s under control.’
Poor old chap, Angela hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said what isn’t wrong with him.
> Suddenly Nonna cried out.
‘Santo cielo!’
The machines at Stanley’s bedside stopped making the soft beeping noises and alarms started going off. ‘Nurse!’
The nurse bolted over to his bed and began reading the dials and adjusting the drips and fitted the oxygen mask back over his mouth.
‘Keep speaking,’ said the nurse to Nonna encouragingly. ‘He needs to hear your voice.’
‘Stanley Pigeon,’ Nonna said in a wavering voice, ‘you not leave me now.’
Stanley’s eyes were closed and his breathing was harsh. I tried to keep out of Mamta’s way and squashed myself in between Nonna and the end of the bed. I rested my hand on her shoulder.
She covered it with her own and gazed at me through her tears.
‘I left it too late, cara. I not even tell him I love him.’
A lump the size of a tennis ball formed in my throat.
‘Tell him now,’ I croaked. ‘Just tell him.’
She leaned forward and pressed her cheek to his.
‘I love you, Stanley. It take me fifty years to love again, but I do it now and I am sorry I not say it before. I hope it not too late. I love you, Stanley Pigeon.’
There was a commotion at the door to the ward and Nonna, the nurse and I turned to see who it was. It was Angela, unsurprisingly, raising her voice and Gabe doing his best to calm her down.
‘Well, I need to see him,’ she snapped, waving a sheaf of papers at the ward sister. ‘I need to get this power of attorney signed. Tell that lot to leave.’
The ward sister, whose hair was scraped back into such a tight bun that it looked painful, was apparently not tolerant of this sort of behaviour and marshalled Angela straight out of the door and into the corridor. Gabe followed. My heart gave a little leap; he was such a star.
The nurse brushed past me to make a note on Stanley’s chart when suddenly his eyes opened and he made a noise, muffled by the oxygen mask.
‘May I?’ I asked the nurse.
‘Of course,’ she said, her dark eyes full of compassion, ‘he may be trying to tell you something.’
I gulped, understanding what she meant, and carefully lowered the mask.
‘Say it again, Maria,’ he croaked.
Nonna kissed his cheek. ‘I love you, Stanley Pigeon.’
He closed his eyes and his face seemed to relax.
‘Then … I die a happy man,’ he whispered.
‘No,’ Nonna said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘Don’t you dare.’
His hand fluttered up to find hers. I felt the nurse put her arms round my shoulders and realized I was shaking, tears coursing down my cheeks. This was so unfair, this couldn’t end now, not just when they’d found each other.
Stanley’s eyes flickered open again and a faint smile appeared on his lips. ‘But not yet.’
Gabe and I stayed at the hospital for another hour after that. Stanley seemed to be out of immediate danger. He was going to need surgery as soon as possible to stop the internal bleeding but his system would have to be a bit stronger yet for that to happen. But now that he had Nonna by his side, I had the feeling that he would gain strength quickly; he already seemed to be a better colour.
I came off the ward to let Angela take my place at her father’s bedside and chuckled to myself when I saw her trying to get Stanley to sign the paperwork she’d brought with her; Nonna was having none of it. I phoned Mum to let her know what had happened and she arranged to come down and bring Nonna home later. Nonna wasn’t ready to leave yet and nobody had the heart to force her.
It was already a quarter to seven by the time Gabe dropped me off outside the café. He’d had a couple of messages from Robbie’s mum and I could see he was getting anxious about being late to pick Noah up. It was a shame, I thought, stealing a sideways glance at him as I undid my seat belt and collected my bag, because a few minutes in the car, just the two of us, did have a certain appeal. But never mind, there’d be other times. Soon, I hoped.
‘Thank you.’ I smiled at him, shy suddenly, but conscious of his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. ‘Having you there made all the difference, especially dealing with the delightful Angela.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He grinned, but his eyes slid to the clock on the dashboard.
I leaned over and brushed my lips to his cheek before getting out.
‘And congratulations again on the new job,’ I said, leaning into the van, my hand on the door. ‘You never said who it is?’
‘Um, who who is?’
I giggled. ‘Who the job is with?’
Gabe’s eyes didn’t leave mine as he drew in a long breath.
‘I’m the new head of legal services for Garden Warehouse,’ he said with a tight-lipped smile.
I stared at him in horror, not sure I believed what he’d just said.
‘Seriously? You’re going to work for them?’ I gasped. ‘You’re going to work for the company that is threatening my livelihood?’
I swept my arm out, taking in all the other little shops. ‘Threatening all our livelihoods? How could you?’
‘Rosie, listen.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger.
‘No I won’t listen. You know what this means to me, this café.’
‘And me?’ he said in low voice. ‘Do you know what this job means to me? What it represents? How much I need to do this?’
‘I know this,’ I said, biting back the tears which I refused to shed in front of him, ‘you are a snake. And if you take that job we can’t be friends any more.’
‘WHAT?’ He stared at me incredulously. ‘Rosie, wait. It’s just a job, you can’t … Listen, oh shit, I’m so late for Noah, I’ve got to—’
‘GO! Just go!’ I slammed the door and ran to the café but not before I heard him yell and thump the steering wheel.
Gabe’s van sped away so fast that it left a cloud of dust in its wake and I knew I’d made him angry. But I was angry too. When would it end? I’d had a week, a whole week, of living on an emotional rollercoaster, and now, just when I thought the journey was finally smoothing out and coming to a happy end, whoosh, I was off again. I’d waited so long to let myself get close to someone, to trust another man after what happened with Callum, and now that I was finally beginning to let Gabe into my heart, I suddenly find myself sleeping with the enemy.
I looked up at the soft grey lettering across the front of the Lemon Tree Café, and dissolved into tears. I’d just sent away the man who’d touched my soul in a way no other man had ever done.
The café meant a lot to me and I wouldn’t let Garden Warehouse take it away from me. And Gabe, I asked myself, did he mean a lot to me too? And if so, would we ever be able to come back from this row? I opened the door to the empty café, my heart heavy with pain.
Rosie Featherstone, will you ever learn …?
PART FOUR
A Fresh Brew
Chapter 31
I was up and on my way to work far earlier than I needed to be. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Despite working twelve-hour days and driving Nonna backwards and forwards to the hospital to visit Stanley in my new little car (a bargain from one of our café regulars who’d sold his to treat himself to a new cabriolet for the summer) and sitting up late into the night researching pizza ovens, the oblivion of sleep eluded me.
And all because of that row with Gabe on Tuesday night when he’d confessed to accepting a new job with Garden Warehouse. I had been avoiding him ever since and as he hadn’t been into the café, I could only assume he was doing the same to me.
The awful thing was that I’d been secretly hoping that he would put himself first for once, really think about what he wanted to get out of life. Any other company and I’d have been delighted that he’d decided to return to his legal career. But not Garden Warehouse; I couldn’t get my head round that.
On my first trip to The Neptune, when Gabe moved to Barnaby, I’d been touched by how much he’d given u
p for Noah. He’d been so determined to give that little boy the start that he and Mimi had always wanted for their child that he had pared down his life so that he could manage it. Gone back to basics. And while I could see that ‘working to live’ to fit in around being a single parent had had its benefits, I could also see that Gabe might be ready for something more. And not just career-wise; he’d called me a beautiful woman and said he’d like to go out on a date with me …
But why oh why did he have to choose the company whose very existence posed a threat to my little café?
That question rolled round and round in my head during the lonely hours of the night to the point where I was relieved when five o’clock came around and the sky changed from grey to pink, accompanied by such a cheerful symphony of birdsong that it almost put a smile on my grumpy, sleep-deprived face. Almost.
And today, I remembered, as I stomped across the village green where a low mist hovered over the dewy grass, today was the first Friday in May. Today heralded a new moon. So much for Clementine’s theory about my lemon-peeling skills attracting a new love before the next new moon; the only thing I’d fallen in love with this month was Lia’s extra-thin-crust rocket and goat’s cheese pizza. I honestly think I could eat that every day for the rest of my life and never get bored.
Yes. Much better. Think happy thoughts; I congratulated myself on changing the subject. Thinking about pizza and my plans to radically alter the Lemon Tree Café was a far better topic. All I needed was to get the go-ahead from Nonna. I slowed my pace as ahead of me, two baby rabbits, tails bobbing, scampered through a clump of bluebells and disappeared into a tuft of grass near the edge of the stream. Baby rabbits, spring flowers and a blue sky … I sighed a happy sigh: life wasn’t so bad after all. Once this mist had cleared I reckoned it was going to be a lovely sunny day, clear skies perfect for … stargazing.
The thought brought me back down to earth with a jolt.
Tonight I had been invited to The Neptune to celebrate Gabe getting a new job. He’d suggested a night under the stars with him and Noah and supper al fresco.
Except that Gabe had taken the one job I couldn’t celebrate. And seeing as we now weren’t even speaking to each other, I could confidently say that our evening was well and truly cancelled.
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