Page 11

‘So that’s one egg and cress sandwich, one ham and tomato sandwich, one cup of tea, and one elderflower cordial,’ I said, reading back the order I’d jotted on my pocket notebook and smiling at the young couple who were seated at a corner table. ‘Anything else?’

‘We’ll definitely be treating ourselves to cake later,’ the woman said with feeling. ‘But that’s all for now, thanks.’

I nodded and headed over to the counter where an elderly couple were waiting to pay.

It had been a busy morning at the teashop, and it was only going to get busier.

Next week, the school summer holidays started, and the village would be heaving.

I knew from recent experience that at the busiest times, I’d be having to turn customers away, as I just didn’t have the room for them.

Really, I mused, we needed another place to eat in Rowan Vale. The Quicken Tree served tasty pub lunches and evening meals, but we needed somewhere like this, where people could pop in and get snacks and hot drinks or sweet treats.

There were the Victory Tearooms at the station, of course, but not everyone caught the train to the estate, and so missed them entirely.

And there was a more formal vibe in that establishment anyway, which wasn’t to everyone’s liking.

I’d have a think about it. Speak to Callie and Brodie.

I hated to think that anyone might be put off visiting Rowan Vale because there was a perception they wouldn’t be able to get anything to eat.

I took payment from the elderly couple and gave them their receipt, then passed the order to Paige in the kitchen. Returning to the counter, I glanced up as the bell above the door jingled and the smile on my face faltered as my heart skipped rather alarmingly.

What the heck is wrong with you? I guessed my face had gone pink. I could feel my face burning. Honestly, anyone would think you were sixteen again and George Michael had just walked in.

‘We meet again,’ I said brightly as Rissa’s dad approached the counter. Seriously, Shona? Good grief.

He frowned briefly then nodded. ‘Ah yes. You were here when I came in before. Hello again.’

‘Hello. I’m Shona.’

I watched myself, in some horror and confusion, hold out my hand for him to shake. In a cafe! Why would he even…

Before I could drop my hand, though, he took it and shook it firmly.

‘Max,’ he said, not seeming at all surprised by my bizarre behaviour. ‘Max Meyer.’

‘Shona Bannerman. Or Deakin. Maybe. Well, not yet anyway, but soon, I might be. Not that I’m getting married! Lord, no! I mean, I might be going back to my maiden name because I’m divorced, you see. Not recently divorced. Quite a while now, actually. Did you want to order something?’

Kill me now.

He blinked, clearly not certain what to make of my condensed life story, then cleared his throat. ‘I, er, I’m meeting my daughter for lunch. Do you have a table free?’

I glanced around. ‘There’s one just by the window. You’re lucky, because the customers have only just paid and left. I haven’t had chance to clean the table yet but if you’d like to sit down, I’ll see to that now.’

‘I can see you’re busy, so I wanted to check that you don’t mind me waiting for Rissa. I’m a bit early.’

‘Of course not. Would you like to order a drink while you’re waiting?’

He hesitated. ‘Thank you. Perhaps a pot of tea would be good.’

‘Coming right up.’

He headed over to the table by the window and I hurried into the kitchen, grabbed a tray, a cloth and some spray and went over to where he was sitting.

We didn’t speak as I piled the dirty crockery and cutlery onto the tray and placed it carefully on a spare chair before wiping down the table, but I was acutely aware that he was watching me, and it’s a wonder I didn’t knock the chair and send the tray flying or squirt him in the eye with disinfectant spray.

‘Very nice touch,’ Max said quietly, picking up one of the menus that stood on the table.

We’d had them designed to look like ration books as it contributed to the 1940s experience.

We had Glenn Miller music playing softly in the background, too, adding to the ambience; judging by the compliments and good reviews we often received from customers, they were welcome touches.

The young women who’d been sitting at the table next to him got up to leave at that moment, so I quickly cleared and cleaned their table, too, just to prove to him how efficient and organised I could actually be.

‘Tea won’t be a moment,’ I told him, picking up the tray and carrying it back into the kitchen with huge relief.

I was literally trembling. It was crazy.

What on earth had come over me? Okay, I hadn’t exactly had a thrilling love life for the last year or so.

Or decade or so. Well, I hadn’t had any love life whatsoever, but even so, there was no need for this, was there?

I was embarrassing myself. I was a grandma, for goodness’ sake!

Grandmas didn’t behave in this juvenile fashion. Did they?

Paige handed me a tray with the young couple’s order on it and frowned at me. ‘Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up. Hey, don’t even think about it! I’ve enough to do without mopping up after you.’

‘Cheers for the sympathy,’ I said, ‘and I’m fine. Just came over a bit hot and bothered, that’s all. Could you serve this, please? I’ve got to take payment from some customers and make a pot of tea for the gentleman by the window.’

‘Sure. But are you certain you’re okay? If it’s a bug, you’ll have to go home, you know.’

‘It’s not a bug,’ I promised her. ‘And who’s in charge here, anyway?’

She grinned and shook her head then took the tray from me. As she delivered the sandwiches and drinks to the couple at the corner table, I collected payment from the two young women, risking a sly glance at Max Meyer as I did so.

He was gazing out of the window and looked deep in thought.

I glanced at my watch as I went into the kitchen to make his tea.

Ten to twelve. Rissa would probably be here in about fifteen or twenty minutes.

He really was early. I wondered how far he’d come to visit her.

Well, at least she’d agreed to meet him so whatever was going on in their lives, it seemed they were on talking terms, which was good.

Maybe I’d got a bit carried away with my estranged father/daughter theories.

I managed to serve him tea without spilling any of it, and kept my mouth zipped as I did so, merely nodding when he politely thanked me.

It was a relief when the door opened again, and Dad walked in. I hadn’t been expecting to see him, so it was a pleasant surprise.

‘Grab that table,’ I called over to him, indicating the only spare one remaining.

The one next to Max actually, but that was hardly my fault, was it?

I didn’t want him to wander over to the counter, allowing someone else to walk in and pinch it, leaving him with nowhere to sit. He was my dad, after all.

‘What brings you here?’ I asked as I wandered over to speak to him, trying very hard to ignore the man sitting so close by. ‘Do you want some lunch?’

‘I may as well have some while I’m here,’ he said, ‘but really, I was hoping to see our Polly. She hasn’t been near the cottage all week, and I miss her smiling face.’

I frowned. ‘Actually, Dad, I haven’t seen her either. Odd, isn’t it?’

‘You haven’t? You mean she hasn’t been in the teashop? Have you been up to her flat?’

‘Of course I have. I’ve dusted and polished, and opened the windows to air the place, and switched the lamp on at closing and off in the mornings like I always do. No sign of her. It’s not like her, is it?’

‘It isn’t. You’ve got me worried now.’

I gave him a wry smile. ‘Well, I was worried too, at first, but it’s not like anything can happen to her, is it? She’ll turn up when she’s ready, no doubt. In the meantime, what would you like to eat?’

Dad glanced at the menu. ‘I’m not that hungry. How about a nice cup of tea?’

‘You need to eat,’ I said sternly. ‘Would you like some soup? We have leek and potato or stilton and broccoli today.’

He liked stilton, and I suspected he wouldn’t turn that down. I was right.

‘Sounds smashing. Stilton and broccoli, and a nice, crusty bread roll. Ooh, and have you got any of that lemon sponge cake I like for afters?’

I grinned. Sounded like Dad had got over his worries about Aunt Polly already.

‘I’ll put some aside,’ I promised with a wink, and steadfastly refusing to look in Max’s direction, I went back to the kitchen.

I’d no sooner served Dad than the lunchtime rush began in earnest, and I was kept busy collecting orders, serving, taking payments and cleaning tables, while Paige worked frantically to keep on top of things in the kitchen, aided, thankfully, by Susie, who’d arrived ten minutes late for her shift, with huge apologies and an excuse we really didn’t have the time to listen to.

We knew there had to be a good reason, though.

Susie was reliable and honest, and I wasn’t about to have a go at her for being late on one occasion. We were managing. It was fine.

It was about half-past twelve when I remembered Rissa and realised I hadn’t taken any order for her. I glanced over to the table at the window and was amazed to see Dad and Max sitting together, Dad having abandoned his own table and joined Max at his.

Puzzled, I went over to see what was going on, and to enquire if Max would like something to eat.

‘Perhaps I will have a coffee,’ he said with a sigh.

‘Is Rissa running late?’ I enquired politely.

‘Rissa,’ he said heavily, ‘is not coming. She sent me a text message to say she has been held up at work and will be eating her lunch on the go at the farm instead of coming into the village. She suggested I make it another day.’

‘That’s…’ I steadied myself, not wanting to take sides in something I knew nothing about, ‘a shame.’