‘Exactly.’ Vicki put her hand on her friend’s arm. ‘I could never have got through that day without you, you know.’
Before Rosa could reply, the six dogs, now followed by Vicki and Stuart’s two sons, dressed up and whooping like Red Indians, came bounding towards the huge window overlooking Polhampton Sands.
‘This is the reality of it though,’ Vicki laughed, protecting her growing bump with her hand.
‘I’m ready for reality,’ Rosa said, then, nicking one of the boys’ feathered headdresses, she plonked it on her head and began running and whooping around the room as part of the chaos.
CHAPTER 15
Rosa shivered as she walked down towards the beach and the café. A magnificent late-autumn sunrise was just coming up where the sky met the sea. She was meeting Sara to discuss winter opening times, as, although they had a great local clientele, even that did dwindle on weekdays during the winter months. The clocks would fall back soon so it would be getting darker earlier.
‘I should have worn a hat,’ she said aloud to Hot, who was already running ahead on his lead at the excitement of chasing seagulls. Josh had been so clever to rename the café, ROSA’S – as it was half hers and half Sara’s. And it still gave her a warm fuzzy feeling when she walked down the hill to see the sign and realise that another dream of hers had become a reality. She could never have imagined this happening even two years ago. And now not only did she have a shop, she also had the café. It really was ‘pinch me’ stuff.
Yes, Rosa thought, she had inherited the derelict shop to turn around, and turn it around she had, through her own merit and sheer hard work. She had always hoped that the locals would come to feel the same love and affection for her and the shop as they had had for her great-grandfather Ned and his wife Dorothea. Poor Dorothea, who was unable to have children and who, tragically, on finding out about her husband’s affair, took her life by leaping from the very cliffs in front of her. It was Rosa’s very own great-grandmother Queenie, Ned’s secret lover, who had given birth to Rosa’s grandmother Maria, Mary’s mum. Rosa had never known about her family tree on her mother’s side until she had come to Cockleberry Bay and begun to unravel the mysteries of her past. It was weird to think that if Queenie and Ned had never fallen in love, then she wouldn’t even be here.
The lights of the café were already on and the windows slightly steamy. Rosa could see Sara, getting busy laying tables. She was such a great lady and she, too, had worked hard to keep the café running as a little goldmine, just as old Harry Trevan had done before her.
Despite the early hour, Vegan Vera was sitting quietly in the corner seat with a book open on the table. Sara murmured in Rosa’s ear that her stroppy customer had almost shown some emotion earlier when she had told her about the soy yoghurts they were now stocking. Rosa looked over and saw that the woman had one in front of her, with fresh raspberries on top, and was spooning it hungrily into her lipsticked mouth, in between sips from a large soy latte. Rosa realised that she had never seen Vegan Vera with a smile on her face. She had tried to make polite conversation with her a few times, but to no avail. The red-headed Bergamot was, in fact, rather an enigma.
Rosa went over to see if she wanted anything else. ‘Good book?’ she asked pleasantly. Then, glancing down, she spotted an official-looking letter lying between the open pages.
Without looking up, Bergamot replied abruptly, ‘Book’s great, fucking letter not so much.’
Rosa tried not to laugh. Hearing swear words in a posh voice had always amused her for some reason.
‘Bastard husband – or soon to be ex-husband. I really thought that my leaving London and renting down here would make him see sense, but no, he’s still shagging the cocking housekeeper. She’s got an arse the size of Belgravia too!’ Angrily, the woman crumpled the letter up and threw it into her large designer handbag.
Rosa tried to get a word in, but to no avail.
‘I never realised the pre-nup would stand, but his solicitor seems to think it bloody does,’ Bergamot rambled on. ‘It looks like I may have to go back to work at this rate. Me – having to work!’ She gobbled a mouthful of yoghurt and then stabbed at the bottom of the pot with her spoon as if her husband was down there, fornicating with the help.
‘Oh dear,’ Rosa mustered, trying to keep a straight face. ‘How terrible for you.’
The disgruntled forty-something drained her coffee and grumbled, ‘I’d better get back on the dating sites, I suppose.’ As she got up and pushed her chair back, she let out a noisy fart. ‘Oopsee,’ she said, showing no sign of embarrassment. ‘One of the perils of saving the planet.’ She reached for her bag. ‘See you later – Rosa, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Er, yes, see you soon, V…I mean, Bergamot.’
Sara, who had been listening in, was doubled up with laughter when Rosa reached the counter and put Vegan Vera’s measly 20p tip into the ceramic burlesque dancer money box that held a sign saying Nice Tips.
‘I wonder if they ever have a firm stool?’ Sara remarked.
‘What? Who?’ Rosa began to unload one of the dishwashers.
‘Vegans,’ Sara whispered, although the café was empty now, also causing Rosa to laugh out loud.
Then she tried to be serious. ‘All things aside, I do think we need to start offering a couple more vegan options. And well done on the different milks. I tried the oat one and it tastes OK – in porridge, anyway.’
‘Yes. I thought I’d make a start after what we discussed previously. We are a tourist industry, after all, and the customer is always right.’
‘Does that include Vegan Vera? No, definitely not. I wonder what dating site she’ll be looking at,’ Rosa mused.
‘Gold-diggers dot com, I should imagine,’ Sara said and they high-fived.
‘What’s so funny?’ Titch manoeuvred the baby stroller towards the counter. ‘Actually, I’ll tell you what’s not funny. A teething baby. “Oh coo, coo, look at his lovely toothy-pegs coming through,” says the childless chuffing stranger in the Co-op.’ Titch sighed. ‘There is nothing funny or lovely about a ruddy teething baby. I thought by now he would have a full set of gnashers, but no, still they keep popping through. He’ll have a set like that Rylan Clark-Neal at this rate.’ She pulled off her coat and went to sit at a window table.
Sara made an oops-type face at Rosa. ‘Large black coffee coming up, girl.’
Hot, who had been contentedly chewing a raggedy soft dog-toy, had got up and trotted over, and was now circling around the push-chair, sniffing and wagging his tiny tail. He didn’t bark, but eventually sat down, guarding the pram and its contents.
Rosa went over, kissed her friend on the cheek and peered into the pram. ‘Oh look, he’s sleeping like a baby now.’
‘Ha bloody ha, Rose, yes, he is and probably will for the next two hours, so actually I’m not sure why I’ve not gone back to bed too. Oh yes, I’m starving, as I’ve been awake since bloody four a.m., that’s why. And I can’t get into the kitchen at the bungalow as Mum is fussing around in there. Can I have a bacon roll, please? With loads of butter and ketchup?’