The Lemon Tree Café by Cathy Bramley (39)

Chapter 39

I blew out a sharp breath, willing myself not to panic as Helena told me how Mum had looked pale as soon as she’d arrived but denied feeling poorly only to pass out minutes later, catching her head on the corner of a desk as she fell.

‘She’s come round again now, but she’s very woozy,’ said Helena. ‘I don’t think she needs to go to hospital, but she does need to go home. I tried your father’s number but it went to voicemail. Can you fetch her?’

‘On my way.’

I put the phone down and glanced down at my shaking hands.

‘Rosie?’ Gabe took hold of my arms, very gently, I noticed. ‘Rosie, what is it?’

‘I need to get to The Chestnuts Cancer Hospice,’ I said, frowning, ‘right away. It’s my mum. Dad said she was doing too much; I should have listened.’

I looked around me frantically. For my keys and my phone and oh … the panini.

I ran to the sandwich press, burned my finger and swore as I slid the panini on to a plate. I hadn’t got a clue who’d ordered it; my mind had gone blank.

‘One panini?’ I yelled indiscriminately.

One of the fiftieth-birthday lot came to fetch it.

‘My car,’ I said, my heart sinking. ‘It isn’t here.’

I’d have to run all the way home and collect it. I regretted not driving here now, but there was such limited parking and I liked to leave space for customers.

‘We’ll drive you to collect her,’ said Mark, picking up his flowers.

‘But I can’t just leave the café with customers in it.’ I swallowed. ‘I’m on my own this morning.’

‘You’re the only member of staff?’ Mark’s eyes widened as they roamed the café.

I could almost hear his thoughts: This would never happen at Garden Warehouse.

‘Look, Lia’s at the doctor’s with the baby,’ I said irritably. ‘Juliet is at a funeral and Doreen’s in the labour suite.’

‘Doreen?’ Gabe’s eyes popped open wide.

‘We’re just people,’ I said, feeling myself getting tearful. ‘It’s a family business about people, not just about profit and footfall and square metres, and sometimes life comes before work.’

‘Bloody unlucky people, by the sound of it.’ Mark put his flowers back down and rolled his sleeves up. ‘Luckily for you I used to be a barista. Gabe can drive you, I’ll stay here.’

‘You’ll stay at the café?’ I eyed him beadily. He was still the competition after all. ‘Alone?’

He cast an eye over the serving area. ‘Nothing here I can’t handle.’

‘Are you sure you won’t redirect all our customers to the Cabin Café?’ I tilted my chin.

Mark laughed and looked at Gabe for support. ‘You were right; she is a tough one.’

‘Rosie, he won’t do that,’ Gabe said, holding my gaze.

I looked away and frowned at Mark. ‘Haven’t you got an empire to build or something?’

Gabe raised an eyebrow and I flushed.

The door opened and two women with expensive pushchairs headed over to the toy corner.

‘The words “gift horse” and “mouth” come to mind,’ Gabe said sternly.

‘Actually, it’s my wedding anniversary,’ said Mark with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I’m supposed to be having the day off; Gabe here is having the afternoon off. Because sometimes life comes before work.’

‘Oh. Happy anniversary,’ I said meekly.

‘Mark and I just had one quick job to do; well, two if you count visiting you, and then he was going home,’ Gabe explained and then winced. ‘Are you sure you trust me with your car?’

Mark reached into his pocket for the keys. ‘Yes, but no opening doors into oncoming traffic. OK?’

‘Very funny,’ said Gabe sheepishly.

I allowed myself to study Gabe while Mark explained which key did what.

He was in a suit again, not that he wasn’t equally gorgeous in his scruffy shorts and ripped T-shirt, but there was something about him looking so smart that gave me a frisson of excitement. And also made me want to undress him immediately.

I looked away quickly before anyone noticed my face heating up.

Mark stepped closer to him and the two of them began a mumbled conversation sneaking completely indiscreet glances in my direction.

Gabe turned and caught my eye, mouthing that he’d just be a minute. I smiled back and walked slowly to the door, waving to the mums, one of whom was still unpacking bags of baby paraphernalia, the other had hoiked up her T-shirt and had a baby attached to her boob.

From my position in the doorway, I watched Gabe pass an envelope to Mark who clapped him on the back and laughed.

Gabe had always seemed happy in his own skin, content with his life choices, but now he exuded something else, an aura of contentment so complete that it was impossible not to feel joy for him. I eyed him again casually and counted the reasons for putting all this nonsense behind us and stopping fighting.

Firstly, God knows he’d been through a crappy enough time over the past few years, he deserved every scrap of happiness.

Secondly, what would I have thought of him if he had said, ‘Oh OK then, I won’t take this job if you don’t want me to’? Not a lot, probably. I much preferred people who stood up for themselves.

Also, thirdly … I swallowed a big knot of guilt. If I could forgive Candy-formerly-known-as-Callum for what she had done, surely I could get over Gabe’s working for Garden Warehouse, pizza oven or no pizza oven? And wouldn’t it be worth it, to call a truce? It was all right Nonna saying that arguing with a man was a sign of passion, but presumably arguing all the time wasn’t?

But right now, Mum was my main concern and time was ticking on.

‘Gabe, can we please leave?’

Mark and Gabe exchanged looks.

‘Yes, boss,’ said Gabe, pretending to tug his forelock.

Five minutes later we were cocooned in Mark’s big posh car and I was sliding about on the leather seats while texting Dad and Lia to let them know about Mum and asking Lia to come in to work as soon as possible to get the pizza oven on.

‘Mum doesn’t listen,’ I said to Gabe, torn between being cross and worried. ‘She thinks she’s invincible, won’t accept help from anyone. She has to take charge, be in control, and she can’t see that life would be so much smoother if she let others in.’

‘Hmm,’ said Gabe non-committally. ‘I know someone like that.’

‘I’m talking about the right sort of help.’ I sniffed, folding my arms tighter. Then I remembered my promise not to fall out with him today. ‘I’m accepting help now, aren’t I?’

It dawned on me that this was the third time since he’d arrived in Barnaby that Gabe had had to drive me somewhere for some drama or other: first when he drove me home sobbing and soaking after I found out about Nonna’s secret past, then when Stanley was in hospital and now to fetch Mum. He always seemed to be around when I needed him and I really ought to show a bit more gratitude.

‘And I’m very grateful,’ I added quickly.

‘Reluctantly grateful,’ he said with a smirk. ‘But it’s a start. About what Mark said, about the pizza oven—’

Gabe’s phone began to ring and I answered it for him.

It was Mark telling us to turn the radio on, which we did.

‘… And now over to the London news room for our national headlines.

‘Troubled retailer Home Stores has been thrown a lifeline this weekend by the outdoor discount chain Garden Warehouse. An offer has been made not only to keep all the existing branches open, but also to retain the majority of staff, thus protecting over three hundred jobs in the Midlands.

‘A spokesperson for the buyers, Gabriel Green, Head of Legal Services, says he’s looking forward to implementing changes that will see the retailer nudge out of the red and into profit within the next twelve months. Our reporter spoke to Mr Green earlier from our Midlands studio:

‘“We recognize that the strength of any business is in its people. Behind every member of staff is a story: a family, maybe children and mortgages and responsibilities. We respect that and will do whatever we can to ensure both Home Stores employees and customers benefit from the company being incorporated into the Garden Warehouse family. Of course we’ll be looking at the bottom line, at ways we can improve the business, but not at the expense of our people.”’

The more I heard, the hotter my face became. Gabe had basically just repeated what I’d said in the café a few minutes ago. I couldn’t believe that our two businesses had the same philosophy, it was heart-warming, not to mention mortifying.

Gabe snapped the radio off with a groan. ‘I sounded like an idiot.’

‘You are KIDDING!’ I stared at him disbelievingly. ‘You were amazing, Gabe! Seriously. I’m so proud of you. And what you said about families was lovely, really lovely.’

And embarrassingly similar to what I’d just said to Mark in a far more accusatory tone.

‘Thank you.’ He stared ahead as the car’s satnav informed him to turn left at the next junction.

‘Perhaps I was a bit quick to judge Garden Warehouse,’ I admitted. ‘Everyone else seems in favour of it. You’re enjoying this job, aren’t you?’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘I am. It’s just hard, you know, with Noah. I thought it would be easier now he’s a bit older, but,’ he shrugged, ‘he’s only been in school five minutes and already they’ve got a week off next week. Luckily Verity has offered to have him, but it’s not going to be easy.’

‘I’ll help whenever I can,’ I said. ‘Now I’m officially approved.’

‘Thanks.’ His face broke into a smile and then dropped again. ‘The thing is Mark really wants me to go to head office.’

‘When?’ I reached for my phone. ‘Because I can look after Noah, I’ll put it in my calendar now.’

‘Well, it might be more of a …’ He coughed and looked uncomfortable. ‘Regular thing.’

‘I don’t mind,’ I said cheerfully. ‘Did I tell you Lia and I used to spend every afternoon in the café as kids? Noah could do the same. Oh hold on.’

A text came through on my phone. I opened it quickly, hoping it would be from Lia. But it was Gina:

I stared at the message, wondering what on earth she meant, when a second text came through from her. This one was just a photograph of a woman in overalls next to a houseboat by the river. I zoomed in on it to see that the woman was nailing a FOR SALE sign to Gabe’s boat.

My heart plummeted.

Was that what he wanted to tell me? That he was selling up and leaving Barnaby?

I looked across at his handsome profile, the tip of his tongue protruding as he checked both ways at a junction. I didn’t want him to leave. But what did he have to stay for? I’d done nothing but argue with him and shout at him since he arrived. And he’d just said how much he loved his job.

I wish I could strip everything away – our jobs, our differences, our pasts – and just be. Just be together. The three of us. But life wasn’t like that, was it? It was messy and complicated and we were all to a greater or lesser extent a product of everything that has gone before.

Yes, Callum had made me reluctant to let anyone close to me, but I’d faced that now and whilst I’d never forget what happened, I could forgive, move on. I could go through the open door, just like Nonna, and love again.

We turned into a leafy lane and I stared at him, watching the dappled shade flicker across his face.

‘So you’re enjoying it, this new job, you’ve found your place in the world?’ I said softly.

He nodded. ‘Mark’s a good boss. He listens to my ideas – that means a lot to me, especially after being out of the corporate loop for so long. It’s reassuring to know that someone appreciates me.’

We pulled up at traffic lights. Gabe’s hand was on the gear stick. I took a deep breath and gently laid my hand over his.

‘I appreciate you too.’ I looked at him from under my lashes. ‘And I know we have our ups and downs, but we’re friends, aren’t we?’

He looked at me briefly just as the lights changed to green. He thrust the gear stick forward to change gear and my hand fell away. ‘I thought that wasn’t allowed any more?’

‘That was a mistake,’ I said, looking out of the window to hide my embarrassment. ‘Heat of the moment. You know what I’m like.’

‘Do I?’

‘Well, I …’ The words died on my tongue.

My heart throbbed as adrenalin flooded through me. I stared at his lovely face, not caring if he was aware, imprinting his smile, the curve of his cheek, the way his hair stuck up at the crown just like his son’s.

But there was so much more to Gabe than a handsome face. He was worldly-wise and hard-working and ambitious with strong family values. He’d loved and lost, but was still prepared to love again. He was quite simply, I realized, a good man. That was what made him attractive to me. Instinctively I felt that my heart would be safe in his hands. Or would have been. Because stupidly, I’d done exactly what Nonna had warned me not to do: I’d left it too late.

We drove past The Chestnuts Cancer Hospice charity shop, the last in a row of similarly despondent-looking façades, and then a sign for the hospice appeared on our left.

Gabe touched his top lip with the tip of his tongue and flicked the indicator on.

‘Rosie, when I said Mark wants me to go to head office, I meant permanently. To take a seat on the board.’

Hence selling the boat.

‘Oh right. Congratulations.’

I couldn’t think what else to say. I certainly wasn’t about to stand in his way, but the thought of him and Noah leaving Barnaby made my toes curl in my shoes.

We pulled into the car park of the hospice; Gabe scouted round for a space, not looking at me.

A woman in her fifties with shoulder-length blonde hair and big glasses appeared on the steps and waved at us with both arms.

‘I think that must be Helena.’

The Chestnuts Cancer Hospice was a large square building made of chunky red stone; it must have been a lovely smart residence at one time. It was still rather lovely now. It stood set back a little from a busy road and had a decent-sized car park at the front. I spotted Mum’s car in the end space, squeezed between a minibus and a row of prickly bushes.

‘Rosie?’ The woman marched towards us, hand out-stretched. ‘She’s a good bleeder your mum. Only a tiny nick to the back of the head, but she’s made quite a mess of the carpet.’

‘Sorry about that,’ I said, shaking her hand. ‘This is Gabe.’

He nodded at her. She cast an eye over him approvingly.

‘Do you run marathons? Triathlons?’

He shook his head. ‘’Fraid not.’

‘Pity,’ she said, marching back towards the building, her tweed skirt swishing against her thighs. ‘We’re always looking for fit volunteers to raise money. Come on through.’

Helena skimmed us through a wood-panelled reception so rapidly that I barely had time to smile at a girl in a headscarf with carefully drawn-on eyebrows behind a desk and take in the smell of beeswax and old wood and the delicate scent of a bunch of freesias on a table in the corner.

She turned abruptly through a doorway and Gabe nearly ran into the back of me as I changed direction to follow her.

Mum was slumped on a chair at one of two desks in the dim office with a bloody cloth pressed to the side of her head, a glass of water on the desk beside her and a bucket at her feet.

‘Darling!’ She sat up straight too quickly and then grimaced, blinking her eyes. ‘There was no need for you to come, I’ll be fine after a sit-down, I’m just overtired, that’s all,’ she said. And promptly threw up in the bucket.

Helena’s nostrils flared. She stomped to the window and opened it wide. I handed Mum the glass of water and stroked her hair and Gabe stepped forward with a handkerchief.

‘Mum, this has got to stop,’ I said. ‘You need to listen to your body even if you won’t listen to anyone else.’

She nodded weakly and grasped my hand. ‘I know. And I’ve decided to put this job on hold for a little while, just until I get my strength back. I’m sorry.’

‘Oh,’ said Helena, pouting, pointing to a small storeroom leading off the office. ‘But I thought you were going to organize an event for me?’

‘Well,’ said Mum with a sigh, ‘I suppose I could just do that one job.’

‘No,’ said a voice firmly. ‘You’ll do no such thing. Luisa, I’m here now, to pick you up.’

We all turned to see Dad standing in the doorway. He swept across the room, giving me the tiniest wink and then with an extravagant manoeuvre, he took Mum in his arms, tipped her back and kissed her passionately.

If that isn’t a sign of true love, I thought, pushing the sick bucket out of the way of Dad’s feet, then nothing is.

‘Oh,’ Mum squeaked.

‘I’m taking you away from all this, right now,’ he declared. ‘I love you, Luisa, you’re selfless and kind and always the first to help others. But enough is enough. Now it’s time for me to take care of you.’

We stood back as he picked Mum up and staggered towards the door.

‘Oh, Alec,’ Mum said breathily. ‘That was so masterful.’

‘Actually, darling,’ he said with a wince, ‘my back … Do you mind if I put you down?’

Gabe and I grinned at each other and I turned to Helena who’d walked to the far side of the office and was staring into the storeroom in dismay.

‘Oh bugger,’ she said. ‘Luisa promised to help me with the designer stuff.’

The perimeter of the room was bulging with rails of clothes.

‘If you don’t mind hanging on for a couple of weeks,’ I said, tapping her on her shoulder, ‘I think I can help you out with this lot.’

Gabe reached in, tugged at the sleeve of a charcoal suit jacket and whistled. ‘Paul Smith!’

Helena regarded me over the top of her big glasses. ‘Are you volunteering?’ She swished across to her desk and picked up a clipboard. ‘Rosie, isn’t it?’

I had the feeling I needed to be firm with Helena.

‘Yes, but I’m only volunteering to help once,’ I said, holding my nerve, ‘on social media, but I need to confirm a model first.’

‘Well,’ she sighed, ‘beggars can’t be choosers. All help gratefully received, thank you.’

Helena’s eyes flicked over to Gabe who was shrugging his arms into the rather smart jacket. ‘You can try on the trousers if you like. I’ll shut the door.’

He looked at me. ‘Do you mind? It’ll only take a minute.’

I shook my head. ‘I’ll just call the café to check up on Mark.’

The phone at the café rang and rang and eventually switched to voicemail, which I tried to see as a good sign that we were busy and not a bad sign that Mark had got fed up with waiting for us and had disappeared with the takings, which was hardly likely seeing as in my haste I’d forgotten to charge this morning’s customers and there was a grand total of £4.49 in the till.

‘What do you think?’ Gabe asked, self-consciously turning full circle.

‘Made to measure,’ Helena purred.

‘Lovely,’ I said with a dry mouth, thinking that I’d quite like to see him without the suit on too.

‘Fifty pounds to you,’ said Helena.

Gabe pulled a face. ‘Will you take an IOU? I don’t have cash on me.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she said with a sniff. ‘I don’t have time to chase creditors.’

‘I’ll buy it for you, I’d like to,’ I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. ‘As a leaving present.’

Gabe’s eyes met mine and he nodded and somehow I managed to smile back.

‘Thank you,’ he said simply and stepped backwards into the cupboard, reappearing thirty seconds later with the suit over his arm.

I handed over the cash to Helena and promised to be in touch soon.

‘Let’s get you back to your café, then,’ said Gabe. ‘And then Mark and I can finish our meeting and leave you in peace.’

‘Great,’ I said, trying to summon up enthusiasm.