37
ANOTHER PERFECT SUMMER’Sday heralded the grand opening of the Hambleton Community Café. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the converted village hall. The brightly coloured bunting Margery had made for the fete hung in cheerful splendour alongside twinkling fairy lights, entwined along the beams. The glass countertops sparkled, soon to be filled with Helena’s baking. Squashy, inviting sofas covered in colourful cushions lined the walls alongside chunky wooden coffee tables and an eclectic mixture of upcycled tables and chairs. Helena felt so proud of the scene before her, she could burst. The finished effect of all that planning, all that hard work, was better than her wildest dreams had dared imagine. It felt modern yet cosy, welcoming and uplifting.
At eight o’clock, Eileen, the cleaner, came bustling through the door. ‘Morning, morning!’ she called out in her sing-song Welsh accent. ‘All ready for the big day?’
‘I hope so!’ Helena smiled nervously.
‘It looks wonderful, Helena. Truly. Just unrecognisable from the musty old useless space it was. I came in here once, you know, years ago, when it used to be a polling station. I can’t get over the transformation!’
‘It’s amazing what a lick of paint and a new kitchen can do,’ Helena agreed. She could barely remember the place as it had been herself. There was no question that it looked a thousand times more appealing since the works had been carried out.
As Eileen set to work, ensuring everything was spic and span for their first day of business, Helena laid out the cakes and cookies she had made the evening before. She took a tray of homemaderolls out of the oven, filling the room with the scent of freshly baked bread, and set them out on the cooling racks, putting the pastries she had just finished glazing in to bake. It was an hour until the café was due to open its doors for the first time, and Helena had been at it since the crack of dawn, determined to make her first day of business a success.
Dawn arrived at half past eight to help finish setting up, and at nine o’clock Helena unlocked the door and turned the small sign to ‘Open.’
‘That’s it! We’re officially open for business,’ she squealed as she joined Dawn behind the counter. Dawn’s pink hair coordinated perfectly with the sugar pink of the iced buns, the diamond stud in her nose glinting in the sunlight.
As Eileen slumped with a contented sigh onto one of the sofas with a well-deserved cup of tea, the door opened and Nathalie came in, fresh from the school run, followed swiftly by Johnny, Margery and Derek. Margery and Derek had become quite close in the weeks since they had met at the fete, they seemed to get on like a house on fire. Helena found herself hoping that perhaps they might fall in love, a second chance at such a late stage in life. What could be more romantic? Who knew what might happen? And all as a result of the café… She chattered away to her very prompt set of customers, thrilled to see them, even though she had practically begged them to turn up for moral support.
‘It looks incredible, Helena, truly,’ Johnny said as he paid for the round of coffees and pastries. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
Helena felt herself well up. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally here,’ she said.
‘You’ve done such an incredible job.’
‘I could never have done it without you. I owe you big time.’
‘I loved every second,’ Johnny said, and he looked as though he really meant it. ‘We make a good team, don’t you think?’
‘We do!’ Helena laughed, giving him a playful shove.
‘And as for owing me… I am sure I can come up with something!’ he said, winking at her. One thick dark eyebrow arched up towards his hairline. She loved how much his eyebrows moved when he talked. It was as if they had a mind of their own.
‘Oh yes?’ she laughed. Could he be flirting with her? She chided herself for wishful thinking.
As he was about to reply Nathalie barged over and interrupted, ‘I have to have a piece of that chocolate cake,’ she demanded. ‘It looks to die for! And the coffee is unbelievable,’ she added.
‘Oh really? I’m so glad you like it.’
‘Like it? I bloody love it! This place is going to bankrupt us all we’ll be in here so often.’ Nathalie laughed. ‘You’ve absolutely smashed it Helena.’
Before long, a steady trickle of real customers started to appear. Word of the café’s opening had clearly spread far and wide, as she had hoped it would. All the flyers and the big launch at the fete had clearly paid off. Interested to take a look at the newest local amenity, the punters kept on coming. Just as it had been at Coffee Stop, there was a real boom in the morning, for those seeking their caffeine hit, then another surge at lunch, followed by a big after school rush. Helena and Dawn took advantage of the quieter times to get on with baking, making soups and preparing the ingredients for their lunchtime menu of sandwiches and salads.
The day flew by, and before they knew it they were turning the sign back around to ‘Closed’ and beginning the clean down. Helena’s back ached, her list of teething problems to smooth out felt enormous, but she also felt an immense satisfaction. There had been no real disasters. Her thorough preparation and meticulous planning, along with Ahmed’s invaluable support and guidance, had paid off. The café had been full of customers, they had had impressive takings for their first day, much better than expected, and the reaction from all those who had crossed the threshold had been nothing but positive.
During the weeks since the fete Helena had been so busy she had barely had time to think about Noah, for which she was grateful. She had discovered that he had employed a woman called Sandra to do the housekeeping and childcare. His new job still requiredhim to be in the office every day. Clearly, Noah had had no choice but to trust someone else with his son, having always been anti-babysitters when Helena had been around. She was glad that the café was only open during the hours Noah was at work, so there was no chance of him popping in to catch her unawares. She still hated crossing paths with him if it wasn’t on her own terms. On the occasions she had bumped into them unexpectedly she had felt very uncomfortable. She could handle her weekend visits, because she felt in control of them, and had continued to spend an hour or two with Raffy each Sunday morning, quickly falling into a routine where she would pick him up, talk awkwardly with Noah for as short a time as she could manage, then take him back to Hazel Cottage. She had decided to teach Raffy how to bake and, without mentioning it to Noah, they made cupcakes or cookies, shortbread and muffins, just as she had done with her mum when she was little. It was strange how normal it had begun to feel already between them, as though their months apart had just melted away. Noah was sticking firmly to his chosen script, modelling measured, calm behaviour during all contact she had with him, presenting himself in the best possible light. It was bizarre, not to mention frustrating, to see how much he could do to run a household and organise Raffy when he chose to, though judging from the contents of his recycling boxes on the front porch he was using alcohol as a coping mechanism a little too liberally. And no doubt without Sandra, things would be an entirely different story. From what she could gather, she sounded like a force to be reckoned with, which was exactly what she needed to be to put up with an employer like Noah.
As the summer passed by, the café became more firmly established in the community day by day. Helena, Eileen, Dawn and the group of volunteers who worked there, including Jennie who was on her summer holidays, soon became a closely-knit team. Business boomed as parents cottoned onto the fact there was now a place with enough space for their kids to run around and make a mess outside of their own home. The puzzles and toys werea huge success, providing hours of entertainment. As was the small library they had built in the corner of the café, where people could donate and borrow books.
Johnny and Helena had worked together to replant the flower beds in front of the building, continuing Helena’s horticultural education, and they were now full to bursting with colour, butterflies and bees. They had scattered wildflower seeds around the pond, its banks now rife with wild poppies, cornflowers and cow parsley. Johnny had built an ingenious vertical herb garden out of old pallets along the side of the building, which people could help themselves to if they needed a sprig for their cooking, and which Helena used to garnish her quiches and salads. He had also built an insect hotel which was very popular with the kids, and some stepping stones made of logs of varying heights which toddlers in particular loved climbing over as a miniature obstacle course.
The baby playgroup was finally up and running. Nathalie had been instrumental at getting these sessions going, building them around what she would have loved to have had on offer when she was a stay-at-home mum with her three. Helena loved watching the parents and carers chat, listening to them share stories and sympathetic smiles as they found kindred spirits, all going through the same challenges as each other, happy to have a place to come to get themselves out of the house, and people to talk to who understood exactly what they were going through. It was just as she had hoped: all people needed was a place to go, to forge those connections that were so vital in the fight against loneliness.
Raffy and Sandra had become regular customers, playing board games (Raffy particularly loved the chess set Helena had bought), and attending the daily arts and craft sessions and cookery workshops. She was glad that Raffy had Sandra, who was very experienced with four grown-up children of her own and had a calm, loving energy. The café had proved to be a perfect place for Raffy to hang out with children his own age, without breaking Noah’s playdate ban. She loved watching him run about with hisfriends, entranced in whatever activity he was doing, or sitting with his nose buried in a book from their library while Sandra sipped a cup of tea and chatted away. She was fabulously indiscreet, knowing Helena’s history with Noah, and she certainly didn’t hold back on her opinions of him, but only when Raffy was out of earshot. She told Helena that she worried he drank too much, often finding empties when she cleared up the kitchen, which he apparently left in an absolute state every morning. Helena thought this was particularly ironic considering the trouble she would have been in if she had ever left a mess in the house. He hadn’t deigned to so much as touch the washing-up once in all the years they had been together. Clearly, he thought that should be someone else’s job, not his. At least none of it was her problem anymore, and she was more than happy to let Sandra vent to her if it helped her get it out of her system. She knew how frustrating Noah could be better than anyone.
Whenever Helena did see Noah, he was nothing but charming, courteous and respectful, never pushing her into doing anything she didn’t want to, but always extending invitations to stay for a drink, to join him for dinner, or to stay on for lunch whenever she dropped Raffy back home. She found herself having slightly longer conversations with him each time she saw him, whether they crossed paths in the village or when she delivered Raffy back from one of their playdates. She didn’t know what he did when she took Raffy off, but suspected he had a beer or two because on occasion he had seemed a little tipsy to her when she dropped Raffy back. Mindful of the slippery slope of his father’s addiction, she kept an eye on his recycling bin, but it never grew too full and she didn’t worry for Raffy being in his care. She had to hand it to him, his performance as the ‘changed man’ – if that’s what it was – was Oscar worthy. At times the act he was putting on made her question herself for a millisecond. Had she read too much into the letter she had found from Kate? What if he really had been buried in some dark depression following her death, acting out of character and taking his anger and suffering out on the personclosest to him? Perhaps it had been some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder? What if the therapy he had been having really had worked, just as she had always hoped that it might? What if he had made amends with his dad when he had gone back home to New Zealand and that had helped heal some of his childhood trauma? But every time she found herself making excuses for him, or buying into his bullshit, she reminded herself that it was nothing but an act. As soon as the question arose in her mind she would stamp it out just as quickly.
She had to admit she found it hard to try and maintain a cool, detached demeanour with him all the time. There was still so much emotion there, she had loved him so much, and for such a long time. As he had said that first time they had seen each other, Noah was clearly in it for the long haul, determined to prove that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he was waiting for her, and would wait for as long as it took for her to realise how much he had changed. It was a very strange situation to be in. One thing was for sure, she didn’t dare mention any of these fleeting, treacherous thoughts to Nathalie. Helena knew she definitely would not understand. And there was no way she would utter a word to Johnny. What Johnny and Helena shared felt in some ways sacred to her, her safe haven, he was the one person she felt most herself with. With Johnny she felt like the new Helena, she wouldn’t want him to think that she was in any way conflicted in her feelings towards Noah. Despite his first-hand experience from his break-up with Naomi, she worried that he wouldn’t understand the complexity of all the layers of emotion that lay between her and Noah. She suspected no one but them really could.
