by Heidi Swain
‘Now,’ she said, popping a brown paper bag stamped with the café logo down on to the table, ‘what can I get you?’
‘Well,’ I laughed, nodding at the bag, ‘I’m guessing Dolly phoned her iced bun order in, did she?’
‘She did,’ Jemma confirmed. ‘Not that she thought you’d forget.’
‘Of course not,’ I laughed. ‘I think I’ll have a bun myself please,’ I told her, ‘and a latte, to go with it.’
‘Coming right up,’ she said, keying my request in to her digital pad, ‘and would you mind if I joined you?’ she added. ‘I have a proposition for you.’
It turned out to be more of an answer to a prayer than a proposition.
‘Dolly happened to let slip that you’ve decided to stay here in our little town, for the time being at least,’ she said as she served my order and sat in the chair opposite. ‘She also told me why.’
I cut my bun into four pieces and nodded grimly.
‘I still can’t believe it,’ I said sadly. ‘I’m going to stay to look after her and of course, I’m every bit as determined as she is that she won’t have to leave the cottage.’
‘She said that too,’ Jemma smiled. ‘It’s a great weight off her mind, Hattie.’
I was pleased to hear it.
‘She also mentioned that you were going to need some sort of job to keep you occupied when you weren’t pandering to her every whim. I think she’s concerned that it will all become a little maudlin if you never leave the house.’
‘How can it be anything but?’
‘But you will need some balance,’ Jemma went wisely on, ‘and I was wondering if you’d like to take on a couple of weekend shifts waiting on tables in here. Goodness knows I could do with an extra pair of hands at peak times.’
It was a wonderful offer but I couldn’t accept it.
‘It’s a very kind offer, Jemma,’ I told her, ‘and under any other circumstances I’d say yes straightway, but I don’t know what’s going to happen with Dolly. I might not be able to commit and what would you do if I had to cry off at the last minute? I’d hate to let you down . . .’
My words trailed off as Jemma shook her head.
‘That doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘I’m more than happy to fit round whatever you can do. I have a couple of youngsters on standby to fill any gaps.’
‘But wouldn’t it be more trouble than it’s worth, with me not always being able to turn up? It could get messy for you.’
‘Life is messy,’ she laughed. ‘And I can handle a little more uncertainty in mine. I’ve always coped before and the locals are a good bunch. They’re generally happy to hang on if there’s a queue and I’ve got Lizzie and her team next door if I get desperate for an hour or so.’
I imagined myself sporting one of the café’s trademark aprons and chatting with the locals as I took their orders. It wasn’t a job I had done before, but it would be busy and Jemma and Dolly were right, it probably would be a relief to get out for a while, assuming my friend was well enough to be left.
‘Don’t decide now,’ said Jemma, standing up.
‘No,’ I said, smiling, ‘it’s all right. I have decided. I would love to come and work here.’
‘That’s fantastic!’ she grinned, placing a hand lightly on my shoulder. ‘Come back and see me on the first Saturday of the new year and we’ll talk about shift patterns and perks.’
‘All right,’ I nodded, ‘but you have to promise not to ply me with too much confectionery.’
‘Nope,’ she laughed. ‘I can’t do that I’m afraid.’
I sat and contentedly ate my cinnamon and ginger laced bun. Working as a Saturday waitress in a small-town cafe might not have been a whole new career, but it was a start and the café was the best for miles around. I would be proud to be a part of the Cherry Tree team, even if it was only a small part.
When I arrived back at the cottage there were a couple of cars parked outside. One I recognised as belonging to the doctor.
‘Doctor Harris,’ I said as he came out of the door and closed it quietly behind him. ‘How’s the patient?’
‘In excellent humour, as always,’ he smiled. ‘She’s been holding court this morning, so she’s in her element.’
‘And what about her health?’ I stole myself to ask. ‘Not quite as excellent, I would imagine.’
You would never know by just looking at and talking to Dolly what was going on inside her. I think that’s what made it all the more difficult to comprehend. She looked and sounded so well it was hard to marry that with the idea that she wouldn’t be around to celebrate another Christmas.
‘She’s holding her own,’ he said, ‘and to be honest, Hattie, at this stage, that’s as much as we can hope for. The fact that you’re staying has been a huge psychological boost. She seems far more settled in her mind now that she knows she won’t have to leave here.’
I was pleased I was able to do something to make Dolly’s remaining time as stress free as possible.
‘Anyway,’ said the doctor, ‘I’d better press on, and you’ve got a visitor so I won’t keep you.’
‘I’ve got a visitor?’ I questioned, looking again at the second car parked along the pavement. ‘Oh, that’s Mr Matthew’s car, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ said the doctor, unlocking his own. ‘I’ll see you next week, but if you need me in the meantime, just ring.’
I looked back to the cottage and could see Dolly peeping around the front curtains. When she spotted me, she beckoned me inside.
‘Here she is,’ she announced as I pulled off my wellies and unravelled my scarf. ‘Did you get everything you needed from town, my dear?’
‘I did,’ I confirmed, handing her the bag of buns, ‘and a little more besides. How lovely to see you, Mr Matthews.’
He was looking rather serious and I guessed that Dolly had told him her news.
‘And you, Hattie.’
‘What was the little more?’ Dolly quizzed, her bright eyes narrowed as she studied my face for clues. ‘Was it something from the Cherry Tree?’
‘You know it was,’ I laughed. ‘I’m going to be working there for a few hours on a Saturday from the new year.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ Dolly beamed, clapping her hands together. ‘And Mr Matthews here has a proposition to keep you busy during the week.’
I had no idea why she thought that looking after her wasn’t going to keep me busy.
‘Oh?’ I questioned, turning my attention to the headmaster.
‘That’s right,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘I know it won’t be easy to begin with,’ he began, then faltered.
‘He means while I’m still clinging on,’ Dolly elaborated. ‘Go on, ask her,’ she urged.
Mr Matthews swallowed and started again. I really would have to have words with Dolly about giving folk a few minutes to come to terms with her prognosis before goading them into accepting it.
‘I’ve been looking at the school finances,’ he told me, ‘and I have funds to take on another teaching assistant. Not full time, unfortunately, but for three days a week and with the possibility of extending to five from next September. Given that you’ve fitted into the school team so well Hattie and that the children clearly adore you, I wondered if you would like to be considered for the position.’
I didn’t know what to say.
‘But I’m not qualified,’ I stammered.
‘You can study for the appropriate qualification at the local college one evening a week,’ said Dolly, shoving a pile of papers under my nose. ‘The majority of the coursework is done at home or in school.’
I looked to Mr Matthews, who nodded in agreement.
‘We’d love to have you on board,’ he smiled.
‘And I would love to say yes,’ I began, ‘but—’
‘No but,’ said Dolly sharply. ‘There are no buts.’
‘But,’ I carried on nonetheless. ‘I’ll have to think about it.’
‘What’s the
re to think about?’ she tutted.
‘Well, for a start, I don’t have anywhere to live.’
‘You live here,’ said Dolly, looking about her.
‘For now, yes,’ I said, ‘but I have to think about the future . . .’
‘The cottage is your future,’ said Dolly, sounding impatient. ‘I’m leaving it to you, Hattie. When I’m gone, the cottage and everything in it, including Tiddles, will be yours.’
Chapter 29
I really didn’t think my mind had the capacity to cope with any more Christmas surprises, but Dolly had other ideas. I sat with her and Beamish that evening and relayed to him everything that the day had held – the two job offers which I had accepted and the extraordinarily generous gift of the cottage from Dolly – and told the pair of them that I felt quite giddy with it all, as if I was celebrating at least a dozen Christmases all at once.
‘Thank goodness my imminent demise will balance things out a bit,’ chuckled Dolly. ‘Otherwise you’d be in danger of completely losing your head.’
‘Dolly,’ Beamish hissed.
‘What?’ she said, blinking and shrugging her shoulders.
‘That makes me feel awful,’ I told her.
‘It wasn’t meant to,’ she said lightly.
‘You shouldn’t say things like that, Dolly,’ Beamish scolded.
‘Why not?’ she carried on. ‘It’s my funeral. I can say what I like.’
I looked at her, wondering how to get the point across without eliciting even more gallows humour.
‘I just wish you’d give folk a chance to take on board what you’re telling them before you go bowling headlong into making such blasé remarks and spouting off ghastly gags.’
Dolly looked thoughtful.
‘Point taken,’ she nodded. ‘I suppose it is a bit of a shock when you first hear it.’
‘It’s still a bit of a shock,’ said Beamish leaning back in his chair and resting his head against me as I stood behind him.
‘It’s not just the diagnosis that’s shocking,’ I carried on, picking up the thread, ‘but your whole attitude towards it, Dolly. You seem too accepting,’ I added, in wonder, ‘almost as if you’re ready for it to happen.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ she sighed, settling Tiddles on to her lap. ‘However, I do have the benefit of a life well lived behind me. My little life here in Wynbridge, and occasionally beyond,’ she smiled, no doubt remembering her trips to the hotel, ‘may have been simple but it’s been full. I’ve filled my days doing the things I enjoy, working at a job I think I was good at and surrounding myself with people I love. Had I not ticked everything off my own personal Wish List,’ she smiled, ‘I might be feeling very differently.’
I could see the sense in what she was saying. As Beamish had pointed out to me before, it was all too easy to waste time, especially when you were young. It always felt like there’d be a next day, another year, a subsequent decade. Dolly’s legacy was going to be a testament to the importance of living in the moment and squeezing the most into and out of every single day.
‘I think I might write another Wish List,’ I told her, looking over at ours hanging next to the fireplace. ‘I think it will help keep me on track. Give me the focus to keep trying new things.’
‘Are you going to add getting better at ice skating to it?’ Beamish laughed.
I cuffed him lightly around the head and went to sit next to Dolly resting my head on her shoulder.
‘I might,’ I told him.
‘I did enjoy that last trip to the rink,’ she sighed wistfully. ‘It felt good to be gliding across the ice on my blades again.’
‘You were amazing, Dolly,’ I yawned.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘There’s life in the old dog yet, but now I’m off to bed. It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow and there’ll be plenty to do.’
As she walked over to the stairs, I saw her look down at Beamish and he looked up and winked. Clearly the pair of them were up to something but I didn’t have the energy to try and work out what. It was almost Christmas and I was sure all would be revealed soon enough.
*
All was indeed revealed straight after lunch the next day. Dolly, Beamish and I had spent the morning making sure we had enough of everything to see us through the twenty-four hours when the shops would be shut. Every present was finally wrapped and the larder and fridge were groaning under the weight of cheese, meat, puddings and of course the inevitable mountain of brussels sprouts.
It probably wouldn’t have taken quite so long to check through it all had Beamish not insisted on kissing me every time I passed under the mistletoe which Dolly had made him hang above every doorway, including those upstairs. She chuckled every time she saw us and said on more than one occasion that our partnership was the most perfect last Christmas present she could have wished for.
‘And talking of presents,’ she added the next time she commented, ‘yours will be arriving in a little while, Hattie so keep listening out for the doorbell, won’t you?’
Beamish cut the volume of the radio and grinned.
‘All right,’ I said, feeling somewhat uncertain.
Given that Dolly had gifted me an entire house and also explained that there was a small financial legacy to accompany it which would mean I wouldn’t be struggling to pay the bills while I established my new work routine, I didn’t think I needed another present, but knew better than to say as much. Dolly in a determined mood wasn’t a force anyone with an atom of sense argued with or contradicted.
A few minutes later the bell did ring and I was the one ushered to answer it.
‘Will it need signing for?’ I asked looking back over my shoulder as I pulled open the door.
Dolly and Beamish stood side by side, smiling idiotically.
‘No,’ Dolly laughed.
‘Hello, sweetheart.’
My eyes swung back to the door.
‘Mum!’ I gasped, ‘Dad!’
I couldn’t believe it.
‘Oh my god! What on earth are you doing here?’
I flung myself at my mother who wrapped me in her arms and held me tight.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she sobbed.
‘I’ve missed you too.’
I wasn’t quite crying, as I looked over her shoulder at my father’s face, but I was close to it. For once Dolly didn’t complain about the heat disappearing up the street and left us to our moment of joyful reunion.
‘This is such a surprise,’ I sniffed as the tears finally made a bid for freedom and I stepped back to let them in. ‘I didn’t think we were going to see each other until after the new year.’
‘Well,’ said Dad, hugging me hard as he followed Mum inside, ‘we didn’t like the thought of having to wait and when Dolly telephoned, inviting us to pay a surprise call, we thought we’d take her up on her kind offer and come straightaway.’
‘When did you do that?’ I asked Dolly.
She looked a little flushed, but not at all guilty.
‘As soon as Beamish told me of your decision to delay your reunion because you didn’t want to leave me,’ she explained. ‘He told me you were going to email and change your plans so I thought I’d interfere, just one last time.’
‘But how did you get their number?’
She tapped the side of her nose.
I was too grateful to insist she told me. I couldn’t believe my parents were actually standing in front of me, in Dolly’s cottage. They both looked a little different, older and greyer around the temples and I cursed the time I had wasted not talking to them, as well as why.
‘You must be Beamish,’ said Dad, holding out his hand to my other half. ‘Dolly’s told us all about you.’
Beamish stepped forward and shook it firmly.
‘Only the good I hope, sir,’ he smiled.
‘Apparently there was only good to tell,’ Mum smiled back.
The atmosphere felt completely different to when Jonathan and my parents had been in the
same room.
‘Well,’ said Dolly, as she bustled to the kitchen to put the kettle on. ‘Isn’t it wonderful that we’re all finally together?’
‘Absolutely,’ we all happily chorused and then burst out laughing.
Later that afternoon Beamish and Dolly headed into town for the church Christingle service. I had been planning to go with them but in view of my very special visitors, I opted to stay behind and fill them in on what I was going to be doing with my life now I had eradicated Jonathan from it. I knew Mum especially would be thrilled that I was going to be working in a school.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Beamish, planting a kiss on my cheek, ‘I’ll bring you back an orange.’
Once he and Dolly had gone, I settled on the sofa between my parents. I felt loved and cherished and safe. It was a feeling I hadn’t enjoyed in their company for a very long time.
‘If it’s all right with you both,’ I began, ‘I’d rather not waste time telling you about how things finally ended with Jonathan.’
There was no way I would have been able to tell them everything. I dreaded to think how they would have reacted had they seen the bruises he had inflicted and it wasn’t necessary to burden them with all that had happened that fateful Sunday when I had first heard from Mum again.
‘Suffice to say he’s gone for good,’ I sighed, ‘and I don’t think any good would come from wasting time talking about him. We know now what sort of man he was and we’re rid of him. That’s all that matters.’
‘I just can’t believe we didn’t see through him,’ Mum sobbed. ‘We went along with everything he said because we thought it was what you wanted, Hattie. We were so worried about losing you . . .’
‘And he knew that, Mum,’ I told her. ‘He used everything I told him about David and losing the baby to manipulate my relationship with you until it broke.’
‘But now it’s mended,’ said Dad, looking at Mum and smiling. ‘So, let’s do what Hattie is suggesting and move on love, yes?’
Mum nodded and blew her nose.
‘And now you’re with Beamish,’ she sniffed.
She and Dad had both seemed quite taken with him and I could hardly blame them. I was pretty smitten myself.