Page 48 of The Custard Tart Cafe by the Sea
Tingles flood my spine. Reggie had made a point of reiterating those words during one of our conversations, hadn’t he? “Reggie gave me a right– and totally deserved– dressing down, reminding me that if I had the nerve to pull off my original stunt of waltzing into the café and causing such a scene– an act that was as absurd as it was unwarranted, since the Romans invented custard– then I needed to dig deep and find the same kind of spirit to prove that you’re worth fighting for. That your café is the bee’s knees.”
We both fall silent for a moment as I take all of this on board.
“I know without a shadow of a doubt how you feel about me,” I finally say. “But the thing I am struggling to wrap my head around is that youtrulyrate my custard tarts… which reminds me… you never did give me the verdict on the ones I gifted you that day; the tarts that were paid forward by Frank.”
“You really want to know?”
“Oh, I really,reallywant to know,” I reply, bracing myself for everything now to go spectacularly pear-shaped, but I want nothing short of authenticity moving forward.
“Okay,” Tiago sighs deeply. “The fact is… although it pained me at the time to admit it… and this doesn’t mean I don’t love my grannie’s plain and simplepastéis, by the way.” I wait with baited breath for his verdict. There is bound to be a ‘but’ coming. “I’m going to be honest with you, Ms. Schofield… you arecreative dynamiteand every single one of those tarts set off fireworks on my tongue. I’m insatiable to try more of the things. I must admit, Frank has been a lifesaver in that respect, funnelling me regular supplies so I can enhance every aspect of marketing the little gems. Your autumnal ideas are a revelation, by the way.” My mouth falls open in disbelief. I am so glad we aren’t doing FaceTime. “And now I deserve a Golden Globe for my acting skills.”
Oh, so he is lying out of his backside. I knew it was too good to be true. This is how it goes with me and relationships. Every. Single. Time.
“Have you any idea how hard it is to suppress a smile when all you want to do is be furious with someone because they’re such a culinary goddess? From the moment I first laid my eyes on you and your tarts, I was infatuated,” he says.
“I suspected as much,” I fire the words back quickly and matter of fact, hoping they mask my delight. “Cristiano rather gave you away when he sniffed so appreciatively at the air in the café that day, bless him.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to have words with that dog later. Clearly I’m not the only one with a soft spot for you.”
EPILOGUE
You win some,you lose some in the game of life, and the game of love. Days after defrosting my heart and gingerly agreeing to a daytime date with Tiago (at the neutral yet gorgeous setting of the Ivy in Bristol’s Clifton district, where it took me a while to stop looking over my shoulder for a waiting-in-the-wings Grannie Elsa), I knew my gamble had paid off. We waited until dessert, and then unable to hold back any longer, Tiago leaned over the table to kiss me and I fully obliged. It was a kiss not so dissimilar to custard, funnily enough. A kiss with the heat, moreishness and delicious familiarity of custard. A kiss which very nearly saw us thrown out of the brasserie! On the subject of Elsa, I swear she put something in our port that day in Tavira. When you think about it, why would the family’s mysterious nun lodger stop at handing down secret recipes forpastéis de nata?
It would be such a stress-free world if we could simply fall in love over the presentation of a rose or a long and starstruck look, but it would also be a boring one. I like to think that our initial stumbling block of a story only served to make us stronger. Because all of that was two years ago now. I’ve just turned thirty, can you believe it? And Tiago and I are going strong. Stronger than strong.
So strong in fact that we work together, too! I know…
After our first date that September, after I finally accepted that Tiago was best placed to run the Muse Masters’ marketing campaign for The Custard Tart Café, things really took off. And he took off too, leaving MM to follow his heart and set up his own marketing business. A business with just one client: me.
Everything happened so quickly after that. Weston-super-Mare’s chamber of commerce got in touch to help us expand the premises, still keeping the flagship pier bakery, of course, but setting up a further base in the town. Next came an outlet in Bristol’s trendy harbourside, and a prime location in Bath– unbeknownst to me, Matt and Kelly had been keeping their ears to the ground for a while, and then the perfect spot came up just a stone’s throw from the tourist magnet of the Abbey and the Grand Pump Room. Stuff of dreams or what?
We haven’t quite made it to London yet, but one step at a time.Who am I kidding?We haven’t made it to the Big Smoke, but we have made it to Portugal! After accepting our joint invitation to spend her annual February sojourn in cold and rainy England (at the Schofield-Willispied-à-terrein Weston-super-Mare), Elsa was so bowled over with our business innovation and success, that she returned to the Algarve to invest in a spin-off business of her own. Nowadays she fuses the modern with the traditional. Grandson Edu helps run the contemporarypastelariain Vilamoura, luring overseas holidaymakers away from fish and chips with fantastical custard tart fillings. Meanwhile, Elsa and Silverio continue to do what they do best, baking and selling simple and deliciouspastéis de nata, infused with the ancient wisdom and secrets of the past.
“As long as there are human beings with appetites, there will be a demand for old and new,” Elsa declared that first February of our official coupledom, giving a thumbs-up to our brand new red velvet Valentine’s custard tart as she shivered in her mammoth woolly scarf at the window seat overlooking the milky coffee (or in Portuguese,galão) waters of the English channel. She was sharing an afternoon tea platter with Frank, who nodded his head in reverent agreement.
Elsa had no idea of the perfect timing of her words that day, but she soon did.
I had literally just opened the most exquisite invitation, to Radhika and Santi’s June wedding in Portugal! To cut a long story short, Radhika’s parents came around more quickly and easily than she’d ever expected, accepting that sometimes traditions can change with the times. Especially when they are new ways of celebrating love.
Love of people, or love of food.
Tiago wound his hand around my waist as we looked on from the counter, and when nobody was looking he rubbed my stomach affectionately, whispering tenderly in my ear:
“I so want to tell those two oldies aboutour new addition.”
“Me too,” I replied. “But you know that such a momentous occasion requires an equally momentous accompaniment: custard tarts!”
And with that, Tiago took my hand and we joined the sages at their table, where Elsa was already rooting around in her giant handbag to swiftly pull out a small bottle of port which she proceeded to pour into three empty tea cups.
“None for you, my dear.” She looked me up and down with a knowing smile. “Not for at least another seven months.”
THE END