Chapter 32
And so it was that Lia and I, quite unexpectedly, became the proud new owners of the Lemon Tree Café.
Nonna devoted her time to Stanley’s recovery, spending every hour she could at his bedside. She fended off his daughter’s demands to sell his bungalow and move into a retirement home in Bristol and she oversaw his move from the Intensive Care Unit to a general ward (neither of them liked the word geriatric). They were both counting down the days until he could come home.
We’d told Juliet and Doreen straight away, of course, as soon as Lia had accepted my proposal to each take a fifty per cent share in the café. Juliet had burst into tears, which was so totally out of character for her that we were most concerned until she explained that she’d been worried that Nonna would sell up or close down and she really, really couldn’t afford to lose this job; the money helped pay for her mother-in-law’s care. Doreen had congratulated us and then promptly asked to reduce her hours. Nothing personal, she added, but she had another grandchild on the way and wanted to be around more to help.
After that the next ten days had flown by in the busiest whirl that the little café had ever seen. Work on the new kitchen began immediately; we ordered the oven, booked the installer to come and knock the living daylights out of the kitchen, redesigned the menus, revamped the website, issued a press release, interviewed a new accountant … The to-do list had been extensive and exhausting. Even when the café had had to be closed for three days last week while the kitchen was out of action, we hadn’t stopped; we’d simply relocated to Lia’s house. We’d worked up some delicious brunch recipes and, following feedback from the pizza party, had finalized a pizza menu.
The paperwork had been straightforward enough; I’d used the same solicitor as I’d used to buy my cottage last year. And if my mind wandered occasionally to the fact that I’d really like to chat things over with Gabe, to get him to cast his sharp eye over the new lease that the café’s landlord had offered us, or the employment contracts we’d drawn up for Doreen and Juliet which included a yearly profit share, or mine and Lia’s new partnership agreement, then I quickly reminded myself that he was, from today as it happened, part of Garden Warehouse, ergo, the enemy, and the last thing we needed was the competition knowing our business.
And today, Monday, in the middle of May, we were reopening and the new pizza oven was about to be put to the test. Sitting outside, tilting my face to the morning sunshine, and waiting for Lia to arrive so we could open up together, I could scarcely believe my good fortune. The café was a world away from the media career I’d envisaged for myself, but it was a tangible thing and I loved how something as simple as a good cup of coffee could brighten up someone’s day. At eight o’clock on the dot, Ed’s car appeared and pulled up at the kerb. Lia jumped out and Ed followed.
‘How was Arlo?’ I asked, conscious that the upshot of all this excitement and upheaval was that my nephew was being shipped off to Gina’s for three days a week.
Ed puffed out his chest. ‘Took it in his stride. Hardly a peep out of him.’
‘Good,’ I said, nodding and wondering why I felt a bit tearful. ‘That is good.’
I met Lia’s gaze.
‘Our first day,’ she said with a shy smile.
We looked up at the café and then back at each other.
‘Yep.’ I nodded, my throat tightening with emotion.
Which was ridiculous because it was only a job, only a little café … But it wasn’t, a little voice nagged at me as I submitted to Lia’s silent hug. It was far more than that. The Lemon Tree Café had been a refuge for Nonna, a small piece of home in a strange land, a happy safe place, and now it was ours. Together.
‘Smile, you two,’ said Ed, holding up the camera on his phone. ‘One for the family album.’
He took the picture, kissed Lia goodbye and, wishing us both luck, he set off for work.
Lia watched his car disappear and sighed fondly.
‘Hashtag perfect man. Look what he gave me this morning as a surprise.’ She thrust her hand in my face. Resting on top of her wedding and engagement rings was a new platinum band studded with tiny diamonds. ‘He’s bought me an eternity ring.’
‘Gorgeous,’ I said, bending over her hand to inspect it in a bid to disguise the flush of envy to my cheeks.
That was three rings now that my sister had got from a man. I couldn’t even get a phone call. And whose fault is that, an annoying voice niggled in my head, when you yell ‘we can’t be friends’ at the only decent man you’ve met this millennium?
She gazed at it. ‘Apparently we’re not strapped for cash any more. The family business is doing well and Ed’s just had a bonus. And his dad is shifting more responsibility on to him so he can think about retiring.’
‘And he’s happy for you to do this?’ I eyed her carefully.
Ed would really like her to be at home and not work at all and if they didn’t really need the money which Lia would bring in, I hoped that he didn’t harbour any resentment towards her new business.
She nodded. ‘Being a parent is still my number-one job, but I need to think about myself too. I want to challenge myself, I know working at the family café isn’t exactly MasterChef, but it’s a new start for me. It’s close to home, so it fits in around Arlo, and I’m secretly quite proud of being responsible for our new menu and for kick-starting a career. Ed understands that.’
‘Good. And I’m proud of you too,’ I said, handing her a set of keys.
‘It’s hard finding a job you love and still be there for your family. I’m so lucky to have this one,’ she said.
I flushed, remembering how Gabe had said that his new job appealed partly because it would fit in around Noah’s school.
‘Well open the door, then,’ I said gruffly.
‘Sorry, boss!’ she tutted.
I tugged her hair, just like I’d done when we were kids. ‘Hey, partners, remember?’
‘Partners,’ she repeated and as the two of us stared at each other, I felt excitement bubbling inside me and I was sure she felt the same.
We pushed the door open together, flipped the ‘Closed’ sign over and we were in business.
By eleven o’clock the sun was high in the sky and Barnaby was getting its first taste of summer. The café’s pretty new outside tables had arrived just in time.
Customers sat under the awning enjoying the sunshine while sipping their coffees and chatting with friends. Sun-cream had been smeared on to freckly noses and pale shoulders and the air was fresh with the smell of cut grass. Across the road, small children played on the village green in T-shirts and shorts and summer dresses, and a couple of teenagers lolled on top of each other on a rug by the stream, probably thinking no one could see them.
The view out of the café’s windows was about as quintessentially English as it could possibly be and we’d propped the front door of the café open to let in the gentle breeze.
A breeze which was very welcome indeed because the new pizza oven, we’d quickly established, generated an awful lot of heat and Rick, the photographer, was making us stand in front of it.
‘Excellent. OK, Rosie in the middle this time. Arms round each other and big cheesy grins!’
No one could accuse him of not being thorough, I mused, switching places with Lia.
‘Come and give us a cuddle, Juliet,’ I said to our prickliest member of staff. ‘You know you want to.’
‘If I must, hen,’ Juliet grumbled when I forced her to come closer. ‘But I’ll warn you; I’m sweating like a racehorse with this furnace behind me.’
I’d booked Rick to mark the pizza oven’s first day with some professional pictures so I could tell the world about our new menu. Both Juliet and Doreen were working today, just to ensure everything ran smoothly on day one. Rick had been here for an hour doing interior and exterior shots of the café, close-ups of Doreen rolling out the dough, Juliet sprinkling mozzarella and Lia shovelling pizzas into the oven. My pose had been on the doorstep under the Lemon Tree Café sign with my arms folded. Although privately I thought he’d captured my combative stance on business very well, I got him to do another one of me at the coffee machine looking smilier. Now we were having some group shots done, much to the amusement of our customers who found it very entertaining.
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.’