The following days were a whirl. Millie had never been busier – or happier. She managed a deal with the bakers that guaranteed a supply of bread for the short term. Not as exciting a range as Tessa’s, but it would do for a while until she found an alternative. She baked and froze as much food as she could, in preparation for the parties and even had to borrow space in one of the Barts’ freezers. Zoe and Sean were doing a wonderful job at making flyers and getting them put around town and there was a palpable buzz about the parties. It seemed Arthur had been right; she was valued and loved by her community.
It would have been easier – and more effective – to close down and open with a flourish on the day of the parties, but Millie couldn’t afford to. Instead, she opened for just a few hours each day, allowing her time to cook but also the opportunity to trial the new menu. She lost count of the positive comments about the café’s new look and customers were equally enthusiastic about the specials. Millie even persuaded Arthur to try her mango chicken, which he declared delicious.
What’s more, the weather stayed warm and sunny. Perfect for an evening beach party.
Jed stayed most nights, helped Zoe and Sean distribute publicity and took Trevor out for marathon walks when Millie was panicking about getting everything done. She hardly slept; the nights were too full with exploring Jed’s body and the days were a blur of work. She was running on adrenalin and white-hot love.
In an unusual lull, she and Zoe sat on the sun terrace. It was late afternoon and the café was empty. It felt most definitely like the calm before the storm. Millie pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head, closed her eyes and turned her face greedily to the sun. It was reflecting off the white-painted walls and she could feel her bones drink in the heat. She was exhausted but the happiest she’d ever been.
The café was beginning to attract its old customers back. The W.I. knitters were back, as were the B.A.P.S. Even Clare and her friends had returned, saying they didn’t feel welcome at Blue Elephant and already the novelty had worn off. Besides, Clare had pointed out logically, Blue Elephant had no outside space and it was a waste of the spring sunshine to mooch indoors. ‘Gotta get some rays,’ she’d said.
For the first time in a long while, Millie was daring to feel confident in Millie Vanilla’s future.
‘These cupcakes are so lush,’ Zoe said as she helped herself to another.
‘Mary Berry recipe,’ Millie murmured, without opening her eyes. ‘The woman’s a genius. Lots of vanilla.’
‘Love the pink icing. So pretty.’
Millie smiled. Since meeting Sean, Zoe had softened. ‘How’s school going?’
‘Okay.’
Millie swung her feet off the wall and gave Zoe a keen look. ‘Have you decided anything? About uni, I mean.’
Zoe sighed. ‘Everyone thinks it would be a mistake not to go. Waste of my talent, they keep saying.’
‘Your considerable talents,’ Millie added, with a grin.
‘Sean thinks I should. Go, I mean.’
‘He’s a bit of a star, that boy.’
‘Aw, Mil, that’s the problem. I don’t want to leave him.’ Zoe’s voice quavered.
Millie reached over a hand. ‘He’ll still be here. You’ll be back for Christmas, summer. And there are trains to Durham. He could visit. Might even be possible to get a flight from Exeter.’
‘Suppose.’ Zoe looked unconvinced. ‘Ever get the feeling you’ve met the right man at the wrong time?’
Millie suppressed the unkind thought that Sean could hardly be described as a man – yet. Her thoughts strayed to Jed and how he’d been last night. He’d held her tightly and whispered he loved her again and again. He’d found home, he’d repeated in amazement. To him she was his home.
‘Millie?’
Millie brought herself back. ‘Sorry, Zoe, I’m a bit tired.’
‘I bet,’ Zoe said mischievously. ‘What with a hot lover and all.’
‘Yes, well, I believe we were talking about your love life, young lady.’
‘Gawd, she’s “young ladying” me now,’ Zoe said to Trevor, who ignored her as he was too busy snoring in the sun. ‘Now I know I’m in for a lecture.’
‘Are you worried Sean might not be faithful?’
Zoe squirmed uncomfortably. ‘I think Sean will be more loyal than a very loyal thing. I’m more worried about me.’
‘Ah.’
‘Oh, Millie, why can’t everything stay the same? Why can’t I stay in Berecombe with Sean?’ Zoe reverted to a young child, bottom lip jutting out while she scuffed her trainer against a pebble.
‘I don’t know the answer to that, Zo. Think it’s called Life.’
‘Well, I wish Life would get on its horse, ride off into the sunset and leave me alone.’
Millie frowned. ‘A very strange image. Do you think Life looks a bit like Death? Can’t imagine either riding a horse, though. Especially one of those dozy ponies George Small has on his farm.’
It wasn’t much of a joke, but it raised a smile from Zoe, even if it was a very tiny one.
She sighed. ‘Trouble is, Mil, I want both, if I’m honest. I want to go to Durham. I loved it there when I went on the open day. And the course is ace.’ She stared out to sea and watched a family with several children paddling in the shallows and shrieking at the cold water. ‘But I really love Sean. I really, really love him.’
‘Enough to sacrifice getting a degree?’
Zoe stuck a finger into her cupcake and sucked icing off it. ‘What good will an English lit degree do me?’
‘I don’t know, my lovely, but I suppose it’s a sign to the world of your intelligence and commitment. Depends what you want to do, I suppose.’
‘That’s just it. I don’t know what I want to do!’ Zoe turned on Millie, all passion and flying dyed hair. ‘I don’t know if I want to do art. Ken says I’ve got the talent if I want to go for a fine arts course. But that would mean changing options, going somewhere else. Ken had to do a foundation course on top, so that would mean four years away.’ She flung herself back in the chair, which creaked ominously. ‘Before Sean, before meeting his dad, I was so certain what I wanted to do and now it’s all such a mess. It’s doing my head in with all the thinking about it.’ She screwed up her face, trying not to cry.
Millie pulled herself higher on her chair. It was hard seeing the usually carefree Zoe so upset. She took off her sunglasses and thought rapidly. ‘It’s not a mess at all,’ she said, with a calmness she certainly didn’t feel. Goodness only knew, she wasn’t the person to counsel a seventeen-year-old. She thought back to how everything had seemed so black and white when she was in sixth form. A place at university to study, like Zoe, English literature. Weekend clubbing with best friend Dora, going out with Rick. The future rolling out in front of her. A golden time, glistening with promise and uncomplicated freedom. And then the car accident. And everything had burnt to ashes. Rick off to Manchester, Dora to drama school in London. And she’d stayed in Berecombe to pick up the shattered fragments of her parents’ lives. She shook her head. No good thinking like that. She glanced at Zoe waiting desperately for advice. Was she projecting her own lost ambitions onto her? Possibly. But it would be a crime for Zoe not to go to university. She was far cleverer than Millie had been at the same age. And had far fewer responsibilities. She should go!
‘Zoe – you could have it all.’
‘How?’ Zoe blew her nose hard into a tissue, making Trevor start.
‘Go to Durham, if you get the grades, that is.’
‘Millie!’ Zoe was scornful. ‘’Course I’ll get the grades.’
‘Okay, then. Do your degree. The terms aren’t all that long. You can see Sean when you’re able and in the breaks you can work with Ken in his studio developing your art.’
Zoe subsided. ‘A compromise, then?’
‘Ah. I think that’s our friend Life’s speciality. That and horse-riding,’ Millie added.
‘Sounds like hard work.’
‘That’s Life’s other surprise. Most of it is bloody hard work.’
‘Thanks, Mil. You really know how to cheer a girl up.’ Zoe was gloomy.
‘Anytime.’ Millie made to get up – there was a cider and sultana cake waiting to come out of the oven – but stopped and took Zoe’s hand in hers. ‘Talk to your parents, though, won’t you? Talk it through with them.’
‘And Sean.’
‘Of course. Sean too. Good girl.’
‘Millie,’ Zoe protested. ‘I’m nearly eighteen. All growed up.’
‘So you are, Zoe,’ Millie said softly. ‘So you are.’