Page 13

Gemma shook her head. “You didn’t come down then, Oscar,” she said. “The last time you were in Maldon was before Christmas.”

“No, are you sure? That can’t be right.”

For the first time, Gemma’s fury flickered. Of course, she knew he was getting old. He’d been old when she had taken over running the place, but she had seen so little of him in the last few years that she clearly hadn’t realised how much he’d aged. Somehow, despite not liking the way Kent had gone about practically anything so far, she suspected he was telling the truth about thinking Oscar had contacted her.

Resting her forehead on her hands, she let out a sigh that turned into a groan.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Gemma said. “You understand my problem, don’t you? You get why I’m mad?”

“I can see your point of view, Gemma. I can, but I do believe Kent is best for this business. Do you know he rang me as soon as he’d spoken to you, very concerned about how the workingrelationship is going to be? He does want this to go well, you know.”

Gemma didn’t reply.

“What about a trial? Eight weeks,” Oscar suggested. “You and Kent can try to work things out together for the next eight weeks, and then at the end of that, we’ll know better if it’s going to work.”

It wasn’t exactly what Gemma wanted. What she wanted was for Oscar to say he’d made a terrible mistake, Kent would be gone, and she could find somebody else of her choosing to employ, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. So, instead, she drew in a long breath and said, with more than a hint of resentment in her tone,

“I guess that’s what it will have to be, then.”

CHAPTER 18

Thank God he got hold of Oscar before Gemma did. That was the first thought that struck Kent as his uncle answered the call. The second was that he needed to put a plan in place, now that he knew Gemma had no idea what was going on. The truth would have been the easiest option. He should have ripped the bandage straight off when he told her he was running the place. He would have only needed a couple more words to explain the situation, but he couldn’t do it. His being there had already hurt her. He could see that. And the last thing he wanted to do was cause her more upset. Stupid, really. The truth would have to come out at some point, but after the conversation with his uncle, he knew it would stay under wraps for a little longer.

“Eight weeks. Can you do that for me, Uncle Oscar, please? And the thing about the C.V. You’ll need to tell her that, too.”

“I’m not happy about this,” he said. “We made an arrangement.”

“I know. And I’m handling it. I promise. This is the only thing I’ll ask of you. And you have to take a little of the responsibility for this mess too, you know.”

Oscar scoffed down the phone line, but Kent knew he’d agree to it. After all, he was equally to blame for the mess. If not more so.

It had felt serendipitous at the time. Kent had spent six months in Tokyo, learning the intricacies of Japanese pastries, when the realisation struck him. He had slept in a hotel room for six months and still had some clothes in his suitcase. Casual clothes. Jeans, shirts. Outfits to wear on nights out with friends, but he hadn’t made any. On the one hand, he had come to Tokyo to learn, and he had been doing that. Still, to go six months without a single social event was ridiculous. But to make matters worse, it had been exactly the same before he’d moved.

Before Japan, he had spent a year working in Paris and rented a studio apartment that was marketed as semi-furnished. It had white goods, a bed and a sofa; the perfect setup for someone staying for a couple of weeks, but not for someone looking to make the place their home. It lacked any of those comforting extras, like cushions and bookshelves. Items he promised himself he would get as soon as he had time. Twelve months later, when he was preparing to leave, he discovered he hadn’t bought a single extra item of furniture. No comfy arm chair or rugs to cover the cold tile floors. No photo frames to hang on the walls with pictures of his family or friends.

So, when the contract in Japan ended, he came back to England to figure out what his next steps were going to be, and the weekend he visited his uncle Oscar just happened to be the same weekend as the chef George announced his retirement. It felt as if the universe was sending him a sign. More than one, really.

Oscar’s house was filled with memories of family life, from the cushions sewn by his sister to the paintings on the wall by his wife. It was the antithesis of how Kent was living and he had felt a surge of sadness and jealousy. He was in his mid-thirties now,but he knew how quickly the years passed. In the blink of an eye, he would be forty. His dad had had three children by that age, and Kent himself had always envisaged himself settling down somewhere with two dogs, a wife, and at least one child.

So when Uncle Oscar had mentioned this Waterfront Café, and Kent took a look the next day, he had been astounded. It was the most prime location possible, with a view all the way out over the estuary. The possibilities were endless. This was a brilliant opportunity for him. And it was. No matter how upset or righteous Gemma might have been, it didn’t change the fact that the Waterfront Café wasn’t earning nearly as much money as it could do, and he was going to change that.

CHAPTER 19

Despite changing shifts so that she didn’t have to go in on Saturday, Gemma found herself unable to stop thinking about the Waterfront Café. She lay in bed, with the book club’s pick on the nightstand next to her, and lifted it up several times, only to place it back down after just the same couple of pages read. This was officially Kent’s first day as executive manager at the cafe. What had he told Sophie, she wondered. Perhaps he’d got little badges made like they had done in larger chain stores that said “Kent, Executive Manager” underneath. Or printed out their photos to pin up on the staff room wall in a triangle shape, with him firmly positioned at the top. She wouldn’t put anything past him. Eventually, she gave up on the book and decided to get up.

Despite her prediction that the sunny spell would be over the moment the weekend came, morning light was streaming through the windows, and it appeared to be yet another cloudless day, the perfect type of day for a walk along the waterfront.

“You’re being ridiculous, Gemma,” she said to herself as she pulled her baseball cap down lower over her head.

She was already wearing sunglasses and had no need for both garments other than it was her attempt to look innocuous. She had tried avoiding the café. Her walk started with a very large loop all the way to the top of town, where she headed to the coffee shop by the arcade for a brownie. After which, she tried to kill more time, weaving in and out of the charity shops and strolling around an art exhibition in the church. But it was no good. Now, despite her best efforts, she was standing only ten metres from the door.

The problem was that she couldn’t see what was happening inside. Were the customers happy? Was the food okay? Had Kent done anything to upset Sophie or anybody else yet? As she continued to stare at the door to the Waterfront Café, it swung open, but rather than a customer leaving, it was Sophie striding straight towards her.

Gemma dropped her head, trying to pull her cap down further, but there was no way around it. She’d been busted.

“Gemma,” Sophie said. “Are you spying on us? Seriously?”

Gemma didn’t see any point in denying it. They knew each other way too well for that. Instead, she pulled off her cap and pushed her sunglasses back to the top of her head.