The Grand Reopening of Dandelion Café (16 page)

Chapter Seventeen

‘Shit.’ Annie stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the flat upstairs.

‘I’ll go up,’ Matt said.

‘Jonathan, you go up, too,’ Annie’s mum prodded him in the back.

‘I think I should stay down here.’ Jonathan backed away, his hand on Gerty’s head, ‘in case of emergencies.’

Annie rolled her eyes, ‘I’ll go up with Matt.’

‘Are you sure?’ Winifred asked.

‘Yes. It’s my cafe, my ceiling. I’ll go up. Is there a torch?’

River scrabbled around under the counter and produced an old Maglite.

‘Do you think you should have hard hats on?’ Holly asked.

Winifred nodded. ‘Yes I do.’

‘Where are we going to get hard hats?’ Annie said, making a face as if they were barmy.

‘Come on.’ She felt Matt take hold of her hand, the warmth of his fingers curling round hers, the strength of him tugging her forward, the feeling of complete safety that she felt just by having him touch her.

They went up the stairs together, slowly, Matt checking every step was OK. At the top she went in front of him and unlocked the door and they both paused as they went inside.

‘Shit,’ Matt said.

‘Oh god,’ Annie took a step forward but he pulled her back.

‘I wouldn’t go any further.’

Across the floor lay the giant sycamore, its branches splayed out across nearly the whole width of the room, and in the roof was a great gaping hole where it had fallen. The rain was unceasing, splashing into puddles on the ratty old carpet and dampening the branches to black.

Annie could see the skeleton of the roof; bare beams snapped like twigs, rotten wood hanging limply alongside fluffy yellow insulation. She used the torch to follow the damage. The horrible kitchenette had been decimated by the trunk, the partition wall had snapped like it was made of cardboard, and the branches had taken light fittings and storage heaters with them as they’d sliced down through the room.

The tree lay like a giant whale in the centre, and the new spring leaves, in the beam of the torch, glistened like Christmas lights.

‘Well I suppose that’s it then,’ Annie said, swallowing down over a massive lump in her throat. Her decision whether to stay or go made for her. Irrespective of whether she was happy or not.

Matt stared at the tree carnage. ‘Do you have insurance?’

Annie shook her head. ‘It was on my list.’

He didn’t say anything.

She sucked in her top lip, biting on the skin to stop herself from crying.

They heard Winifred call, ‘What’s going on up there?’

‘We’re just looking. Hold on,’ Matt shouted back.

Annie closed her eyes, felt the first tear escape and then lifted a hand to wipe it away. But then came another one and then she couldn’t stop them, one after the other, pouring down.

She felt Matt’s arm wrap round her, felt him pull her in towards the solid frame of his chest, felt the other arm round her back, pinning her tight. She inhaled, smelt him and rain and cherry blossom. She could hear his heart thumping in his chest.

And when the tears had stopped and she’d calmed down a bit, she pulled her head back and looked up at him and was about to speak but he just kissed her. And for some inexplicable reason, she dropped the torch, and it all went black apart from the sliver of moonlight through the crack in the roof.

She could have stayed like that for ever. His lips tasted of rain water and hers of tears. Of cherries and cream, of warmth and hope and happiness.

‘Let me invest in you,’ he whispered.

‘No,’ she whispered back.

‘Why not?’ He pulled back, affronted.

‘You can’t just give me money.’

‘I wouldn’t just be giving you money. I’d be investing in the cafe, where I eat the majority of my meals and where my son works.’

Annie shook her head, ‘No.’ It would be an easy solution. As simple as selling a Jaguar XK140 but it would be another person bailing her out.

She looked at the sycamore lying, huge and sprawling, across the carpet of the flat. It was the tree that they’d spread her dad’s ashes under. The tree she’d climbed as a kid and hidden behind in hide and seek. She knew her mum would say it was her dad, watching, making his presence known. But that didn’t align with why he’d destroyed her roof.

‘This is stupid, just let me give you the money,’ Matt said, wiping rain water from his face.

What was it her mum had said,
Your dad wouldn’t have wanted you to sell it. Ever. He loved this place. That’s why he left it to you

‘I have the money,’ she said after a moment’s pause.

‘You do?’ he asked.

She nodded. She thought about how she’d felt since getting the cafe. How included, how part of something, how herself. Rather than worrying what they all thought about her all the time, desperately trying to prove who she could become, maybe now she could just be who she was, and she could sit back and think about them. She could serve cherry pie and talk to Martha about the WWII letter, she could find out about Ludo’s daughter that she’d never even asked about, she could watch River and Matt as they got to know each other, she could help Holly with the baby she was hiding ‒ the one she’d seen her protect the second the tree had fallen. She could sell her flat and use the money to fix the roof and the windows and whatever else needed doing. She could preserve her father’s legacy and start a new one of her own.

‘Yeah, I have the money,’ Annie said again, with a bit more certainty. ‘And I have a flat to sell.’

‘You’re going to sell your flat?’ he repeated, slowly, a grin starting to spread on his lips.

‘Yes, I’m going to sell my flat.’ Annie nodded.

‘So that probably means that you’re gonna stay?’ he said.

The rain was pummelling the carpet in front of them and they could hear Winifred and Co. getting restless downstairs.

‘It probably does,’ Annie said, turning to look at the tree so he couldn’t see her smile.

‘Well if you’re gonna stay,’ he said, taking a step closer, ‘how about, maybe, you let me invest anyway. But as a partner.’

She glanced at him, shining the torch up to his face. ‘Why would you want to do that? I just said I have the money.’ Matt held up one hand to block the beam of the torch from his eyes. ‘So I have something that feels like mine again?’ he said. ‘Although right at this minute you’re not being very partner like.’

Annie lowered the torch. ‘You actually want to be a partner? That would mean you’ll have to work here, you know that?’

‘Yes, Annie.’

‘Well I’ll think about it.’

‘Not too long. Because we’re going to have to get this sorted and a loan while your flat’s on the market might help.’ When he said
this
he pointed to the giant tree as if she might have forgotten it was there. ‘But it means you’ll
have
to stay. You know that, yeah? You can’t just remortgage and cover it that way. I want to partner with you,’ he said, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile. ‘I want to be
your
partner.’

Annie looked at his T-shirt. ‘I think we all know that I’m going to stay,’ she said, before glancing up to meet his laughing eyes. ‘But what about you? What if you decide to leave? What if you just want to take off again? Be a nomad.’

‘I wasn’t a nomad.’

‘You know what I mean,’ Annie said.

‘I won’t.’

‘Yeah but what if you do?’

‘I won’t.’

‘How do you know?’

Matt took his hand from where it had been resting on her back and rubbed his lips. The space felt bereft.

‘Because I’ve found what I was looking for,’ he said.

‘Oh.’

There was a pause.

The rain started to slow, listening for what would happen next.

They both stood together in the darkness.

She put his hand back where it had been in the small of her back.

The rain stopped.

She felt Matt’s lips smile under her kiss.

Then, after a second, she pulled back, brows knitted together.

Annie: ‘When you said you’d found what you were looking for, did you mean River?’

Matt: ‘Yes, to an extent.’

Annie: ‘Oh, OK. I just wanted to clarify that.’

Matt: ‘Annie?’

Annie: ‘Mmm hmm.’

Matt: ‘I meant the dog as well.’

Annie: ‘Well that’s ruined the moment.’

Matt: ‘Annie?’

Annie: ‘Yes?’

Matt: ‘I also meant you.’

Annie: ‘You did?’

Matt: ‘Yes. Just to clarify.’

CARINA

ISBN: 978 1 474 03079 3

The Grand Reopening of Dandelion Café

Copyright © 2015 Jenny Oliver

Published in Great Britain (2015)

by Carina, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

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