Read Online The Cherry Tree Cafe by Heidi Swain - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heidi Swain
Ads: Link
sitting room. On closer inspection even the damp patch wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting.
‘I reckon that could be the result of the dodgy guttering,’ Ben frowned, nodding at Tom as they followed me back into the bedroom, ‘and now that’s been sorted, I reckon
if the room’s given a decent airing and some gentle heat, it’ll sort itself.’
‘Yeah,’ said Tom, running his hand over the wall, ‘I reckon you could be right.’
‘There you are then!’ I smiled at Jemma who was standing in the doorway. ‘Happy days. It’s not quite what I’ve grown accustomed to . . .’
I was just about to add that it was even better because it was so homely, but out of the corner of my eye I spotted Ben rolling his eyes. Was I imagining it or was he still pissed off with me?
It wasn’t my fault if Jemma and Tom had taken onboard my cheap and cheerful makeover suggestions over his, was it? I watched him walk past her out of the room and turned my attention back to
Jemma, who was looking at me expectantly.
‘. . . and that’s exactly why I love it!’ I said. ‘This is going to be perfect. Living over the Café will keep me on my toes. It’s going to be so busy and
exciting that I won’t have a chance to sit and brood about everything else that’s happened.’
Jemma stepped forward and gave me a hug.
‘I just want you to be happy,’ she said tearfully.
‘I will be,’ I told her, squeezing her back, ‘just give me time, OK?’
Mercifully the flat walls were painted, not papered, and the carpets would be fine after a good steam clean. I lingered in the kitchen and pictured myself hanging up the bunting I had made
whilst the guys had another go at tempting the boiler, which was housed in a cupboard at the top of the stairs, back to life.
‘It is small,’ said Jemma as she squeezed into the kitchen with me, ‘but it’s a start, isn’t it? I know you’ve been used to all that space . . .’ her
voice trailed off as she looked over at me. I knew she was trying to decide if she was pushing her luck.
‘To tell you the truth,’ I shrugged, ‘I never really liked the place. It never felt like home.’
‘Not even with Giles there?’ she ventured.
‘Not even then,’ I admitted.
The boiler refused to succumb to the guys’ ministrations and as the flat was beginning to feel colder than outside, we admitted defeat and headed back to collect Ella.
‘I’ll get Bob Skipper who sorted the Café heating to have a look at it on Monday morning, Lizzie,’ said Tom.
‘Good idea,’ said Jemma.
‘If I’d known you were coming a bit sooner, I would have got him to sort it when he was here before, but not to worry. However, it does leave us with another problem,’ he
continued, shaking his head, ‘this means you’re gonna be stuck with us for a couple more days at least!’
I’d already thought of that.
‘You’re going to be stuck with me, you mean. Jemma, shall I phone my mum and see if I can go there until the flat defrosts?’
My suggestion was met by a sharp intake of breath from all sides.
‘No, you certainly shall not!’ Jemma was first to pipe up. ‘The whole point of you being here is to rest and recuperate, not endure a grilling.’
Even Ben nodded in agreement.
‘Take my word for it, Lizzie; you aren’t strong enough for that yet.’
I’d already guessed that Ben’s mother and mine were shelled from the same pod but I still couldn’t shake off the feeling that everything he said to me was a thinly veiled
criticism.
‘Ben’s right,’ Tom joined in, clearly not feeling the same sting from his friend’s words as I did, ‘give yourself at least a fighting chance! Hey, Jemma, how about
we send Ella off to your mum’s tonight and head down to the Mermaid?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I began to protest, ‘you just said I needed to “give myself a fighting chance” – I’m not ready to face a pub full of locals
yet!’
‘Band-aid treatment. I’ve done it,
‘I reckon that could be the result of the dodgy guttering,’ Ben frowned, nodding at Tom as they followed me back into the bedroom, ‘and now that’s been sorted, I reckon
if the room’s given a decent airing and some gentle heat, it’ll sort itself.’
‘Yeah,’ said Tom, running his hand over the wall, ‘I reckon you could be right.’
‘There you are then!’ I smiled at Jemma who was standing in the doorway. ‘Happy days. It’s not quite what I’ve grown accustomed to . . .’
I was just about to add that it was even better because it was so homely, but out of the corner of my eye I spotted Ben rolling his eyes. Was I imagining it or was he still pissed off with me?
It wasn’t my fault if Jemma and Tom had taken onboard my cheap and cheerful makeover suggestions over his, was it? I watched him walk past her out of the room and turned my attention back to
Jemma, who was looking at me expectantly.
‘. . . and that’s exactly why I love it!’ I said. ‘This is going to be perfect. Living over the Café will keep me on my toes. It’s going to be so busy and
exciting that I won’t have a chance to sit and brood about everything else that’s happened.’
Jemma stepped forward and gave me a hug.
‘I just want you to be happy,’ she said tearfully.
‘I will be,’ I told her, squeezing her back, ‘just give me time, OK?’
Mercifully the flat walls were painted, not papered, and the carpets would be fine after a good steam clean. I lingered in the kitchen and pictured myself hanging up the bunting I had made
whilst the guys had another go at tempting the boiler, which was housed in a cupboard at the top of the stairs, back to life.
‘It is small,’ said Jemma as she squeezed into the kitchen with me, ‘but it’s a start, isn’t it? I know you’ve been used to all that space . . .’ her
voice trailed off as she looked over at me. I knew she was trying to decide if she was pushing her luck.
‘To tell you the truth,’ I shrugged, ‘I never really liked the place. It never felt like home.’
‘Not even with Giles there?’ she ventured.
‘Not even then,’ I admitted.
The boiler refused to succumb to the guys’ ministrations and as the flat was beginning to feel colder than outside, we admitted defeat and headed back to collect Ella.
‘I’ll get Bob Skipper who sorted the Café heating to have a look at it on Monday morning, Lizzie,’ said Tom.
‘Good idea,’ said Jemma.
‘If I’d known you were coming a bit sooner, I would have got him to sort it when he was here before, but not to worry. However, it does leave us with another problem,’ he
continued, shaking his head, ‘this means you’re gonna be stuck with us for a couple more days at least!’
I’d already thought of that.
‘You’re going to be stuck with me, you mean. Jemma, shall I phone my mum and see if I can go there until the flat defrosts?’
My suggestion was met by a sharp intake of breath from all sides.
‘No, you certainly shall not!’ Jemma was first to pipe up. ‘The whole point of you being here is to rest and recuperate, not endure a grilling.’
Even Ben nodded in agreement.
‘Take my word for it, Lizzie; you aren’t strong enough for that yet.’
I’d already guessed that Ben’s mother and mine were shelled from the same pod but I still couldn’t shake off the feeling that everything he said to me was a thinly veiled
criticism.
‘Ben’s right,’ Tom joined in, clearly not feeling the same sting from his friend’s words as I did, ‘give yourself at least a fighting chance! Hey, Jemma, how about
we send Ella off to your mum’s tonight and head down to the Mermaid?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I began to protest, ‘you just said I needed to “give myself a fighting chance” – I’m not ready to face a pub full of locals
yet!’
‘Band-aid treatment. I’ve done it,
Similar Books
