‘So it was Marcus’s fault,’ she’d said.
‘It’s my café and the buck stops with me.’
‘You had a lot on your mind. So much on your mind of course the little things won’t get done. It happens to all of us – that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. And if your insurance doesn’t pay out then we’ll fix it anyway.’
‘How the hell will you and I fix that?’
‘Not you and me, silly, the whole of Sanderson Bay. We’re good in a crisis trust me. You weren’t here when one of the ceilings at the hotel caved in and we didn’t even have any insurance. The whole town got us up and running again.’
‘Really?’ Her words had given me a glimmer of hope, like a light at the end of a very long tunnel.
Sascha had taken my arm then and led me back to the hotel.
‘I’ll have to refund everyone for New Year’s Eve,’ I’d said as we walked.
‘Don’t think about that now, Ellie; you’ve been through enough these last few days – so many ups and downs. You need to rest. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’
But I haven’t been able to sleep. I’ve barely slept at all since the fire. It was good luck rather than good management that the fire had happened on Boxing Day rather than on a day when the café had been packed. It was good luck that Marcus hadn’t come to any harm and had recovered from his smoke inhalation so quickly.
‘I’m made of tough stuff, El,’ he’d said when I’d phoned him to see if he was all right. ‘It’ll take more than a little fire to get the better of me.’
I’d been holed up in the hotel ever since my meeting with the fire officer, speaking to my aunt on the phone each night, eating with Sascha and Geoff but I hadn’t felt like doing anything else. So when Sascha had told me that Terry had come to see me I’d almost told her to tell him to leave. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. But I’m glad Sascha forced me to see him because he was there to offer to hold the champagne tea at The Black Horse now the café wouldn’t be open.
‘I’d be lying if I told you the whole town wasn’t talking about the fire,’ he says as we sit in the hotel lounge – the only people there for which I’m grateful. ‘But nobody is blaming you.’
‘Do they know about the extension lead?’ I ask.
‘Of course they do and everyone is saying how easily done it is, how they’ve done it themselves, how it could have been them.’
I look at him doubtfully. ‘Really?’
‘Yes really. Besides we all know it was Marcus who moved the Christmas tree and the whole town already knows what an idiot he is.’ Terry smiles at me. ‘Why are you hiding in the hotel anyway when you’ve got a big New Year’s Eve party to plan?’ he asks.
‘I can’t do it, Terry,’ I say. ‘How can I after this? It seems inappropriate. That fire could have been really awful. It could have—’
‘But it didn’t,’ Terry interrupts. ‘Everyone is absolutely fine and looking forward to New Year. They don’t want refunds; they want champagne and cake.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure, so are you in?’
I hesitate for a moment before agreeing. ‘OK,’ I say, uncertainty in my voice. ‘I’ll give it a go.’
‘Come over and see me and Mo this afternoon,’ Terry says as he stands to leave. He leans forward and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. ‘Everything will be OK, Ellie,’ he says. ‘You’ll see.’
*
‘Come on,’ Sascha calls from the front door of the hotel as I run back down the stairs, putting on my coat. ‘We said we’d be there by two.’
‘I don’t think “we” said anything,’ I reply. ‘I remember telling Terry I’d pop into the pub this afternoon but I don’t remember you being invited.’
‘I’m just making sure you’re OK,’ she says, literally shoving me out of the door.
‘I don’t need chaperoning. I’m fine.’
She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. ‘You’re fine, are you?’ she says. ‘You’ve been sitting in that lounge moping for days.’
‘Not for days, just—’
‘What’s done is done,’ Sascha interrupts. Sometimes I feel like I can’t get a full sentence out in front of her anymore. She’s bossier than ever since she fell pregnant. ‘You can’t change what happened at the café but you have to stop blaming yourself. We all make mistakes; it’s how we rectify them that counts.’
‘Do you think this will work?’ I ask.
‘Having the champagne tea at the pub?’
I nod.
‘I do actually, I think it’s going to work perfectly.’
‘And you don’t think people will think it a bit much that I’m having a New Year celebration anyway, despite the fact I nearly burned the town down?’
Sascha sighs impatiently.
‘You didn’t burn the town down. There was a small but unfortunately timed fire at your café and anyway everybody wants cake and champagne and nobody will think it’s too much – whatever that means.’ She pauses, putting her hand on my arm. ‘Look, Ellie, I know this feels like shit and I know how I’d feel if it was the hotel. I know it’s so uncertain and you still don’t know if the insurance will cover it. But I promise you that nobody thinks badly of you. The only person blaming you is you.’ She pauses. ‘We are all blaming Marcus though,’ she says with a grin.
‘Just as he was hoping people would start to accept him as well.’
She nudges me as we walk towards the pub. ‘Everything will be OK you know,’ she says. ‘It always is in the end.’
I take a breath. I know she’s right. I know I’m being way too hard on myself. I feel as though I’ve become complacent and settled in Sanderson Bay as it started to feel like the home I’d been looking for my whole life. I feel as though the fire happed to bring me back down to earth. But I know that’s nonsense. I know this town is my home and that it has been since I was a teenager.
And I know that if I’ve got the backing of the town, if they really don’t blame me, then I’ll get through this somehow.
‘You’re right,’ I say quietly.
‘Of course I am,’ she replies, squeezing my arm one last time. ‘I always am. Now come on or we’ll be late.’
‘Late for what?’ I ask as she marches on ahead of me.
She turns to look at me over her shoulder. ‘You’ll see.’
Half the town are at The Black Horse when we arrive – all the Knitting Club ladies are there, as is Geoff – who I thought was still at the hotel – and James, Abi and Marcus are sitting together deep in conversation, so even if the whole town does blame Marcus some people are still taking to him at least. Eric is at the back of the pub by the window having an animated conversation with somebody who I can’t make out because the light is behind them. As I look around the pub, the person Eric is talking to turns around and my heart skips a beat.
Ben.