Chapter 30
The café continued to be busy all day and I wasn’t at all surprised when a larger than usual after-school crowd began to arrive.
‘Good grief, it’s an invasion!’ Lia pointed out of the window at a sea of small people dressed in the grey and red uniform of Barnaby Primary School which was advancing across the green towards the café.
‘Battle stations, everyone,’ I said. ‘I think we are about to be bombarded by some very hungry children.’
‘Four Napoletana pizzas going in the oven now,’ said Juliet, rubbing a floury arm across her face. There was flour in her red hair too and on her black apron, and the back of her jeans had two white handprints on it where she’d had her hands on her hips.
‘We need more cheese.’ Lia started to panic, grabbing the cheese grater and raiding the fridge for anything vaguely cheese-like. ‘We’re running out of mozzarella.’
‘Spread it thinly,’ Doreen suggested, reloading the cake stand with the last of the fairy cakes. ‘Like the workers in this place.’
That comment may have been aimed at me because as the rest of the team scampered into action, I stood perfectly still, scanning the oncoming crowd of parents and children for a man with a thatch of sandy-coloured hair and a matching small boy …
And then moments later, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as there he was in front of me, his grey eyes smiling as he pulled his hoody off to reveal a faded T-shirt that clung to his broad chest and showed off his biceps.
I felt something twang at my insides and my heart gave a little flutter and it was all I could do not to throw my arms round his neck and give him a hug, as I’d done a week ago in my cottage when I’d opened my heart to him. I’d missed him.
‘Hi!’ I beamed.
‘How are you?’ he said gently. ‘How’s Maria?’
‘Good. Well. Happy,’ I burbled. ‘I’ll have to tell you all about it sometime when we’re not quite so snowed under.’
He took in the packed café and shook his head. ‘You’ve done an amazing job. I called into Garden Warehouse earlier and it was like a morgue.’
I folded my arms triumphantly. ‘Ha ha, my dastardly plan is working. It’s cost us a fortune in giveaway pizza, but it’s going down a storm and it’s worth it just to ruin the Cabin Café’s first day.’
‘That’s a bit harsh.’ Gabe looked uncomfortable. ‘It doesn’t have to be that way, you know. They’re appealing to a very different consumer to you – to all the Barnaby businesses, as a matter of fact.’
‘Oh really? Well, they started it,’ I retorted, sounding childish even to my own ears. I unfolded my arms. ‘Anyway, how about you? Good weekend?’
‘Um, yes.’ He nodded. ‘Interesting—’
He broke off as Noah skipped over, dripping melted cheese on to the floor from the slice of pizza he was waving about. He said a cursory hello to me and asked his dad if he could go to Robbie’s for tea and then stay late to play in his garden because they’d got baby rabbits and could they keep one because they were free.
Gabe laughed and ruffled his son’s hair, waving across at Robbie’s mum and agreeing to the play date but not the rabbit. Noah stuck his bottom lip out until Gabe told him about the baby owls he’d spotted in a tree this morning which made him gasp.
‘Owls sick up their own poo,’ Noah informed me gleefully and ran off to tell Robbie the news.
‘I do love that boy,’ I said with a giggle.
I looked up at Gabe to find him staring at me as if I was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
‘What?’ I laughed.
‘Nothing, nothing.’ Gabe cleared his throat. ‘So, I was saying … Yes. It was an interesting weekend. I’ve got something to tell you, I’ve—’
Suddenly I didn’t want to hear about it. I didn’t want to know about his date on Friday night and how well it went and who she was and when he’d be seeing her again.
Because I wanted it to be me.
There. I’d admitted it to myself. Gabe was the loveliest man I’d met in aeons and if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own issues I might have stood a chance with him and now it was too late.
‘Gabe.’
I placed a hand firmly on his chest to shut him up. But instead of looking surprised as I’d expected, his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face. Then he covered my hand with his, and squeezed it.
For a moment I was so taken aback I forgot what I was going to say. He stepped closer until the toes of his dusty boots touched the tips of my flat red pumps.
‘This is important, Rosie.’ He ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip.
The sounds of the café faded away until all I could hear was the whooshing of my blood in my ears. I didn’t know what was coming, but it was clearly significant enough to make him nervous. A feeling of dread gripped at my insides.
‘OK,’ I whispered croakily. ‘I’m listening.’
‘I’ve got a new job. I start in three weeks once I’ve fulfilled all my French polishing projects.’
I blinked at him slowly, totally speechless. I hadn’t seen that coming. New girlfriend, yes, but not that. I nodded for him to go on.
‘I saw an advert for a job using my law background and it was local enough to fit in around Noah and I thought, Why not?’
I was nodding away to his story like one of those toy dogs you see in the back of cars, but still my mouth couldn’t seem to remember how to speak.
‘I got through the first round of interviews and then the managing director came down from York on Friday night and interviewed me over dinner. Gina looked after Noah and I could tell she was dying to ask where I was going but I didn’t want to tempt fate in case I didn’t get offered the job. Same reason I didn’t tell you. But I did get it. And I feel … great! I feel like it’s time. Time to get my life back on track. Time to …’ he peered at me from under long golden lashes, ‘maybe invite a beautiful woman out on a date? That’s you, by the way. In case I’m not being clear.’
He grinned sheepishly and my heart started doing the fandango.
He hadn’t been on a date with anyone else. It was an interview. And on top of all that he thought I was a beautiful woman.
He brushed his hand across my face as a tiny tear of joy slipped down my cheek.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve made you cry.’
I launched myself at him, throwing my arms round his neck.
‘You haven’t, you’ve made me happy!’
I pulled back laughing and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘Really happy. I am so proud of you. And RELIEVED.’
His brow crinkled at that. I laughed again, deciding not to elaborate.
‘Thanks. After what you just said, I was a bit nervous—’
‘We’ll have to celebrate.’ I grinned. ‘Perhaps Gina could babysit again this Friday.’
He nodded and then slapped his hand on his forehead. ‘It’s a new moon again that night. I’ve already promised Noah we’ll stargaze. I don’t suppose you fancy a repeat performance? Singed sausages and cremated marshmallows?’
A new moon …
‘You’ve been here nearly a month already,’ I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
The new moon was coming round again and Clementine’s old myth came flooding back to me: if you can peel a lemon in one single strip, you’ll attract a new love before the next new moon. And even though everyone had agreed it was a load of mumbo-jumbo, I’d taken the last lemon home with me. I’d sat at my kitchen table and focused all my concentration on it. I’d peeled it painfully slowly, keeping an even pressure on the knife, making sure the strip of peel didn’t get too narrow or too wide, and afterwards I’d sat there with one bald lemon and one long strip of yellow peel and laughed at myself for being so silly.
He smiled at me and I smiled back. Maybe I wasn’t being silly after all. Maybe he could be my new love …
‘I’d love to,’ I murmured. ‘Thank you.’
‘Great, great.’ He gave me another brief hug and I breathed in the delicious scent of him – Gina was right, he did smell divine. ‘And I want to hear all about your trip.’
I nodded excitedly; I couldn’t wait to tell him all about Sorrento and the story of Nonna’s marriage and Paolo – he’d love Paolo, they had so much in common.
I heard a sharp cough.
‘Oh there’s someone behind you.’ Gabe stepped away as I felt a tap on my back.
I turned to see a woman in her forties with brown hair so straight it looked like it had been ironed. Blue eyes blinked rapidly behind chunky glasses beneath a long, even fringe. Two dark-haired children with freckled cheeks clung to her sides.
‘Excuse me,’ she said in a staccato voice, ‘can you tell me where the owner of this café is?’
‘I’m the manager. Can I help?’
I smiled at her two children. There were tell-tale signs of recent pizza demolishment around their mouths. I passed them a napkin each from a pile on the counter and pointed out the toys to them and, after asking their mum’s permission, they scooted off.
‘The manager?’ She looked from me to Gabe pointedly and we instantly shuffled apart. ‘No. It’s an old lady I’m after. Is Maria here?’
‘My grandmother?’ I shook my head. ‘She’s spending the day with a friend. In fact, she rarely comes in these days.’
Nonna had sent her apologies for not coming in to lend us a hand today but she was intent on getting back into Stanley’s good books and wasn’t going to rest until it was mission accomplished. Now that she was officially a widow, she wanted to make up with him and explain why she had lied in the first place. I’d told her that I was sure Stanley would come round once he knew the full story. She was probably there now camping out on his doorstep, singing Italian folk songs until he caved in and opened the door.
The woman huffed and a flicker of recognition lodged in my brain. Something about this woman looked familiar and yet I was sure she hadn’t been in the café before.
‘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 …?