11 The Teashop on the Corner (46 page)

‘I am not disturbing you, am I?’ he asked with caution. ‘I knocked at the front door but heard no answer.’

‘Dear Pavitar, come over and sit down,’ said Molly. ‘How lovely to see you. Can I get you something to drink?’

‘No, I don’t want anything,’ said Pavitar, bending over Molly and kissing her cheek. ‘I came to see how you were.’

‘I’m very well,’ smiled Molly, patting the space at her side on the swinging bench. ‘Enjoying this beautiful summer day.’

It had been a week since the funeral. Pavitar hadn’t expected to see her at the tearoom, but he was concerned, all the same.

‘I was just thinking that I should go out and visit my friends again,’ said Molly.

‘We have missed you,’ said Pavitar.

‘It’s funny, but I’ve been smiling more than I’ve been grieving this past week. I’ve even been looking at holiday brochures. I promised to take Harvey to
Venice.’

‘I am going to the United States to see my daughter and my new grandchild when he or she arrives,’ said Pavitar.

‘That’s wonderful,’ said Molly.

‘I thought I would stay for some time then fly to Canada and cruise to Alaska.’

Molly’s jaw dropped open. ‘My, what a trip that would be.’

‘Well, you are very welcome to come with me,’ laughed Pavitar. ‘A more charming travelling companion I cannot think of.’

Molly’s laugh chimed along with his.

‘I’ll go and pack my bag right now.’

Pavitar stopped laughing. ‘Really, Molly. Why don’t you come with me?’

Molly stopped laughing too. ‘Seriously?’

Pavitar threw his arms up. ‘Why not? My family would make you most welcome.’

Molly raised her eyebrows and let loose a giggle.

‘Why not indeed,’ she grinned. She clapped her hands down on her legs. ‘Yes. I will.’

‘Oh my goodness,’ chuckled Pavitar. ‘I only came to bring you some news and now I am going to Alaska with you.’

‘Oh. What news is that?’ asked Molly.

Pavitar took a letter out of his pocket. ‘This arrived on Tuesday. I’m so excited about it. Look.’

Molly read:

‘Oh that’s lovely, Pavitar,’ she said. ‘Give or take the errors. Such a good bit of news after all that has happened.’

‘Don’t worry. I rang and put them right on all the mistakes.’ He lifted Molly’s hand into his own. ‘You look as if you have lost some weight, dear Molly.’

‘I probably have lost a bit,’ she sighed. ‘But I shall have an enormous slice of cake tomorrow morning at the teashop. I promise. And I shall be all right, yes. I’m going
to make sure I have a lot of things to look forward to. Now, have a cup of tea with me, Pavitar. I’ve missed our chats. Are you reading any good books at the moment?’

And Molly and Pavitar sat in the sunshine, drinking tea and talking. As good friends do.

Whilst making cakes, the night before Virginia Woolf Tuesday, Leni bobbed her head out of the kitchen to check on Ryan. He was lying on his stomach on the sofa, reading his new
Kindle, Mr Bingley a huge contented ginger cushion on his back. The sight of him brought a flurry of tears to Leni’s eyes. How much longer would she be allowed to keep him? She really did
need to alert the authorities, she knew. She had avoided Shaun for over a week now, knowing that he was bound to ask what was happening.

It would be the end of the summer term on Friday. She couldn’t expect Ryan to go to the teashop with her every day for six weeks, but she couldn’t leave him alone in the house whilst
she worked. Maybe she should go part-time in the summer, or set someone on to help? It was all getting horribly complicated. And there was Anne to think about too. She didn’t want Anne
slipping into the background. Anne was her daughter, her priority.

Ryan’s certificate of achievement was framed and hanging on the lounge wall. Leslie O’Gowan had torn up the certificates from the other years and they were past salvaging, so Leni
had made a plaque to stick on the bottom reading ‘Three Years Running’.

Shaun’s warning that she would be heading for a heap of trouble if she didn’t do this the right and proper way was ringing louder in her head with every day that passed. She made the
decision that tomorrow she would ring the authorities and hope and pray that they’d do the right thing for Ryan and find him a good home. He shouldn’t be with her, really. She
didn’t want him caught up in the big swirling dark mess that was her life.

On the big day, Pavitar picked up Molly at ten o’clock and they called in at The Lucky Flower Company to tell Carla and Will what was going to be happening at eleven.
Will immediately went over to inform Shaun. The advertising would be good for the whole of Spring Hill Square. Shaun had news of his own – he’d just had a call from the local housing
developer John Silkstone asking about subcontracting some roofing work. Shaun said he was too busy, but he knew a man who might want the job. Will thought he might buy his landlady’s lucky
black cat a large slice of salmon for his tea tonight. Things were definitely on the up for him.

Carla was equally as smiley. So far she and Will had been to the cinema, the theatre and had two dinner dates. No, they hadn’t slept together, she had told a giddy Theresa over coffee,
they were both enjoying taking things very slowly. Carla was as skippy as a teenager and the news that lovely Leni had won an award for the Teashop on the Corner was the cherry on today’s
cake. Even if it was an award issued by the
Daily Trumpet
, the most inept newspaper known to man. She half-expected them not to turn up here at eleven because they had gone to a
café in Rotherham.

Leni was delighted to see Molly and gave her a huge hug when she entered with Pavitar and Carla.

‘It’s so good to be back,’ said Molly with a happy sigh. ‘Harvey loved it here.’

‘I had so many arguments still to have with him,’ Pavitar nodded regretfully.

Leni busied herself making tea and coffee, glad of the opportunity to be doing something that took her mind away from the awful task she needed to do that day. She had phoned social services
once that morning but put the phone down as soon as it connected. She was too preoccupied to realise that Molly and Pavitar were looking out of the window a lot and Carla was sitting in the tearoom
long after she had finished her coffee. She didn’t even notice when her three customers started to grin like loons and nudge each other. Leni had no idea what was happening when the teashop
door opened and a bunch of strangers bearing recording equipment strode in.

‘Leonora Merryman?’ asked a woman with a microphone, walking up to her. ‘Hi, I’m Ailsa Shaw from Trumpet FM.’

A photographer at Ailsa’s shoulder levelled his camera at Leni and there was a flash.

‘Congratulations, Leonora Merryman of the Coffee Shop in the Corner of Spring Hill Square. You have won the
Daily Trumpet
Most Welcoming Café in South Yorkshire award. Now,
folks, this is a big surprise for Leonora who doesn’t know anything about it. What are your immediate thoughts, Leonora?’

Leni’s face seemed to drain of colour before Carla’s eyes. She didn’t look wholly comfortable with all this attention.

‘I’m . . . I’m . . .’ was all Leni managed.

The photographer was adjusting his camera and setting up a remote flash on the counter.

‘Absolutely gobsmacked,’ reported a delighted Ailsa. ‘Now how long has the Coffee Shop on the Corner been here?’

Clearly annoyed by the inaccuracy, Pavitar stepped forward. ‘Excuse me, it’s the Teashop on the Corner,’ he said.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ gushed Ailsa. ‘The Teashop on the Corner, folks. We’re on live broadcast so remember it’s the Teashop not the . . . whatever I said
before.’

Leni’s totally frozen voice was no good for a live broadcast, so Ailsa turned back to Pavitar.

‘We’re going to have a word with one of the teashop’s satisfied customers. And your name, sir?’

‘Pavitar Singh,’ he replied proudly. ‘And this is the best café in the world, never mind South Yorkshire. Leni Merryman makes the most delicious tea and cakes on the
planet.’

Ailsa let loose a tinkly laugh. ‘Leonora is clearly in a state of delighted shock, folks. Remember to buy the
Daily Trumpet
on Thursday and see for yourself where we are today in
our new supplement. Those cakes look fantastic. Are they home-made, Leonora?’

‘Yes,’ Leni replied, the word flat.

There is something wrong here, thought Carla. Leni was beyond uncomfortable. No one else seemed to notice how startled Leni appeared by the camera lens. It was the first time that Carla had seen
her without a smile on her face. Leni looked totally bewildered, like an animal used to cover which had been suddenly exposed. Then Shaun walked in and Carla could tell immediately that he saw
Leni’s trauma too.

The photographer started taking pictures of Leni as Ailsa walked around the teashop and began to report what was in the cabinets to the listeners of Trumpet FM. Pavitar and Molly were chatting
to her, pointing out the gifts, and then they moved on to the wall of postcards from Anne.

Carla watched Leni trying to pose for photographs, her great big mud-coloured eyes reflecting the worst kind of discomfort and felt awash with guilt that she had been complicit in all this. She
wanted to bundle her friend out of the door and rescue her but she was trapped within a cage of strangers.

The photographer was asking Leni to cut a slice of cake. He took a picture of her handing it over to Ailsa, then snapped one of the spaghetti-thin reporter eating it with an orgasmic look on her
face.

Another girl with a pad was trailing behind Ailsa taking notes.

‘Thank you so much for showing us around your gorgeous literary café,’ said Ailsa into the mike. ‘I think we should present you with your prize.’ Notepad girl
unrolled a huge cheque and thrust it into Leni’s hand whilst holding the other end straight.
Leonora Merryman, the sum of five hundred pounds.

More photos.

‘Have you any ideas what you’d like to do with the money?’

‘God, give her a chance to get her breath,’ mumbled Shaun.

‘I, er . . . I’ll probably give it to the Guide Dog charity,’ said Leni, struggling to appear coherent.

‘I hear you support them,’ said Ailsa. ‘You save all the stamps from the postcards that your daughter Anne sends you from her far-flung adventures, I’ve been
told.’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Leni, her voice a dry quiet croak.

‘This is Ailsa Shaw reporting from the award-winning Teashop on the Corner café on Spring Hill, Barnsley. Back to Roger in the studio.’

Ailsa let loose a relieved ‘Whoof. That was brill, folks.’ She rubbed Leni’s arm. ‘Sorry to spring it on you like that, if you’ll excuse the pun. I’ve never
seen anyone so shocked. We have a certificate for you as well but I’m going to have to get it altered because some stupid chuff put “the Coffee Shop on the Corner” on it.
I’ll have it sent on.’

The photographer was packing up his kit and notepad girl was rolling up the cheque.

‘This is wipe clean,’ she explained. ‘We re-use it. I’ll give you your real cheque in a minute.’

‘Gorge place you have here. Can I take the rest of that slice of cake with me? Haven’t had time for any breakfast,’ said Ailsa.

‘Yes, of course,’ replied Leni. Her hands weren’t steady as she wrapped it up in a serviette.

‘God, you really are knocked for six,’ laughed Ailsa watching her.

‘Here’s your proper cheque,’ said notepad girl, putting it on the counter.

‘Thank you.’

‘Cheers,’ said Ailsa, as Leni handed over the cake. ‘Check out the supplement on Thursday. You’ll be on the cover and take up the whole of the centre.’

The girl with the notepad was tapping her watch.

‘We need to go now, Ailsa.’

Ailsa tutted and trilled. ‘Deadlines.’ And she breezed out of the teashop with the same efficient energy as she had entered it.

‘Are you all right?’ Carla asked Leni.

‘Yes, yes,’ Leni forced out a smile. ‘It was all such a shock.’

‘Oh, wasn’t that exciting. I’m so happy for you, Leni,’ said Molly. ‘You deserve more customers. The Teashop on the Corner is a wonderful place. Everyone should
know about it.’

‘I nominated you,’ said Pavitar, proudly. ‘We wanted you to win so much.’

‘Thank you, everyone,’ said Leni. ‘That was so kind of you all.’

And it was too, she knew that. To be held in such affection that these dear people would do this for her. If only they’d known what they’d done.

Pavitar and Molly left soon after that with beaming smiles on their faces. Carla went back to the florist shop after Leni had convinced her that she was fine, but had never had any media
attention before and had been stunned by it. Carla bought it. Only Shaun remained certain that there was more to what he had just witnessed than met the eye. He recognised true fear when he saw it.
He’d seen too much of it in his life not to.

Leni opened the door and saw the bump of Ryan sleeping underneath his new quilt cover, Mr Bingley at his feet, both of them snoring softly. With all the events of the day, Leni
hadn’t rung the authorities, but it didn’t matter. They’d come of their own accord soon enough. Ryan apparently knew also that she had been nominated for the award and had wanted
to know all the details. Now he was safely asleep, she could drop the act of trying to hold up that rictus smile. She closed the door softly, tears dripping off her long dark brown eyelashes and
down her pale cheeks.