Stirred with Love (7 page)

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Authors: Marcie Steele

BOOK: Stirred with Love
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‘Somerley please. Church Square, number 11.’

‘Nice town. My daughter lives there. Riley Street. I’m sure you’ll find it. Somerley ain’t that big a place.’

Kate had heard something similar herself. In Brentside, people would be charging around on their dinner breaks, rushing to stand in another queue in another shop, trying to shove a sandwich in their mouth, to make sure their lunch break was lived to its full potential. There’d be bank queues every Friday when everyone rushed out to spend their weeks wage before declaring themselves broke by Sunday night.

 Somerley, she assumed correctly, wasn’t that big. She’d read that the town was located in the north-eastern and highest part of the city, and was more of a district really. Although it covered a huge area, it was a drive-through-to-get-to kind of place rather than a park-up-to-shop. To her, it seemed somewhere that would come alive during the day but, once the majority of nine ‘til five working hours had been completed, would become silent quite quickly. Although living in a larger town would attract a good deal of clientele for the new business venture, Kate would hate to think that she was living somewhere that poured lager louts out onto her street every night.

On the spur of the moment at the beginning of the week, it had been a great idea to book another day off work and travel to a job interview where she could get board and lodgings thrown in with a little left over for a good time. But now, as the taxi moved slowly along the road, Kate’s stomach began to flip around like a full load of washing.

What if Nick missed her and wanted to come back after a few weeks?

But surely this was why moving away was such a good idea? It would never be the same again, Kate knew that, but if she bumped into him all the time, she might weaken. Then where would they be in two years time? Exactly where they are now, but with two more years of anger and pain.

She delved into her handbag as they inched forward in the traffic, pulled out the newspaper cutting and read the advert that had caught her attention two weeks ago. Yet again, she wondered if she had the right credentials. Her job as a project officer meant that she had to be a self starter, have the sheer discipline to keep going – or even worse, scrap something and start over if it wasn’t panning out well. She was known to be reliable and kept to deadlines on every project plan that bore her name against an action, something that she hoped might meet the approval of the woman she had spoken to over the phone.

Lily Mortimer hadn’t gone into detail about what the cafe looked like. She’d given Kate a little background about its past and asked if she was still interested in a challenge. The word challenge had been the carrot. Working in a café seemed unlikely to stimulate her but, if she could get the woman interested in her business plan, who knows?

 

The row of terraced properties that Kate was dropped in front of seemed passé but fitted well in their surroundings of mature blocks and factories nearby. Number eleven was the only one with double fronted access, two half-glass panelled doors at its middle, and set back from the pavement. Either side of the doors, there were two windows. To her left, the spacious bay window had a low wall beneath it. The wall on the right side a few bricks higher, almost level with the panel in the doors, had a straight pane of glass above it. The paved area in front of the cafe, although in need of a good wash down with a heavy-duty power hose, would be perfect, she thought, if they could get permission to put out a few tables.

The properties either side had small enclosed courtyards, each surrounded by a three-foot high wall. There was a chiropodist next door, a dentist, and a firm of solicitors who had taken over three properties and knocked them through into one huge block. Kate noticed curtains at a couple of the remaining properties and wondered if they were residential.

Once inside, the space captured her heart. It needed time and money spending on it to bring it up to date, but Kate could see it was well worth doing. And, as the meeting got under way, positive thoughts began to replace the doubts she’d had this morning with an image of a brighter future.

‘So,’ Lily finished Kate’s interview with the same question she had asked all the applicants. ‘Do you feel the same way now as you did when you first came through the door?’

‘Yes, but at the moment it’s like,’ Kate stopped until she found the right words, ‘time has stood still.’

‘It’s badly in need of something to lighten it up,’ Lily concurred. ‘Bring life back into it.’

‘Did you have anything in mind?’

‘I was rather hoping that you would have some suggestions.’

‘Well.’ Kate opened the folder she had brought with her and leaned forward. ‘I’ve put together a project plan with the information that you gave me over the phone. I did a bit of research on the internet about Somerley, scoping the competition, that type of thing. There seem to be a lot of factories and industrial estates near to. I think they’d be our target market. There are a couple of pubs, a chip-shop, plus a sandwich shop. But what I didn’t see was anything special in the line of coffees.’

‘Go on,’ said Lily, already intrigued.

‘My suggestion would be to open a coffee shop. Not just an ordinary run of the mill coffee and cake shop, but one that specialises in coffee. Different aromas and strengths to try, along with different cakes and fancies. We could also sell sandwiches and jacket potatoes to catch the lunchtime trade.

‘I think high-quality coffees would sell themselves. We’d only need to stock up on the regular ones and have the others in small doses so they’re always available. We could have coffee with whipped cream and flakes of chocolate. Coffee with a liqueur of your choice. Our own hand blended mixtures. Our own coffee shop special even.’

‘That seems a workable idea.’ Lily signalled for her to stop talking for the moment. ‘I see you’ve thought this through before you came.’

‘Yes, and that’s why I think it also needs a really good name. Something to ensure it stands out.’

Lily didn’t try to hide her delight. Even though it had been a while since the advert had been put into the paper, she knew she’d been right to invite Kate for an interview as soon as she’d heard her talking on the telephone. She’d had a polite and charming manner about her then.

‘Well, I don’t know what you’ve sold the most,’ she beamed. ‘Yourself or your ideas. Would you be interested in the supervisory position I mentioned?’

Kate’s stomach lurched forward and she tried to slow her breathing. She knew she was being silly but she hadn’t felt this excited in ages. This woman was giving her the opportunity to be there from the beginning of a new venture. She’d be able to have some say in the remodelling of the décor, choosing the new menu and variety of coffees. She’d be able to help with the promotion and build up of the business. And she’d be able to have a new start, away from Brentside, away from the house, away from the memories and, most of all, away from Nick. She had to give it a chance, even if it turned out to be a temporary thing.

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘I would be.’

‘Good, then I’d like to welcome you to my coffee shop. Is there anything else you’d like to ask before you leave to catch your train?’

‘Actually,’ Kate opened the folder again and pulled out the photograph of Rosie she’d pushed in at the back. ‘There is one small item I need to discuss.’

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘Here’s to you then, Chloe.’ Ben raised his pint glass high in the air. ‘May the female of the family be a successful servant.’

‘It’s a waitress, actually,’ his sister corrected him as she touched her glass to his. ‘And I’m going to be the best and the cutest by far.’

They were sat in Carlo’s Pizza House. Chloe had chosen it as her farewell dining treat before she left for Somerley that Sunday afternoon. It had been a favourite of her mums and one she knew kept the memories alive for all three of them. The fact that it hadn’t changed over the years was an instant appeal. She’d always liked its simple sense of style, right down to the gingham checked table cloths and wooden chairs with raffia matting that criss-crossed the back of your legs if your skirt was too short. Plastic ivy entwined itself realistically around the window frames, and café nets added a touch of privacy from the passing crowds.

The overpowering smell of garlic brought her back to the present. Even at seven-thirty, most of the tables were full of diners.

 ‘What time will Dad be here?’ Chloe asked. She reached across the table for a chunk of Ciabatta bread.

Ben gently slapped her hand away. ‘You know you never finish your meal if you start picking now.’

Ignoring his remark, Chloe grabbed the bread anyway and ferociously ripped it into two.

‘He’ll be finished around eight. He’s told me to order champagne.’

Chloe threw him a look. ‘He isn’t glad to see me off, you know.’

‘Clever girl,’ Ben teased, and then his tone changed. ‘I still think you should have invited Maddy.’

Although Graham’s arrival saved her from the usual lecture, Chloe didn’t need reminding of her childish behaviour. She’d regretted not inviting her the minute she’d told Graham of her decision. It had been so obvious he was trying to hide his disappointment at her failure to at least try and understand how important Maddy was to him. But instead of relenting, Chloe had explained how she’d wanted it to be just the three of them. She’d almost gone back on her word when she saw how miserable it had made him, almost.

Ben got up to meet his dad halfway across the room. Chloe smiled. She loved to see men shaking hands. It seemed such an intimate gesture.

Graham kissed her cheek, his eyes scanning lightly over the low cut of her green
top. ‘You look fabulous as usual,’ he remarked with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment as there was too much of his daughter’s cleavage on show for his liking. ‘I suppose you’ve ordered a calzone?’

‘You know me so well,’ Chloe answered. All guilty thoughts around her treatment of Maddy disappeared.

‘I do, my little one,’ Graham smiled, all thoughts of her treatment of Maddy still at the forefront of his mind. He handed her a colourful, squishy parcel. ‘Present from Maddy. She says you can swap it if you don’t like it, but she usually knows your taste.’

Chloe opened the tissue paper carefully. Inside was a halter neck top she had been looking at in a magazine the other day. Maddy must have noticed her coveting it.

‘Do you like it?’ asked Graham.

‘It’s okay,’ Chloe fibbed, her cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment. She might not like Maddy but she definitely liked the top. Ben raised his eyebrows knowingly but she ignored him as she wrapped it up again, making sure it was put out of harms way. She didn’t want anything to spill over that, thank you very much.

‘I can’t believe you’ll be leaving at the weekend.’ Graham sat down and pulled in his chair. ‘I’m going to miss you so much.’

Chloe threw her brother another look, this time one of contempt. Then suddenly the enormity of what she was about to do hit her. She stared at her dad as he studied the menu, his tie hung loosely around his neck, the stress of his day gently easing away as he entered into conversation with his son. She watched her brother as he relayed his working day to his father, giving her a wink as he caught her looking in his direction. Her eyes began to fill up, a heavy feeling hit her hard in the chest. Trying to concentrate on the words of an Elton John song playing quietly in the background, she gulped down a mouthful of wine.

‘Hey.’ Graham tilted her chin and wiped away the lone tear that had escaped with his thumb. ‘You’ll be fine without us.’

‘Sure you will,’ said Ben, for the first time witnessing how nervous Chloe was about leaving. ‘You’ll be having too much fun to think of us.’

‘My life’s not all fun,’ Chloe responded indignantly. ‘I can be taken seriously once in a while.’

Ben and Graham laughed so loud that even the chef stopped twirling the pizza dough around in his hands. Chloe opened her mouth to answer back, but instead picked up her digital camera.

‘Let’s have a group photo.’ She signalled for the waiter. ‘I need something to remind me of your ugly mugs when you’re not around to gang up on me.’

Ben came around to their side of the table and stood between them as they raised their champagne glasses in another toast.

‘To Chloe,’ they both cried as Chloe tried hard not to.

 

At quarter past eight that same night, Kate sat on the settee in her living room. Nick sat opposite her in the armchair.

‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea,’ he told her.

‘It’s a solution to our problem. I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘I’m pleased about moving back in here again.’

‘Well, let’s try it then.’ Kate sat forward. ‘I’ll go to Somerley for a month, see if things work out. You move back in and if I don’t like it, I’ll come back and we’ll sell the place, split the proceeds.’

‘I can’t see why we can’t sell it straightaway,’ said Nick.

Kate sighed. ‘Please. It’s only four weeks I’m asking for. I just can’t do this without knowing I have a back up plan.’

 ‘But giving up your job? To work in a café?’

‘It’s a coffee shop actually.’

‘Café, coffee shop, whatever. I just can’t see you –’

‘Don’t you think time apart might do us both good?’

 ‘No. You just don’t want our marriage to be over. That isn’t a reason for us to stick at it.’

Kate paused then, knowing he was right. She’d realised as soon as he’d set foot in the house that evening that it had felt different. There had been no fireworks, no ticker tape, like she had expected – like she had wanted even. And, although she had every right to feel sorry for herself because she’d been abandoned again, it wasn’t his fault. She had to sort that one out for herself.

‘Maybe it’s the thought of you with someone else that I can’t stand,’ she admitted that much to him.

Nick shrugged. ‘Maybe. Look, I’m sorry about pouncing on you the other night. Splitting up doesn’t mean I’ve stopped wanting what we had, wishing it could work again…like you do.’

Kate nodded, fighting the urge to run and drape her arms around him. Part of her just wanted everything to be normal again. It would be much easier that way. But after she’d returned from her interview with Lily Mortimer, she’d had a feeling that she was going to be okay. It was simply a matter of time. And what Nick was saying now made complete sense to her. She needed to understand that
she
hadn’t failed to keep their marriage together. They’d both played a big part.

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