Page 18 of And Then There Was You

Thirteen Merryn

‘Stop worryin’.’

‘I’m not worrying.’

‘Tell it to your hands.’

I glance down at my fidgeting fingers and relent as Seth’s laugh warms my cheek.

‘There’s just so much at stake,’ I admit, because the closer we’ve got to the grand opening, the more mountainous the occasion has felt to me. I see it now, looming ahead, a near-vertical climb to a place I’m not certain Sweet Reverie is ready to go.

‘There’s so much to celebrate .’ His hand at my back steadies me. ‘Look how far you’ve come, Mer. You built this place from the ground up and now it’s ready to go further than you ever thought possible.’

‘But if it fails . . .’

‘It won’t.’

‘But if it does . . . No, Seth, it’s a real concern. It isn’t just my livelihood depending on the evening openings now. I have a team . . .’

‘. . . Who are all thrilled to be here. And who would all find other jobs in town no problem if the evenin’ hours don’t work. But they will work. So stop bleddy worryin’!’

I know he’s right. Of course I do. I just wish that my nerves weren’t trying to scupper the new opening hours before we’ve even begun.

I’ll be happier once people arrive for the celebration, I tell myself.

When the café and courtyard are filled with conversation and laughter and the sound of Merlin being played.

Tonight, Seth’s younger sister Mhairi is playing for us.

She’s just passed her Grade 8 piano and plays with a local jazz trio.

It will mean a steady supply of relaxed, beautiful music welcoming everyone into the café in its new evening guise.

Then, as promised, I’ll invite the celebration guests to play towards the end of the event, when everyone is relaxed and more likely to have a go.

Mhairi arrives just before seven and I settle her at the piano with a generous supply of snacks to sustain her.

I wait while she warms up with scales, enjoying the sound and warmth of the piano at last. Now the initial bittersweet moment of hearing Merlin for the first time is over – thanks to Ruthie – I can start to see my vision of the piano in Sweet Reverie.

It’s more perfect than I could have hoped, the natural reverberation of the courtyard and walls adding depth and substance to the sound.

Mhairi smiles as she plays. ‘It has a great tone.’

‘Doesn’t it?’ I agree, as proud as a mother hen.

‘Seth says you found it outside?’

‘Yes – on North Terrace, left by a house that’s being renovated.’

She completes another scale and pauses to have a drink. ‘You’d never guess from the quality of the sound. I’m going to enjoy hanging out with this magic boy tonight!’

Ruthie arrives with Jenna and Murph just as the first guests are walking in.

They greet one another in the doorway, walking in as one happy, chatty party.

While Ruthie and my new team members hurry behind the counter to help ready the trays of canapés and tiny bites we prepared this afternoon, Seth lights the tea-light candles in painted jam jars on every table and Mhairi starts to play out in the courtyard.

As more guests arrive, I see it: the vision of what an evening opening in Sweet Reverie could be, like I first imagined when Seth and I found the piano.

Soft candlelight, soothing music, good-natured conversation and the sense of a community coming together.

It’s beautiful – and the sight of it all happening around me blows away every last concern from my mind.

‘It looks amazing,’ Jack says, while Seren and Nessie gaze around in delight.

‘There’s a piano!’ Nessie breathes, dark brown curls bouncing around her face as she gazes at Merlin.

‘You have a go on it later, if you like,’ I tell her, rewarded immediately by a squeal of delight.

Seren laughs. ‘I think that’s a yes.’

‘Boss, where do you want these?’ Murph arrives at my side with a tray of mini white and dark chocolate bites. ‘There’s no room left on the counter.’

‘Start handing them around,’ I say, waving at Jack, Seren and Nessie as they move out into the courtyard. ‘I don’t think anyone’s going to mind if they have savoury and sweet canapés together.’

‘Should I try one? You know, just so I know what I’m delivering?’ His smile is pure mischief.

‘Nice try. I tell you what, if you deliver all of those, I’ll let you have the box of extras after the event.’

‘Deal!’ Murph is off like a greyhound, delivering sweet treats like a pro.

I stand by the counter, where Ruthie is in charge of drinks – non-alcoholic fruit punch garnished with sweet sage leaves and strawberries – and let my gaze travel across the café.

People are chatting together, good-natured laughter filling the space.

Some standing in groups, others gathered around the tables.

As Mhairi’s beautiful playing fills the air, the extra fairy lights we added behind the counter and around the door to the courtyard bestow a welcoming glow.

It feels different to our usual day service.

Special. Like we’ve created a space that’s never existed before.

And there it is: the hope that I’ve caught hold of since I found the piano.

I look at my café and I see the physical embodiment of the feeling I’ve carried.

Friends, regular customers, tourists who are here because of Ruthie’s beautiful sign, and my café, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt what its potential could be.

I have so much to do, but for one small moment I let myself feel this. Drink it all in. And let it settle in my soul: I built this, from a broken place where I thought I might never find my way back.

It’s beautiful. It’s hopeful.

And at the centre of it all, the piano sings.