Allie peered at the red digital display of the clock on the bedside table and groaned. It was six o’clock but her room was still quite dark and that never inspired her to get out of bed.

She rolled over and was greeted by a terrible stench.

“Eurgh!” She reached out and her hand met soft warm fur. “Is that you, Ebony?”

The cat purred in response.

“Where’s your sister?”

As if summoned, silver grey Luna pushed open Allie’s bedroom door and entered, bringing a warm glow from the hallway. Jordan must have forgotten to turn the light off again before he went to sleep.

Allie sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The double bed that she usually shared with a cat. While Luna was quite an independent feline, preferring to spend her nights going in and out of the cat flap on the backdoor, Ebony liked to spend her nights cuddled up to her mistress. Although Allie had originally tried to discourage the cat from sleeping with her, she now welcomed the presence of another living being at night. It could get lonely and Ebony offered the sweet, unassuming company that Allie appreciated.

Luna let out a meow then began circling Allie’s legs.

“I know, I know. Time for some breakfast.”

Both cats shot out of the bedroom door and Allie followed them, pulling on her dressing gown as she descended the stairs.

After she bought the cottage, she’d had a ground-floor extension built at the rear. The building maintained its original façade but out back was an L shape, with her kitchen and lounge overlooking the back garden. When she’d had the property renovated, turning the ground floor into The Cosy Cottage Café, she’d kept the first floor as it was, with three bedrooms. Two of the bedrooms were small but the master bedroom was an adequate double. The bathroom, however, was the size of a phone box with just a shower, sink and toilet, and Allie did sometimes miss soaking in a bubble bath. But she couldn’t deny that it was cosy and she was perfectly comfortable there.

The cottage offered the security she’d craved following the loss of her husband, and Allie, Jordan and the cats managed just fine. She did miss Mandy, who had moved away to attend university just before Roger died, and only ever returned for a few days at a time. However, she understood that her daughter was following her dream career in publishing and that she had to be at the heart of it all in London. Besides, Allie knew that Mandy had struggled terribly with the loss of her father, and that coming back to Heatherlea was painful for her. So she kept a room ready for Mandy, in case she ever wanted to come home, but she suspected that her daughter never would, at least not on a permanent basis.

Allie switched the kettle on then poured cat kibble into two bowls under the breakfast bar. As the cats crunched contentedly, she made herself a mug of tea and drank it gazing out of the long windows that overlooked her lush green garden and the fields beyond, watching as the sky changed from indigo to rose. The old saying red sky at morning, shepherd’s warning… popped into her mind. She really hoped it wouldn’t rain today because she had washing to peg on the line, including the tablecloths from the wake yesterday, and she wanted to try to get out for a walk. It was all very well owning a café and being able to bake delicious delights for her customers, but Allie sometimes enjoyed a few too many of those delights herself, from leftover cupcakes with rich fondant icing to buttery croissants that melted in the mouth, to tasty savoury quiches. So she tried to walk every day to keep the wobbles at bay.

Chris certainly hadn’t looked like he had any extra pounds to spare, even though he must be forty-four now, at two years older than Allie. In fact, he looked pretty good with his salt-and-pepper hair and lean jaw, as if time had improved him like a fine wine. And his chocolate-brown eyes were still gorgeous. She recalled how they used to twinkle mischievously, suggesting that he knew far more about what she was thinking than she could ever imagine. But that had been before everything had changed.

“Mum!” Allie jumped and spilt tea down her fluffy dressing gown. “Where are the frosted flakes?”

“When did you get up, Jordan?”

“Just now.”

“But it’s not even seven o’clock yet.” He wasn’t an early riser, even as a child at Christmas time when Allie had been up hours before him and Mandy, waiting for them to wake up and open their presents. And waiting for Roger to wake up, of course, because Christmas Eve often saw him enjoying a few drinks at the pub then not wanting to rise too early the following day.

“My rumbling stomach woke me.”

“Oh.” Allie grabbed a tea towel and tried to use it to mop some of the tea from her front. “Didn’t you eat enough yesterday?”

He shrugged.

“Maybe not. Anyway, what’s got you gazing into the distance?”

“What?”

He produced a box of cereal from the cupboard then shook it.

“Your face was all dreamy like you were thinking about what you’d do with a lottery win.”

“Was it?” Allie shook her head then pointed at the fridge where a magnetic notepad held the weekly shopping list. “Write frosted flakes on there.”

He nodded then peered into the cereal box. “Not sure these bran flakes are still good. They look a bit grey.”

“Toast?”

“Please.”

Allie opened the bread bin and pulled out a wholemeal loaf then popped a few slices into the toaster. Thank goodness Jordan thought she was daydreaming about the lottery. If he knew the truth, she suspected he’d be horrified. Allie was way past the stage where she fantasised about handsome men and way past the stage where she could imagine being with anyone again.

Besides, Chris was just an old friend and she doubted he’d be hanging around in Heatherlea for long. So she’d have to make sure she didn’t allow her fantasies to get too carried away.

“Ooh! What’s happened to you?” Camilla Dix leaned on the counter and stared hard.

Heat rushed into Allie’s cheeks at the sudden scrutiny.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Camilla narrowed her eyes, “you look different.”

“Do I?” Allie turned to the counter behind her and picked up a plate laden with sandwiches.

She pretended to arrange the triangular slices of bread for a moment, so her colour would have time to fade. When she turned back to her friend, Camilla had her hands on her hips and was chewing her bottom lip. “I know what it is!”

“Oh?” Allie came from behind the counter and carried the plate of sandwiches to the table in front of the log burner. She put it down then busied herself setting four places with cutlery and wine glasses.

Camilla clapped her hands. “You’re wearing makeup!”

Allie frowned. “So? I always wear makeup.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do, just not much.”

“It’s the mascara and flicky eyeliner.” Camilla gestured with her hands in a manner that suggested Allie had wings either side of her nose.

Allie shrugged. “Just trying something new.”

“It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

The door to the café opened and two women entered.

“Hello!” Camilla’s younger sister, Dawn Dix-Beaumont crossed to Allie and hugged her then did the same to Camilla. “Feels like a year since we last got together. It has been such a long week.” She pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Allie, it smells incredible in here. Have you made lemon drizzle cake?” Honey Blackwell sniffed the air dramatically and Allie smiled. Honey was currently enthused about an amateur dramatics class that she was taking and everything she did was exaggerated, as if to show how good she was at acting.

“I know it’s your favourite, Honey.” Allie said. “I’ll just get the wine.”

She went through to the kitchen and got two bottles of white from the wine cooler. When she returned to the café, she paused for a moment by the counter and smiled. Six years ago, her life was very different; she had a husband and two children and lived in what was then a new-build on the other side of the village. Her daily routine had involved household chores and a certain amount of daytime TV. She’d been plodding along, even though she’d sensed that something wasn’t quite right, possibly that something was missing. Of course, her daughter had gone off to university, leaving her with the beginnings of empty-nest syndrome. But at least she’d still had Jordan at home – leaving his dirty socks lying around, as well as plenty of dirty dishes in the sink and muddy shoes in the hallway.

Then everything had changed.

She’d lost Roger, twice in one day. Out of the blue. Well, she’d told herself it had been out of the blue but she sometimes suspected that she’d known more than she’d cared to admit to herself. The accident had been fast and fatal, tearing Roger from his family forever. Allie had been left to pick up the pieces.

And now…

She’d used his significant life insurance to invest in a fresh start. It had been hard at first, because she’d found that she didn’t want to touch the money, almost as if it was tainted. But necessity had driven her to see a financial adviser and to consider her future, as well as that of her children.

She had never really liked the new-build, preferring the quirks and idiosyncrasies of older cottages, as well as having her view of it distorted by Roger’s obsession with everything new – including women, it later emerged – so selling the family home hadn’t been that hard. Then she’d put an offer in on the rather run-down cottage and with the help of a good local builder, had transformed it into The Cosy Cottage Café. The necessary food hygiene qualifications had been acquired while the building work was being done, and Allie had worked hard to bring everything together.

With the passing of time, had come new friendships. The raven-haired, green-eyed sisters Camilla and Dawn had always lived in the village, but with them being younger than Allie, at seven and nine years respectively, she’d only ever known them to say hello to in passing. Then one day they’d come into the café together on a quiet day, and Allie had ended up joining them for a coffee. And that had been that. As for hippy Honey, as Allie affectionately thought of her sweet-natured friend, the twenty-six year old artist had inherited her aunt’s cottage in Heatherlea two years ago, and soon settled into a routine as one of their group. With her light-brown eyes and green and blue hair that made Allie think of a mermaid, she always brought a smile to Allie’s face. She was only two years older than Mandy, but very different to Allie’s serious daughter, and Allie sometimes wondered if the young women would get on should they meet.

She suspected that Mandy’s grief had affected her deeply and added to her serious nature, but also knew that growing up with a father like Roger would have had an impact upon her. He had loved his children and provided for them, but he’d been so stern and such a perfectionist, and it had been hard to live up to what he’d expected from his family. Allie knew she could have made the move to leave him when Mandy and Jordan were younger but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Roger’s parents had both died when he was at university – his mother first then his father two years later – so she’d worried about him being alone. Her own parents had always been so happy and united, and Allie believed in marriage and commitment. As soon as she’d known she was carrying Mandy, she’d felt that she had only one course open to her: marriage to Roger, and he had agreed wholeheartedly. She didn’t want her parents to see her as a failure, as being incapable of finding the love they shared. Even though she knew they’d never express it outwardly, the idea that they might think it made her sad, especially as she felt she’d let them down by not going on to higher education as she’d planned. She hadn’t wanted to fail at that, then at her marriage. So she’d stuck with Roger in spite of her misgivings.

But times had changed. Allie didn’t know how she’d manage without her Tuesday evenings at the café. They were her weekly highlight. She’d shut up shop at five-thirty, then Camilla, Dawn and Honey would arrive and they’d put the world to rights over wine, sandwiches, savoury pastries and cake. And often more wine. They could have gone through to her personal kitchen and lounge, but the café was so cosy, especially on chilly autumnal evenings, that they had automatically gathered around the log burner instead.

“What do you think?” Camilla asked loudly, dragging Allie back to the present, and all three turned to look at her.

“Ooh, suits you!” Honey said. “Very pretty.”

Dawn nodded.

“I like it. What’s the occasion?”

Allie took the wine to the table and opened a bottle then filled their glasses in turn.

“There’s no occasion, I just wanted to try wearing my makeup differently.”

When all glasses were filled, Allie sat down next to Camilla then raised her wine.

“To Tuesday evenings!”

Her friends raised their glasses and clinked them against Allie’s.

Suddenly, Dawn coughed and spat a mouthful of wine back into her glass.

“God what’s wrong?” Allie asked. “Don’t you like it?”

Dawn shook her head.

“You want red?” Camilla asked.

Dawn shook her head again then her face crumpled.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Allie got up and went round the table to hug her friend. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. Not everyone’s a fan of Pinot Grigio.”

Dawn waved a hand.

“It’s not that. I do like the wine and I wish I could drink it but I can’t…” A tear trickled down her face, so Allie rubbed her back in the same way she used to do the children’s when they had fallen over and hurt themselves.

Camilla shook her head and mouthed no idea at Allie and Honey.

When Dawn finally stopped sobbing, Allie smoothed her friend’s dark hair back from her forehead and handed her a tissue.

“You want to talk about it? Then we’re here. You don’t? At least get some food into you. You’re probably just exhausted running round after two kids and a husband. I know what it’s like; I’ve been there remember.”

Camilla shuddered.

“Can’t think of anything worse.” Then she held up her hands. “Not that I don’t adore my niece and nephew but it’s a lot to deal with on a daily basis. I’m full of admiration for you, little sister.”

“It’s not that either. I am tired, yes, but it’s something else.”

Allie looked around the table at her friends then gave Dawn another hug.

“Ah… I think I know.”

“You do?”

“Well I don’t think you’re crying because you’ve got a water infection and are on antibiotics and can’t drink alcohol. So are you—”

“Yes.” Dawn sniffed. “Somehow, in spite of using bloody condoms and being on the pill, we’ve managed to get pregnant again. Just when I was starting to feel normal. When I’ve finally got James sleeping through at night.” She blew her nose loudly.

Camilla took a gulp of wine then raised her glass.

“I guess here’s where we say congratulations.”

“You just said you couldn’t imagine anything worse than having children.” Dawn scrunched the tissue up as she stared at her sister.

“Yes but you’re a great mum and one more won’t make a massive difference will it?”

“I guess not. I hope not.”

“And we’ll all be here for you,” Allie added.

“Sorry am I intruding?”

Allie turned to see Chris standing in the doorway. She hadn’t even heard him come in. Her heart skipped as she took in his faded jeans, navy hoodie and scuffed brown boots. The shadow of stubble on his chin matched his hair colour and somehow his eyes seemed darker than yesterday.

“No!” She released Dawn then smoothed her hair. “Not at all.”

“Hi.” Chris waved at the other women then came closer. “I need to pay for the wake. I meant to do it yesterday but the day got away from me, then I had a few things to deal with this morning and before I knew it…” He held out his hands.

“Better late than never,” Allie said, offering what she hoped was a warm smile.

They crossed to the counter and she went behind it to locate the bill.

“Here you are.” She waited as he perused it. “Is it okay? No nasty surprises?” Behind him, Camilla was grinning at her and Honey was making heart signs with her thumbs and forefingers. None of them had attended the funeral, as they hadn’t known Mrs Monroe very well, and as far as Allie knew, they hadn’t met Chris before.

“No problem at all. It’s very reasonable.” He glanced behind him and Honey and Camilla quickly stopped what they were doing and feigned interest in their food. “I just… uh… I wondered if you might like to catch up sometime.” He raised his eyebrows then pulled a credit card from his wallet and handed it to her.

“Oh!” She held the card for a minute then realised she was supposed to put it through the card machine. “If you’ll just input your pin, please.”

Chris typed in four numbers and the machine beeped. “You can take your card back now.” Allie handed him a receipt then put the transaction through the till.

“So what do you think?”

“About catching up?” Her chest had tightened and her neck felt stiff and twitchy. This was ridiculous. He was an old friend asking her if she wanted to catch up, not if she wanted to jump into bed with him. But he was so handsome and Allie didn’t have much interaction with the opposite sex, except to serve them food and drink in the café and even then a lot of them were over sixty and accompanied by their wives.

“Yes. We could go for a drink. Perhaps Friday? I would’ve suggested tomorrow but you’re probably busy.”

Allie wasn’t busy but rational thought seemed to have deserted her. Besides, she realised that she needed some time to mentally prepare herself before ‘catching up’ with Chris.

“Friday would be lovely. We could go to The Red Fox, if you like? They serve great bar meals.”

“Brilliant. Shall I pick you up or meet you there?”

Allie imagined Jordan’s reaction if she was collected by a man from their home. Her son might be twenty-three but he was still so young in some ways and she didn’t want to worry him. Better if he didn’t know too much about this. She was just going for a meal with an old friend, after all.

“Meet me there? I’ll have to tidy up after closing anyway and sort out Jordan’s tea.” Jordan was capable of making his own meals but she didn’t want to have to rush to get ready.

“Okay, no problem. See you there about seven-thirty then?”

“Great.”

Chris paused for moment as if wanting to say more, but he glanced at the three women again, then gave a small shake of his head. “Bye then, Allie.”

“Bye.”

“Bye ladies.”

“Byeeee!” they cooed.

Allie watched as the door closed behind him then returned to her seat.

“Who was that?” Camilla demanded.

“Just an old friend.” Allie took a sip of her wine.

“He seems familiar.”

“He’s an author. You’ve probably seen his picture on the back of a book cover or something. He’s in Heatherlea because his mother passed away and I catered the wake yesterday.”

“Ahhhh.” Camilla nodded.

“Anyway, how’re you feeling now, Dawn?”

Dawn shook her head. “Never mind me, Allie Jones. Did I hear you agree to go out on a date?”

“She did!” Camilla said. “In all the time we’ve been friends, no men around. Not one. Then out of the blue, George Clooney’s double appears.”

Allie laughed. “Hardly. He’s at least ten years younger.”

“Even better!” Dawn said, rubbing her hands together. “Now then, how about you tell us all about Mr Clooney-come-author?” She picked up her wine glass and raised it to her lips then slammed it back down on the table again. “Dammit!”

“I’ll get you some orange juice.” Allie got up and went to the fridge behind the counter.

“And when you sit back down you’re telling us everything.” Camilla thumped the table.

Allie knew she had no choice but to give her friends some background information. She’d never spoken about Chris because it was… complicated, and not the type of thing you randomly threw into conversation. It was almost as if she’d separated her life into two sections: before and after the café.

Camilla topped up her glass. “I think you’re going to need this.”

“I think you’re right,” Allie said. She took a big swig of wine then swallowed it. “So, to begin at the beginning…”