Spring Beginnings Page 7

  Sean agreed with a muttered, ‘Well sick.’

  Zoe sniggered at him. She turned to Millie. ‘Do you want the bad news or the really bad news?’ She pushed a coffee over.

  Millie couldn’t trust herself to answer. She took a sip of her latte instead. It was delicious. Pinching off some muffin she found that was good too.

  Zoe, watching her with concern, said, ‘That’s the one bit of bad news. The coffee and cake is good. The other bad news is they’ve got a barista from Rome.’ Her eyes widened. ‘A real-life Italian barista here in Berecombe. And to top all that, he’s bloody gorg!’

  Millie pushed her food away. How could she hope to compete with all this? She felt like crying.

  Zoe put her hand on hers. ‘Don’t worry, Mil,’ she said stoutly. ‘It’s busy today ’cos people are getting freebies. And there’s the novelty value, of course. But it won’t last. Things will settle down.’

  ‘Will they?’

  ‘’Course they will. Can’t see old Biddy or Granddad in here, can you? Or the knitting circle.’ She leaned closer. ‘And here’s the killer, they don’t let dogs in. That’ll reduce their trade by at least half come the tourist season. Chillax, Mil.’

  Millie looked around. At the happy faces, at the buzzy atmosphere, at the children running about trailing blue balloons. Looking at the glossy dark-wood tables, the chandelier tinkling from the ceiling, the state of the art coffee-making machines, she despaired. In comparison, Millie Vanilla’s seemed all at once dated, shabby and insufferably twee.

  Her misery was interrupted by Sean exclaiming he’d just seen his mum go through a door marked ‘Private’, accompanied by a bloke in a suit. Millie’s mood worsened. What the hell was Tessa doing here? And, more importantly, what was she doing having talks with the enemy?

  Chapter 15

  ‘Right,’ she said, a week later, to her audience of Arthur, Zoe, Sean and Biddy, plus a snoozing Trevor and Elvis, ‘I need an action plan!’

  She’d spent all week poring over the net and making muddled notes, but wasn’t much closer to coming up with a cohesive plan. All she’d succeeded in doing was having long, restless nights tossing and turning. Usually her white and gull-grey decorated bedroom was her sanctuary. She’d deliberately painted it soothing, calming colours so it would be a quieter comparison to the café’s more frantic decoration downstairs. But since going to Blue Elephant’s launch, sleep had evaded her. She’d lain awake until the first heavy steps and squawks of the herring gulls sounded on the roof. Then she’d fallen into an uncomfortably heavy slumber punctured by weird dreams of Jed running up and down Blue Elephant’s spiral staircase.

  This morning, she’d woken, unrefreshed, to a turquoise sea and a sun so bright it hurt her eyes. It seemed Arthur was right, spring was determinedly on its way. And, with the better weather, came tourists. It was time to do something positive.

  ‘We need an action plan,’ declared Arthur, his eyes gleaming. ‘We’ll show the buggers.’

  ‘Way to go, Granddad!’ giggled Zoe.

  He harrumphed and pushed his specs back up his face. ‘Yes well, you know what I mean.’

  Despite the sunny weather, her little gang of faithfuls had congregated in the café to discuss what could be done.

  There had been a noticeable dent in Millie’s trade already. The café had been deserted for much of the week. Once the season proper began, she anticipated she’d still be popular with tourists using the beach, but those window-shopping in town would favour Blue Elephant. She just hoped her dog-friendly policy would bring in a few customers turned away from the new boy on the block. The real crowning glory was Millie Vanilla’s sun terrace and its uninterrupted views across the bay. Once the weather really warmed up, it would be a huge asset – and one that a converted bank building most definitely lacked.

  To Millie’s disappointment, most of her regulars had jumped ship already. The Yummy Mummies hadn’t been seen all week and the knitting circle had been lured away by the promise of cheap pensioners’ specials. Even Zoe’s gang of girls seemed to prefer Blue Elephant. Zoe, however, was confident they’d return. Clare had reported back that staff actively pushed additional orders, asking if a giant cookie or slice of cheesecake was needed to go with their hot chocolate – and getting stroppy when their suggestions were refused. To make matters worse, in Clare’s opinion, the staff had made it clear that once everything had been eaten and drunk, customers should make themselves scarce. It turned out Blue Elephant wasn’t tolerant of a group of schoolgirls loitering over one drink all afternoon.

  Stick all that in your trendy pipe and smoke it, Millie had thought. Even with your hot Italian barista, the fight is on!

  Buoyed by the realisation that not all was perfect in the rival camp, Millie distributed coffee, tea, hot chocolate, a specially made upside-down pineapple cake and dog biscuits and called the meeting to order. She outlined a few thoughts but explained she was open to anything they could suggest.

  ‘So, anyone got any ideas? Anything to say?’

  ‘Cake’s brilliant,’ Sean said, through a mouthful.

  ‘Not quite what I had in mind, Sean, but thank you for the compliment.’

  ‘Cheaper prices,’ Biddy yelled out, making Trevor jump. ‘Or free things?’

  ‘Good point, giveaways always go down well,’ Zoe agreed.

  ‘I can’t do that indefinitely, Millie pointed out. ‘I haven’t got the luxury of the profit margins Blue Elephant will have.’

  ‘Could you buy any supplies in more cheaply, my dear?’

  ‘No, Arthur. That’s one thing I’m not compromising on. Organic produce and homemade food. That’s what people know me for.’

  ‘And quite rightly so.’ Arthur put his hand on Millie’s. ‘But I’m happy to have a look at your accounts. See where economies can be made.’

  ‘Thanks, Arthur. I’d appreciate that. I’m pretty good at them, but a fresh pair of eyes might help.’

  ‘Ice-cream in the summer?’ Sean put in.

  Millie pulled a gloomy face. ‘I don’t want to encroach on the Icicle Works,’ she said, referring to the ice-cream parlour. ‘And besides, I don’t want to wait until the summer before getting anything new going.’ She paused, thinking. ‘I could add in an ice-cream option with my apple pie or fresh strawberry tart, though, couldn’t I? Good idea, Sean!’

  Sean blushed rosily and concentrated on eating his cake.

  ‘What about themed weeks?’ Zoe added. ‘You know, something to go with Valentine’s Day.’ At this she and Sean glanced at each other and giggled.

  ‘That’s an interesting idea,’ Millie said, slowly. ‘What sort of thing did you have in mind?’

  Zoe shrugged. ‘I dunno. Heart-shaped biscuits?’

  ‘Pink iced cupcakes?’ Sean said. As his reward Zoe hugged his arm to her and kissed him soundly on the cheek.

  ‘Love Heart sweeties on the tables,’ Biddy added, somewhat unexpectedly.

  ‘And heart patterns in the froth on the coffee!’ Zoe said, bouncing on her seat with excitement. ‘It could so work! Clare and the gang would love it.’

  ‘And it wouldn’t cost too much extra on top of your usual outgoings,’ Arthur added, ever practical.

  ‘Sean and me could do up some flyers,’ Zoe said. ‘Could easily do some A5 ads on the Mac.’

  Millie looked at her loyal group of friends with gratitude. Tears welling, she reached out and grasped the hands of Arthur and Zoe, those nearest to her. ‘Oh, you guys. You’re amazing.’

  ‘There’s Chinese New Year and Pancake Day, Easter and –’

  Millie cut Zoe off. ‘Oh, my lovely, that’s great but,’ at this she paused, ‘I really don’t want to seem ungrateful, I really don’t, but as fantastic an idea as themed weeks are, I don’t think they’d be enough. I need a really big event to re-launch Millie Vanilla’s.’

  ‘A party,’ Sean said. ‘That’s what you need. A party.’ His eyes became enormous. ‘A huge party!’

  Everyone star
ed at him. Sean’s usual utterings were infrequent and monosyllabic but he’d been inspired during this meeting.

  ‘What sort of thing did you have in mind?’ Millie asked. ‘I can’t really see myself hosting a rave or anything like that.’

  ‘Mil,’ Zoe said scornfully, ‘that’s so over.’

  ‘Yes, well, you know what I mean.’

  ‘We don’t want any of that kind of trouble,’ Biddy sniffed.

  Sean shifted in his seat and pushed his plate away. ‘Nah, we could have a beach party, here like.’

  ‘Ooh, ooh, ooh, a Valentine’s Beach Party,’ Zoe squeaked. ‘It would be cooler than a very cool thing!’

  Millie looked from one young eager face to another. ‘Now that might be an idea.’

  ‘Or a tea dance?’ Biddy’s voice boomed into her thoughts.

  ‘What an excellent idea,’ Arthur said, in rare agreement.

  ‘Oh, Granddad, a party would be better than some naff dance! Can we have fireworks at the end?’ Zoe sneaked a glance at Sean. ‘It would be sooooo romantic.’

  Biddy began to protest that young people wanted it all their own way and had they any idea how many older folk would appreciate a good old-fashioned afternoon of dancing? Zoe began to argue back and then Arthur tried to mediate.

  Millie heard it all as if muffled, through water. Ideas were tumbling into her head so fast and furiously she could barely make sense of them all. ‘Let’s do both!’ she announced. At their stunned silence, she explained. ‘We’ll start with a tea dance in the afternoon, lovely Valentine’s-themed cupcakes –’

  ‘What did you say? Cupcakes?’ Biddy bellowed. ‘They were called fairy cakes in my day.’

  ‘Alright Biddy, fairy cakes. Lots of lovely good-quality tea, scones and clotted cream –’

  ‘And jam,’ Arthur put in.

  ‘And jam, of course. From Small’s. Strawberry. My Victoria sponge –’

  ‘Oh, your sponge is lush,’ Zoe added.

  ‘Thank you, Zoe. Dress code pretty dresses and smart casual for the men.’

  ‘With ties.’

  ‘With ties, of course, Arthur. And then we roll into a beach party for later. Let’s hope the good weather keeps up.’ Millie stopped. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I don’t have an alcohol licence.’

  ‘Alcohol’s so over, Mil,’ Zoe said. ‘Isn’t it, Sean?’

  Sean didn’t look as certain. ‘I can get hay bales to sit on,’ he offered. ‘I know George Small.’

  Millie nodded. ‘Thank you, Sean, that’s a fab idea. I’ve got a really good recipe for pink-coloured fruit punch. We could serve that instead.’

  ‘The tea-dancers would like that too, I reckon,’ Biddy suggested. ‘I’ve got a recipe for a slut-red raspberry and chardonnay jelly you could use. One of Nigella’s that is. Ooh, I’m looking forward to this. Reminds me of the good old days with the girls. We used to have some rare old parties.’

  Millie looked askance at Biddy. She often mentioned ’her girls’. Fellow office workers, she assumed. She knew Arthur had been an accountant, but wasn’t sure what Biddy had done as a career. The slut-red jelly had come as a surprise. She put her hand on the older woman’s. ‘I’m glad you’re looking forward to it.’

  ‘And we can have heart-shaped ice cubes!’

  ‘Yes, Zoe, we might be able to manage those too.’ Millie grinned at the teenager. ‘What about those fireworks?’

  ‘I can sort all the paperwork for that, my dear,’ Arthur offered. ‘Consider it done. Dennis at the council owes me a few favours.’

  Millie looked at her band of friends with affection. A motley bunch they might be, but none were more loyal. ‘I can’t tell you how much your support means to me.’ Her voice quavered. ‘It’ll be a new beginning for Millie Vanilla’s.’

  ‘Well, spring’s the right season for new beginnings, isn’t it?’

  Millie replaced her hand over the older woman’s. ‘It is, Biddy. It is.’

  ‘Millie,’ Arthur began and then cleared his throat before continuing. ‘Millie, I don’t think you realise how much affection the town has for you. And for the memory of your dear parents too. I think you’ll find once folk realise what they might be about to lose you’ll have people flocking to the parties. Both of them.’

  ‘Thank you, Arthur,’ Millie said through her tears. ‘Thank you everybody.’ There was a pause before she pulled herself together. Finding an unused serviette she blew her nose. ‘To a new Millie Vanilla’s!’ she announced, with a raised pink, flowery teacup. ‘To spring beginnings!’

  ‘To spring beginnings!’ Sean and Zoe chorused.

  ‘To a new Millie Vanilla’s,’ added Arthur and Biddy in perfect unison. They caught one another’s eyes and there was much blushing and coughing and chinking of pink china.

  Millie watched them out of the corner of her eye. Was it possible? Was it just possible there was a romance going on between the bickering pair? How intriguing – and delightful! Then something hammered all matchmaking – and enthusiasm for a re-launch – out of her. She looked around at the café. At the shabby chairs and chipped tables. At the sea-shell mural, which she had once loved and which now looked so tired. At the scuffed lino on the floor.

  ‘What am I going to do about how this place looks, though?’ she sighed, putting her head in her hands. ‘How on earth am I going to get it looking as good as Blue Elephant?’

  Chapter 16

  The weather continued to improve. Despite it being only February, an early spring had definitely sprung. In celebration and relief, people shed their heavy coats and emerged in butterfly-bright t-shirts. The sunshine and warmth brought out happy smiles and relaxed the hunched shoulders of winter.

  In anticipation of the good weather bringing in tourists, the town opened up, like a flower to the sun, for the new season. Nico scrubbed down his ice-cream kiosk and furiously polished the windows. The Plaice Place extended its opening hours, sending waves of hot chips-and-vinegar scent enticingly across the harbour end of town. Those lucky enough to own a beach hut began the annual clean and paint routine and hung bunting across the doors before settling down for a rest with a book and a flask of tea.

  Early one morning, before the town had properly woken up, Millie stood on the café’s sun terrace breathing in the mild salty air and raising her head to the sky. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the lull and swell of the sea as its rhythm beat through her. The sun warmed her face and there was a cackle of a gull swooping overhead. Even the bird sounded relieved that the long winter was over. Spring was here. She could smell it. Trevor barked in excitement and she heard his claws scrabbling on the sandy concrete, scampering to greet someone. Opening her eyes, her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Jed watching her.

  ‘I’m sorry, I disturbed you. I caught you day-dreaming.’ He grinned and pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head.

  He wore skinny chinos and a pink polo shirt, a sweater rolled loosely around his shoulders. He looked just like what he was – privileged and wealthy. He could have stepped straight out of a Boden catalogue. His effect on her was so acute, she said the first thing she could think of, ‘I was wondering if it was time to put some chairs and tables out here.’ She cursed herself. As if he’d be interested.

  In this, it seemed, she was wrong. Replacing his glasses, he came forward, nodding. ‘Absolutely, it’s definitely warm enough, or it will be later in the day. You’re always up so early. It’s barely gone eight.’ He bent to fuss Trevor, who was going into ecstasies at seeing him.

  Millie laughed. ‘The alarm goes off at five. I’ve already walked Trevor and baked today’s specials.’

  ‘Oh, how I hate the smug early-riser! More importantly, what are your specials? I’m starving.’

  ‘As ever! I’ve a red-velvet chocolate and beetroot cake, some coffee and walnut and a batch of savoury scones.’

  Pushing Trevor off gently, Jed came even closer. He stared intently at her lips and ran a finger lightly over them. ‘I don’t kno
w how you do it, Millie. They sound so good. Have I ever told you how much I love your cooking? A real taste of home.’

  He bent and kissed her, his lips warm from the sun. ‘You taste of home.’

  This time Millie lifted her head and surrendered to Jed rather than the early-morning sunshine. And he was far more exhilarating. She let herself open and he deepened the kiss. Holding her around the waist, he pulled her in against his hardness. She thrust her fingers through his silken hair. She wanted to drown in him, in the sensations that were overwhelming her senses.

  Jed rested his forehead against hers for a moment. ‘Millie, Millie, Millie, you don’t know what you’re doing to me. I want to eat you up. I want to smother you in some of your famous clotted cream and lick it off.’

  Millie stood back, swaying slightly. She felt unhinged by longing. She knew she must look it. ‘Sounds messy,’ she whispered, in an attempt for control.

  Jed caught her to him again. ‘Oh, it would be delightfully, sinfully messy.’ He kissed her again. ‘And so much fun.’

  It was all threatening to get out of hand. Millie didn’t know whether to be furious when Tessa’s cheery voice interrupted them – or relieved.

  ‘Morning, kiddo. I’ll just go and put the bread inside then, shall I?’ She went past with a giggle.

  Peeling herself off Jed and giving him a regretful glance, Millie followed Tessa into the café.

  ‘I see you’re finally getting your fun, then, our Mil.’ Tessa slammed the basket of bread onto the nearest table.

  ‘Well I was.’ Millie pulled a face. ‘Before you so rudely interrupted.’

  ‘Soz.’ Tessa giggled and peered out to where Jed was playing with Trevor. He was leaning against the low wall that divided the sun terrace from the steps down to the beach and was trying to teach the dog to shake paws. ‘Heard he took you to some swanky-wanky place the other night. Zoe’s right, though, he’s a treat for the eyes. Get a load of those thighs. You could crack walnuts with them. Blimey.’