Rachel used her hip to open the glass door and unwound her woolly scarf; it was far warmer inside than out. It was late afternoon, the lunchtime rush was over and she took a seat at a table near the back.
‘Be with you in a minute, doll!’
‘Thanks, Sandra. No rush!’ She hung her coat on the back of the chair and raised her hand in a wave, watching as the woman dealt with the customers sitting at the front.
‘So why don’t you just print what’s available on a menu?’ The girl was curious.
‘My son thinks it builds a relationship between customer and staff, and look at us’ – she touched her chest and then pointed at the girl – ‘here we are chatting!’ She leaned further in. ‘But if you want my honest opinion, I think a menu would be better. Nearly eight years we’ve been open and you have no idea how many times I have to answer the same bloody question.’
‘You are terrible!’ Rachel smiled at the woman she held in such high affection as she rushed past her.
Sandra laughed. ‘Yes, but the thing is I can be as terrible as I like; he’s not going to sack me, is he? How can he, I’m his mum! And I work for free!’
‘There are times when I would quite like to sack my mum.’ She whispered the aside.
‘Talk of the devil!’ Sandra nodded towards the door as it opened and smiled at Brian, whom Rachel knew she had a soft spot for.
‘Afternoon, Brian, Jean, did you pick her up all right?’ Sandra hollered.
‘Yes, of course. She’s coming along now. She’s had a lovely day at school, you’ll be pleased to hear. But I’m not sure she was warm enough. She’s only four, Rach, don’t you think she should have a vest on?’ Jean shrugged her arms from her coat.
‘I think she’s fine, Mum. You worry too much.’
‘I daresay, but that’s a mother’s job. Isn’t that right, Sandra?’
‘Tell me about it. Check on!’ she yelled towards the kitchen.
Brian took a seat at the table and unbuttoned his coat. He held his thumbs up to Sandra, who was miming a cup of tea over her customers’ heads.
Jean tutted.
Rachel smiled.
It was all part of the pantomime, the tuts, nudges, teasing and nagging – part of the rich tapestry of behaviour that formed the warm blanket that kept them all safe and sound inside the family unit. She loved living in the same city as her mum and dad, realising how easy it was to work and live with their support.
It was even good to see Peter and Julie and the boys, on occasion.
Rachel felt her heart lift at the sight of her daughter, her precious little girl coming through the door with a large painting in her hand.
‘Mummy!’
‘Well, hello, Miss Cecilly. I hear you’ve been painting?’
Cecilly clambered on to her mum’s lap and carefully laid her work of art on the table. ‘It’s a house.’
‘Well, I can see that!’ She winked at her dad, thankful for the steer from Cecilly, as she had been guessing it was a flower.
‘That’s my room.’ Cecilly placed her little finger on a blob that could have been a window. ‘And that’s Oscar’s room, even though he doesn’t have a room here because he lives in heaven,’ she stated matter-of-factly.
‘Yes, he does.’ Rachel took comfort that Oscar was now and always would be very much a part of their family.
‘Can I have a drink, Mummy?’ Cecilly called out.
‘I’ll get it! Coming right up, poppet.’ Sandra swooped down and kissed the little girl, who added sparkle to all of their lives, even on the dullest of days, on the crown of her head.
‘And what can I get for her dad?’ Sandra smiled towards the door.
‘Oh, nothing for me, thanks, I don’t want to spoil my supper.’ James patted his stomach as he entered and stared at his wife. Rachel felt her heart pulse with love for him: her beautiful, beautiful man, the father of her children.
‘Oh, that’s a shame. I’ve got a slice of fresh carrot cake with your name on it.’ Sandra winked.
‘Go on then.’ He smiled and sat next to his wife.
‘James!’ Rachel sighed. ‘I’ve cooked lasagne; you’d better eat it.’
‘Don’t worry, love.’ Jean patted his arm. ‘I’ve got Alka Seltzer in my bag. I’ll leave you some.’
James smiled at his mother-in-law.
Glen came out of the kitchen. ‘And I believe this is yours, madam.’ He placed the orange juice in front of Cecilly.
‘Thanks, bud.’ James nodded in his direction.
‘No worries, might have to miss five-a-side, James; can you let Gino know?’
James sucked his teeth. ‘He’s not going to be happy! You know the rule – you have to find a replacement or pay the fine!’
‘I’ll find a replacement. Christ, you’d think he’d let me off; we’ve got our final antenatal class.’
‘When’s your wife due?’ Jean asked.
‘Another three weeks.’
‘Ooh, could be anytime!’ James rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s so exciting!’
Glen exhaled through bloated cheeks. ‘To be honest, I’m more scared than excited.’
‘Don’t be.’ James dug the fork into the carrot cake that had arrived. ‘You just have to go with the flow, take each day as it comes and go to sleep thankful every night.’ Rachel and James exchanged a knowing look.
‘Save some of that cake for Vicky, it’s her favourite!’ Rachel smiled at her husband, still thankful that he had packed up the good life on their little fishhook-shaped island and followed her to a Bristol suburb.
‘James is right,’ she advised Glen. ‘Try not to overthink it. You need to let these little people be who they are going to be. They come into your life and you have to treasure every second you get with them. And all you can do is love them unconditionally. That’s it. You will know what to do, instinctively, I’m sure of it.’ Rachel nodded and felt the small weight of the bottle of sand in her pocket.
‘Love them unconditionally, I can do that.’ Glen clapped.
Her dad sat forward and spoke with uncharacteristic emotion. ‘I think being a parent is all about loving your kids no matter how far away they are.’
Rachel closed her eyes and pictured her boy, swimming towards the horizon with a smile on his face.
‘I think you’re right, Dad; loving them no matter how far away they are. And learning how to take the rough with the smooth, one day at a time.’ She held her daughter close and kissed her on the top of the head. Little Cecilly, named after the woman to whom she and James would forever be indebted, their darling Cee-Cee, who despite knowing what it felt like to be sadder than sad, had been so wise, so kind at a time when they had needed it most. She smiled fondly at the thought of her. ‘And I guess never forgetting that, whatever happens, time heals. Time heals.’