The Cherry Tree Cafe (32 page)

The second week I’d been less involved with the crafting sessions as well. Various tutors had appeared and taken charge of the classes leaving me to deal with the mountains of paperwork
and seemingly endless invoices that would be my responsibility when Deborah finally cut the apron strings.

I had hoped to catch up with Henry and see a bit of the city at some point, but I was at the mercy of the Café and its incessant demands and any free time I did manage to squeeze out of
the day was no good for him and his new girlfriend.

‘We really do want to see you, Lizzie,’ he told me, ‘but Sundays are a definite no-go, I’m afraid.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I told him, willing my tired self not to cry, ‘I’ll probably be asleep all day anyway.’

‘When are your parents back?’ he asked brightly. ‘Can’t they come and see you?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘they’re not due back before my month here is up.’

‘Well, what about that Jay chap? You said you weren’t holding a grudge, especially after he helped you with the move. Why don’t you ask him?’

So I did.

I think Jay was a little overwhelmed by the reception he received when he turned up at the flat the following Saturday evening. It had been one hell of a week and as the pressure had built up I
was beginning to feel more and more homesick, and not just for the Cherry Tree and my flat either.

I couldn’t deny that I was missing Jemma and Tom and Ella, and of course Ben. It didn’t matter that they’d all deceived me and kept me in the dark – if any of them had
turned up and offered to take me home I would have jumped at the chance, but they didn’t, so I made do with the next best thing Wynbridge could offer.

‘How was your journey?’ I asked, standing on tip-toe and kissing him on the cheek.

‘It was OK,’ he frowned, clearly confused by my demonstrative welcome. ‘How are you?’

I shrugged and let out a long breath. I wanted to tell him everything; that it wasn’t what I expected, that it was beginning to dawn on me that it wasn’t what I wanted, that actually
I just wanted to go home, but that had all been hard enough to admit to myself and given Jay’s track record I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t go running home on Monday morning and tell
everyone else.

‘I’m good,’ I said wearily, ‘I’m knackered but I’m good.’

‘You look knackered,’ he said, staring down at me.

‘Oh thanks.’

‘Sorry, you know what I mean.’

‘Yeah, you mean I look knackered! Don’t worry about it. I know I do. Getting back up to London speed is taking a bit longer than I thought.’

‘How about we stay in tonight then?’ Jay suggested.

His words were music to my ears.

‘And eat takeaway out of the containers?’ I asked hopefully.

‘And drink this?’ he grinned, producing a very tempting-looking bottle of Prosecco from his bag. ‘A little bird told me you like it and I thought it might do you more good than
cider!’

By nine thirty I was stuffed, sleepy and a little squiffy. We had talked about nothing important, opting instead to watch the TV rather than chat while we ate but I couldn’t put it off any
longer. I couldn’t go to bed not knowing.

‘So how are things at the Cherry Tree?’ I asked, picking up a stray strand of noodle from the floor. ‘Have you been in at all?’

‘A couple of times,’ Jay shrugged, draining his glass, ‘it all looks a bit sad what with the crafting area still empty and everything.’

My heart thumped a little harder at the thought that it was still there, just waiting for me to bring it back to life again.

‘Everyone was gutted when they found out you’d gone. I think Tom’s tried to find someone else to take it over but had no luck and as far as I know it’s the same with the
flat.’

‘That’s a shame,’ I said, feeling torn between disappointment and delight, ‘but what about your frames? Aren’t you going to display them in the Café
now?’

I thought about the solitary framed picture that I had left behind. I’d desperately wanted to bring it with me but I hadn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of having such an
emotionally charged reminder of the place and it didn’t really belong to me anyway; it was part of the Café and besides, it would have looked out of place here in the flat which was
more like a modern loft apartment.

‘I haven’t seen Jemma much,’ Jay carried on, ‘I did ask her the first week you’d gone and she said she’d think about it, but she hasn’t been in touch
since.’

‘Well, I hope she makes up her mind soon,’ I told him. ‘That long back wall would be perfect for you and they could quite easily extend the Café tables if they
can’t find anyone to take over the crafting.’

I couldn’t understand why they hadn’t just got on with it already. It wouldn’t take much effort to switch things around.

‘How did you get on with the bank?’ I
asked, suddenly remembering Jay’s loan appointment. ‘Are you finally up and running?’

‘They said no,’ he murmured, pouring the last dregs of Prosecco into my glass. ‘They turned me down.’

‘But why?’ I gaped. ‘I thought it was a done deal.’

‘So did I,’ Jay said sadly. ‘So no, it’s still not happening, I’m afraid.’

I was sorry Jay hadn’t got his money and his dream. Part of me still felt responsible for dashing his hopes.

‘Would it be any help while you’re waiting for Jemma to make up her mind, if I asked Deborah to offer you some wall space downstairs?’ I suggested. ‘I’m sure we
could move things around so you could display at least four or five and then when I take over you could have more.’

‘I don’t know,’ Jay frowned, rubbing his chin.

‘It would be better than nothing,’ I told him, ‘Londoners are always prepared to pay a premium and I’m sure you’d get a really good take-up rate,’ I
continued, warming to my theme. ‘The Café is bound to attract the sort of people who would be interested in what you have to offer. Come on, let’s go down now and have a
look.’

The wall opposite the counter was the perfect spot for Jay’s frames and there was even some room in the Café area.

‘You know, I might take you up on this idea,’ Jay said, scanning the potential spot I was suggesting. ‘Even if people are just popping in for a minute, they’ll still see
them up there, won’t they?’

‘Exactly,’ I smiled, leaning against the counter, ‘and you could have some cards or leaflets made up and we can give them out to anyone who enquires. It’s definitely
worth considering, don’t you think?’

‘If I can find the money to make up some samples then I’ll definitely take you up on it,’ he replied.

Gently he slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me to him. I swallowed. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked him to visit but as he tucked a stray curl behind my ear and bent
to kiss me, his lips brushing mine so softly that I felt my knees buckle, I knew it was now.

Sleeping late on a Sunday was one luxury I had really come to appreciate over the last couple of weekends and that morning was no exception. I stretched in the bed, my memories of the night
before still a hazy blur but I knew, as I felt my bare skin touching the sheets, that last night I had definitely gone further with Jay than I had during my cider-soaked encounter.

I reached out to draw him close but my grasp met only a cold bed sheet and my head was immediately filled with a terrible sense of foreboding. The last time I’d been in bed with a man and
awoken to find his side of the mattress empty, things had not ended well for me.

I slipped into my dressing gown and after exploring the flat to make sure Jay hadn’t deserted me completely I realised he must have gone back downstairs to look at the space I’d
suggested for displaying his frames.

‘Jay?’ I whispered, as I entered the Café.

He wasn’t there and neither were the keys to the office. I crept behind the counter as quietly as I could, the fact that I had gone into stealth mode already telling me that whatever he
was up to, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. I could see he was in the office because the door was slightly ajar. On the desk in front of him along with the now empty petty cash tin, I could
make out the Crafting Café accounts and a pile of bank statements.

I couldn’t think what to do and didn’t know how he would react if I tackled him in such a confined space so I crept back upstairs and climbed into bed, feigning sleep until he
reappeared and slipped in beside me.

‘Morning, sleepy head,’ he smiled, running a hand lightly down my back.

I shivered slightly but knew I had to keep up the pretence.

‘Morning,’ I yawned, rolling over and keeping the sheet tight around me.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, a smile playing around his lips.

‘Not as hung over as I was after the cider,’ I admitted.

‘I’m not surprised,’ he replied, ‘you’ve been asleep for hours. You’ve probably slept it
off!’

‘I have?’

‘Can’t you remember?’ he grinned. ‘By the time I came out of the bathroom last night you were in bed fast asleep!’

‘Oh,’ I said, feeling hugely relieved.

‘You really can’t remember?’ Jay laughed.

I shook my head.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘if it’s any consolation I was the perfect gentleman, as always.’

And that, given the sordid little scene I’d just witnessed downstairs, was something I was very grateful for.

‘I’m going to have a quick shower,’ I told him, ‘then we’ll go out for lunch, if you like. I know the perfect place.’

There was a certain irony to the fact that I’d picked the same bar to tackle Jay in as I had chosen to give Giles back all the crap he had piled on me in his efforts to transform me when we lived together.

‘This place looks nice,’ Jay said as he pulled out my chair, ‘I could get used to living in London.’

I didn’t say anything. I wanted to hear what he was going to suggest next.

‘Actually,’ he said ponderously, as if the idea had just come to him, ‘that spare room of yours . . .’

‘What about it?’ I asked innocently.

‘Well, if you ever want to fill it, put me top of the list would you?’

‘What a brilliant idea!’ I smiled enthusiastically. ‘I’m sure you’d get loads of freelance journo work here in the city and you’d be right on hand for the
framing business if you did decide to display them in the City Crafting Café.’

‘Crikey,’ he said, wide-eyed. ‘Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that!’

‘I’d actually been toying with the idea of renting out the spare room,’ I told him seriously. ‘I’m thinking of making some changes to the Café, you see, and
I was worried there might be a dip in turnover for a while, but if you were paying city rent that wouldn’t be half as much of a concern.’

The change in him was barely noticeable, but I noticed. His expression and demeanour told me he wasn’t planning on paying rent at all.

‘I’ll go and get us a drink,’ he said. ‘What do you fancy?’

‘Red wine, please.’

With our meal ordered and glasses half empty I led the conversation back to the night we’d spent together at the Cherry Tree.

‘I still feel bad about letting you down over the money you needed,’ I told him, reaching across the table to take his hand. ‘I never meant to get your hopes up.’

Jay didn’t say anything but shifted a little in his seat.

‘It’s just so unlike me, you see,’ I pushed on. ‘My dad has always taught me to be so cautious about lending money. I guess I’d had a bit more cider than I
realised!’

‘Never mind about that now,’ Jay said, patting my hand, ‘everything to do with the Cherry Tree is best forgotten, if you ask me, especially now you’ve got bigger fish to
fry and besides you might have a change of heart again when you’ve bought the Crafting Café and are making the changes you mentioned. I bet the place is making a pretty penny already,
isn’t it?’

‘It’s holding its own,’ I smiled sweetly, ‘but you already know that, don’t you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You already know exactly how much the business is making, along with how much was in the petty cash tin.’

‘What are you talking about?’ he said, colour flooding his face.

‘Jay, I saw you this morning,’ I said resignedly, ‘I saw you in the office going through the Café papers and accounts.’

Jay placed his glass back on the table and sat back in his chair.

‘Look,’ he said, recovering in less than a second, ‘I know it looks really bad, but I was just worried about you, that’s all.’

‘How do you work that one out?’ I frowned.

‘I was worried that you wouldn’t really know what you were looking at when it came to the money side of the business and I wanted to make sure you weren’t investing in
something that was heading for a fall.’

‘You patronising git!’

‘Jesus, I was only trying to help. You do have something of a reputation for letting your heart rule your head when it comes to money, Lizzie, don’t you?’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘Well, the Cherry Tree for a start. You haven’t exactly made the best judgement call there, have you? You’ll be lucky to see a penny of your granny’s inheritance
again.’

‘How do you know about my inheritance?’

‘People talk, Lizzie, especially in the pub. Everyone knows you’ve come into some money since you came back.’

‘But what business is that of yours?’ I scowled. ‘What makes you think you have any right to interfere in what I decide to do with one penny of my money?’

‘Look, I really like you, Lizzie, and I just don’t want to see you make another mistake.’

‘Because if I do then you know I won’t have enough to help you out, is that it?’

Jay didn’t say anything else; he just shrugged. He knew the game was up and clearly he couldn’t be bothered to invest any more time trying to cover his tracks or make me believe his
cock and bull story. He was a fraudster, a trickster a con man and a thief on the look-out for an easy target and a way of making a fast buck.

‘Are you actually interested in setting up a framing business at all?’ I asked him, my heart sinking as I realised what an idiot I must have looked.

‘No,’ he laughed, ‘of course not. Do I look like the sort of bloke who can frame a bloody picture?’

‘But what about the Cherry Tree frame?’ I demanded. ‘How did you pull that one off?’