The Lemon Tree Café

by Cathy Bramley

  Rick lowered the camera and ran a hand through his unkempt shoulder-length hair.

  ‘Lovely. Lia, let’s try holding the pizza up to the lens again, not at such a steep angle this time,’ he said with a regretful look at his trainers. ‘And the rest of you stand in a horseshoe around her.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ said Lia with a giggle.

  She carefully held out the metal paddle on which she’d got a freshly baked Diavola pizza studded with chillies and pepperoni. The first attempt at this had gone wrong and the pizza had slid straight off the paddle and on to Rick’s feet.

  ‘Nice one.’ He grinned.

  ‘Are we nearly done?’ I asked, massaging my cheeks. ‘I’ve been smiling for so long, I think I’ve given myself lockjaw.’

  ‘And I’m having a hot flush,’ said Doreen, blowing her fringe out of her eyes.

  ‘And my arms are aching,’ Lia added, putting the pizza paddle down on the work surface.

  Doreen was surreptitiously checking her watch and Juliet was scowling at Stella Derry who was trying to open the till by herself to pay us for her tea.

  ‘Yep. Just one last one, this time with serious faces, arms folded, like you mean business.’

  Which we did, I thought, catching a glimpse of Lia tilting her chin proudly at Rick. We really did mean business.

  The Cabin Café up the road might have big corporate backing, but small was beautiful, and with a bit of dedication, imagination and quite possibly the longest hours I’d ever work in my life, the Lemon Tree Café would not only survive but thrive. Besides, our food was a million times better …

  ‘OK, at ease,’ said Rick, lowering the camera.

  ‘Wait, one last one.’ Lia grabbed the pizza paddle. She looked at me wickedly. ‘Do you dare me to toss it?’

  I laughed and nodded. ‘You nutter.’

  ‘Ready, Rick?’ she said. Her tongue poked out as she concentrated.

  Funny how I was always labelled the brave one in the family, I thought, watching as she flipped the pizza up in the air like a pancake and caught it again, much to the delight of our customers. Actually, she was the one to step out of her comfort zone, to embrace new things and forge ahead without a backward glance. I could learn a lot from my sister, I reckoned, feeling a rush of love for her.

  ‘And that’s how to toss a pizza,’ she beamed.

  ‘Every day’s a school day,’ I replied.

  ‘Mamma mia,’ cried Nonna, fanning her face as she walked through the door half an hour later. ‘It hot in here!’

  I made a mental note to investigate air-conditioning and opened the back door a bit more as she said hello to our regulars and made her way over to the counter.

  ‘Nonna!’ I said, kissing her cheek. ‘You’ve just missed the photos. We could have had one with you in it.’

  ‘Good,’ she said with a grunt. ‘I not want my old wrinkle face in photo. Much better you two beautiful girls. I just pop in to wish you well before going to hospital.’

  Lia and I enveloped her in a hug and thanked her for the millionth time for letting us have the café until Juliet yelled that the pizzas were ready to come out of the oven and Lia squealed and ran to pull them out.

  Nonna led me to a recently vacated table, still with its used crockery on it.

  ‘Sit,’ she ordered.

  I obeyed and began to stack the mugs and plates but Nonna stopped me.

  ‘Listen, this is important.’ She took my hands and looked at me over her glasses. ‘I know you want to work hard but the café is just a business. Remember that. Don’t hide behind it; don’t forget to live as well, eh? And make room for love. I only just learned that.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ I said truthfully. ‘But I don’t find it easy.’

  I didn’t want to be alone; I wanted what Lia and Ed had, and Mum and Dad and now Nonna and Stanley. I wanted it, I just wasn’t sure how to get it.

  ‘You know what I think?’ Nonna smiled and pinched my cheek, just like she’d done when I was little. ‘You make life too tricky for yourself. Gabe is—’

  ‘Nonna,’ I warned, inhaling sharply, ‘don’t go there.’

  She held her hands up. ‘Okey cokey, but give him a chance and see what happen.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘What happens is we argue.’

  ‘That is good sign.’ She wagged a finger at me. ‘He light a fire in you. Don’t let it go out.’

  ‘Which reminds me,’ I said, getting to my feet, glad to change the subject, ‘I need to check on the wood situation for the oven. Can I get you anything, now you’re a customer?’

  ‘Oh.’ Nonna blinked as if that had just dawned on her. She looked at the clock above the door and nodded. ‘I just got time for espresso. Hurry up.’

  I laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek. ‘There’s fire in you too.’

  ‘I know,’ she chuckled. ‘Where you think you get it from?’

  I left her smiling to herself and made my way to the coffee machine, first poking my head into the kitchen to check on Lia.

  Nothing could wipe the smile from Nonna’s face these days, I thought fondly. Now that Stanley was making such a good recovery, the two of them had had the chance to really talk and share their histories, which in Nonna’s case meant telling Stanley all about losing her first love Lorenzo and her catastrophic marriage to Marco. Now the pair of them were inseparable and she spent every moment of visiting time at his bedside.

  I made Nonna’s coffee and then whizzed round the café clearing plates and wiping tables. Suddenly, I felt my scalp prickle as if I was being watched and when I looked up everyone was here: Clementine and Tyson, both wearing kneepads and dirt smears; Lucas from The Heavenly Gift Shop carrying two neatly wrapped boxes; Nina from the flower shop, carrying two large bouquets; Ken and Mrs Ken (I could never remember her name); Adrian from the pub with Frances, his cleaner; Mr Beecher from school; Biddy who’d brought Churchill in with her who was lapping at the floor where Lia had dropped the pizza earlier; Stella Derry, who never missed a thing, if this was in fact a thing, and finally Mum and Dad.

  They were all hovering in the centre of the café, grinning.

  Lia appeared by my side, pink-cheeked and wide-eyed. Most of her hair had come down from her ponytail and formed ringlets around her face. She looked beautiful and bubbling with happiness.

  ‘Is something going on?’ she murmured.

  ‘Just a hunch,’ I said, wrapping an arm round her waist. ‘But I think so.’

  Chapter 33

  ‘Everyone’s here,’ she hissed, pressing herself close to me, ‘except—’

  ‘Gabe.’

  ‘Gabe? I was going to say Ed.’ Lia raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I meant Ed,’ I said, fooling no one.

  ‘Gabe’s in London for a meeting, isn’t he?’ She chewed her lip. ‘Didn’t you know?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I remember now,’ I muttered, doing my utmost to conceal my disappointment, although what exactly I was disappointed about was tricky to pin down. Also, the grinning crowd seemed to be inching closer. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Gina told me when we dropped Arlo off. Gabe had been in a flap, apparently. It’s his first day in a new job today and they sprung this meeting on him at the last minute. He asked Gina to take Noah in after school, but she’s at capacity and couldn’t help him.’

  Oh God. Poor Gabe, poor Noah.

  ‘So where is Noah going?’ I said, feeling a bit sick and knowing that if things had been different, Gabe would have asked me. I so wish he’d asked me.

  Lia shrugged and then yelped with joy. ‘My men!’

  ‘Sorry I’m late!’ cried Ed, running in to join the crowd with Arlo bouncing along, clutched to his side. He grinned at his wife and squeezed in between Mum and Dad.

  And then Juliet and Doreen pushed into the middle of the café with trays of prosecco and people dived in until Nonna clapped her hands and everyone, even the bemused customers, fell silent.

  ‘No big speeches,’ said Nonn
a, passing Lia and me a glass each. ‘But I wish you lots of luck and love in the Lemon Tree Café.’

  I couldn’t help noticing that she looked directly at me when she said ‘love’.

  Everyone clinked glasses, Nina leapt forward with flowers for both of us, Lucas presented us with a gift-wrapped box which he insisted was nothing special and Lia and I were nudging each other to respond with a toast of our own when Juliet cleared her throat ominously and turned a furious shade of red. We all stopped talking again.

  ‘On behalf of Doreen and myself, I’d just like to say that in a café, of course, there are going to be bad days, when customers complain over nothing, or bugger off to that shite-hole café up the road to drink cat’s pee—’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, stepping forward to cut her off, ‘for pointing that out.’

  Doreen dropped her head into her hands.

  Juliet continued obliviously: ‘Or we run out of wood, or dough, or the loos get blocked but—’

  ‘But mostly, there will be GOOD days,’ Doreen interrupted loudly. ‘And we wish you lots of those. Congratulations to Rosie and Lia!’

  Everyone applauded, Doreen dragged Juliet back to the counter where they whipped out a huge celebratory cake and after a slice of that and downing their drinks, the other business owners said their goodbyes and went back to their shops. Ed kissed Lia and dashed off to take Arlo back to Gina’s and himself back to work, leaving Stella Derry, Mum and Dad to lend a hand clearing up.

  ‘We thought the occasion should be marked,’ said Dad, collecting up the empty bottles to hide the evidence of illegal alcohol consumption in unlicensed premises.

  ‘We are so proud of you both,’ said Mum, looking pink after her prosecco.

  ‘Thanks.’ I gave her a hug. ‘I’m really happy. It’s not what I expected to be doing, but I’m proud of what Lia and I have done too.’

  She leaned into my ear.

  ‘Plus you succeeded where I failed, getting Nonna to finally hang up her apron,’ she said in a stage whisper.

  But Nonna hadn’t had anything to hang her apron up for before Stanley, nothing to fill the gap, I thought, and simply hadn’t been ready to do so. But now, having faced up to her past, she was set to make the most of her future. She was quite an inspiration, my grandmother.

  ‘Mum has some news too, don’t you, Luisa?’ Dad prompted, putting an arm round her shoulders.

  ‘Oh?’ I smiled at her. ‘Do tell.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to mention it, I don’t want to steal your thunder on your opening day,’ said Mum coyly, clearly bursting to tell us. ‘It can wait.’

  ‘Are you ready to take over at the WI again? That is good news,’ said Stella unconvincingly.

  Mum shook her head. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask the committee to release me from those duties permanently, Stella.’

  She paused dramatically and Stella’s mouth formed an O.

  ‘Because I’ve been offered a position at The Chestnuts Cancer Hospice as fund-raising officer,’ Mum finished, smoothing her hair.

  The cancer charity? I stared at Mum wondering when this had all happened.

  Dad frowned. ‘Oh. I thought you were just volunteering two days a week?’

  Mum elbowed him sharply and coughed.

  ‘Congratulations!’ I said. ‘You’ll be brilliant, but—’

  ‘I’ll be planning my first event very soon, Stella,’ said Mum, interrupting me smoothly. ‘I hope I can count on the Women’s Institute’s support?’

  ‘Of course!’ said Stella, darting to the counter with the last batch of dirty glasses. She hiked her handbag on to her shoulder. ‘So that’s definite, then, you’re definitely not coming back as president?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Mum confirmed.

  ‘I’ll go and let the rest of the committee know right away. Bye, all.’

  I stood aside as Stella nearly knocked me over in her haste to spread the word. Lia led Dad away to show him the pizza oven, leaving Mum and me alone.

  ‘Where did this come from, Mum? I thought you were going to cut back on your voluntary work?’

  ‘My committees, yes,’ Mum corrected, looking shifty.

  ‘What’s the difference?’ I said, already feeling sorry for Dad, who had cherished the extra free evenings that his wife’s less cluttered diary had afforded them.

  ‘Remember the second-hand book stall that The Chestnuts Cancer Hospice had at the Barnaby Spring Fair?’

  I nodded.

  ‘I bought a couple of books and got chatting to the volunteers and I realized that I’ve still got a lot to give. I’m only in my fifties, I want to make a proper contribution to something important, something that will make a real difference,’ she said self-consciously. ‘I was on the verge of offering to help in their charity shop when Helena, one of the managers, asked me who had organized the Spring Fair and … well, I may have embellished my role somewhat.’

  ‘Mum!’ I shook my head affectionately; she had attended all the meetings, and along with Lia had been responsible for the children’s activities, but strictly speaking, it had been a team effort.

  ‘I know,’ she said, nibbling her lip. ‘Before I knew it, Helena was begging me to bring my event-management skills to Chestnuts and I was so caught up in the whole notion of being useful that I agreed. Goodness knows how I’m going to live up to my own promises.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine,’ I said confidently. ‘You’re very good at … delegating.’

  ‘Giving orders, you mean.’ She gave me a knowing smile. ‘Don’t worry, I admit it.’

  ‘Well …’ I grinned.

  ‘All the committees I’ve been on … they filled the days after my redundancy and after you girls flew the nest. It’s hard, you know, one minute being the hub of the family and superfluous the next. And my own mother didn’t want me at the café, so I made myself indispensable in other ways, by doing what I was good at …’ She blushed. ‘Which turned out to be bossing people around.’

  ‘At least you’re honest,’ I said with a grin.

  Mum gave a sheepish laugh. ‘But happily, that’s precisely what the cancer charity is looking for. And yes, I did tell your father it was only two days a week, but it can be more if I’d like it to be, and although it’s a voluntary position now, the manager said there is a chance of some budget for a salary later in the year and I’d like a bit of independence again.’

  ‘But what about your plans to spend more time with the family?’ If I knew Mum, two days would soon turn into five and before long she’d be too busy to take any time off to go on holiday with Dad.

  ‘Arlo is going to the childminder’s three days a week now and he won’t need me so much, and my evenings will still be free to go gallivanting with your father. But during the day I can do something useful, something less self-indulgent. Do you remember when my friend Karen had cancer and a group of us did a charity walk in our bras?’

  I nodded. ‘You raised a fortune.’

  The press had covered it and had printed a big picture of Mum and her friends in their bras decorated with feathers and sequins. Nonna had been horrified.

  ‘Doing that gave me such a buzz. I’d like to get that back, perhaps even do something in the village, like, I don’t know, set up a little support group, somewhere to go when you need to talk. They say charity begins at home, don’t they?’

  She took a deep breath and smiled at me, her eyes were shining and I could almost see the ideas whirring round in her head.

  ‘They do and I think that’s a brilliant idea.’

  I hugged her, thinking how proud I was of her and, come to that, of all the women in my family. Lia and Nonna were just the same: full of surprises, willing to take risks, daring to tackle new things and brave enough to admit their faults. They could teach me a lot, I reckoned. A sudden thought dawned on me.

  ‘What time does school finish?’ I asked.

  ‘Three fifteen,’ she replied.

  ‘Thanks.’


  Gabe might not feel he could ask me to look after Noah, but there was nothing to stop me offering …

  Gabe didn’t have anyone else in Barnaby, no backup, no support team to rely on when he was stuck at work or, like today, had a last-minute meeting foisted on him. My fingers itched to phone him, to let him know I’d help, that I’d always help out if he needed me. But I couldn’t. I’d yelled at him that we couldn’t be friends, I couldn’t just ring him now, in the middle of his first day at work and say, ‘Oh by the way, shall I look after Noah this afternoon?’

  But I really wanted to. I missed him. I’d shoved all the nice bits about our friendship into the corner of my mind. For the last few weeks I’d focused on building a strong business, buttressing the café, protecting it from Garden Warehouse and that was partly because the Lemon Tree Café was very important to me, but partly so I didn’t have to think about what I might have thrown away.

  Poor Gina, I bet she felt awful when she had to say no to Gabe; but there were serious penalties for looking after more children than you were licensed for, Gabe would have understood that. I pictured Noah’s cheerful little face, watching all his friends go home with their mums or grandparents and having to wait behind with the teacher until his dad came for him, and my heart squeezed for him. There was no need, no need at all.

  Charity, as Mum rightly pointed out, begins at home.

  Gabe and I might have our differences of opinion, I thought as I marched towards Barnaby Primary School with a crowd of others, but I wasn’t going to let that get in the way of doing the right thing where Noah was concerned. I’d take him back to the café until Gabe was able to pick him up and simply send him a quick text to let him know Noah was safe with me. That way I wouldn’t have to speak to him. Lia and I had spent most of our after-school afternoons in the café when Mum had been working: making up dance routines to Steps songs, chatting to customers and eating, a lot of eating. And there was no reason why Noah wouldn’t enjoy it too, although maybe not the dance routines …