All Aboard: A perfect feel good romance. Cressida McLaughlin

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СКАЧАТЬ Norman Friend’s boat, Celeste. The old man was nowhere to be seen, hibernating from the cold below board. The mooring between Celeste and The Canal Boat Café, which had been waiting for a new occupant the last time Summer had been to Willowbeck, was now taken up with a beautiful narrowboat coloured red, gold and black, The Sandpiper written in a flourishing font on the side. Summer could appreciate the quality of the artistry, and had often dreamed – in happier times – that one day her designs would decorate the boats that slid serenely up and down the river. But recently, all thoughts of the river, and of the boats, had been tainted by her grief, and she’d shut herself up in her studio, taking on any commission that would keep her mind away from the creeping thoughts of the day her mum had died.

      ‘Summer? Summer, is that you?’ The voice was high and breathy, and snapped Summer out of her daydream. Valerie Brogan popped her head out of the doors at the bow of The Canal Boat Café, then stepped on to the deck. Her red hair was like a blazing fire licking over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her long purple dress the colour of her own boat. ‘Summer, thank God you’re here.’ She held her arms wide, and Summer walked forward, hovering just out of reach. ‘Come aboard, come aboard. You can’t rescue me from there.’

      Summer gave Valerie what she hoped was a warm smile, and walked across the plank that connected the towpath to the boat. Valerie wrapped her arms around her, smothering her in the scent of coffee, and an underlying sweetness of jasmine incense. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. How long has it been? Eight months?’

      Summer tried to nod, her head pressed against Valerie’s shoulder. Seven months and twenty-six days, thought Summer. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘about that.’

      ‘Come inside then. Come and …’ Valerie looked directly at Summer, sighed, and then gestured behind her. ‘It’s not the best it’s ever looked. I’ll say that now.’

      Summer followed Valerie through the doors, and gasped. The café took up the front half of the boat, and was big enough for six two-seater tables. At the back was the counter that served as the throne of Madeleine’s mini-empire. She had sold cakes and scones and coffee, either to those inside, or from the hatch that looked out on to the towpath, treating every customer like a dear friend, the blackboard behind her advertising daily specials. The chairs and tables were painted royal blue with red accents, matching the exterior paintwork of the boat, and even the outdoor furniture, stored on the boat in winter, fitted the colour scheme.

      At least, that was the image that Summer had held on to: everything running smoothly, Madeleine so proud of her beautiful café. But now, as Summer stood in the doorway, icy air whispering around the tops of her boots, that shred of reassurance was torn away.

      The café was empty of customers, which was a good thing considering the state of it. The tables were in disarray, chairs askew as if people had left in a hurry, and some of the blue paintwork had been scratched, revealing the wood underneath. A bag’s worth of coffee beans was scattered across the floor, collecting in the corners with dust and, Summer noticed, a couple of sizeable spiders. The windows were smeared on the inside as well as out, and some of the bunting had been pulled down. The counter looked like it was dealing with the aftermath of a squirrel-raid, crumbs and plates and mess everywhere, and the smell of burnt coffee caught in her throat.

      Valerie shrugged her shoulders, her expression contrite, but Summer knew this was her own fault.

      ‘It’s not too bad,’ she said tentatively, running her finger along the top of one table. It caught on a splinter.

      ‘It’s worse,’ Valerie said. ‘I’ve been trying, Summer, I really have. But even during the winter, customers are always … popping in. It’s not always full, but there’s a steady stream and there’s never a minute to recover, and then by the end of the day I’m so shattered.’

      ‘It’s not your fault,’ Summer whispered. ‘What’s happened here?’ She approached the stricken coffee machine.

      ‘It’s stopped working. It just belches steam and spray and makes whirring noises, and then, when I was trying to fix it this morning, I knocked the beans over. And what with Jenny,’ she looked away, ‘really pushing the cakes in The Black Swan, I’m not sure that this place, Maddy’s place …’ Her words drifted off and she glanced at the counter, where a few Jammie Dodgers sat under a glass dome with a sign saying ‘Ten pence each’. ‘Maddy’s not happy with me, I know it.’

      Summer turned to Valerie, her hands clenching into fists. ‘What?’

      ‘Her presence is strong. She can see me failing.’ Valerie crouched and picked up some coffee beans, shoving them into the pocket of her dress. ‘She forgives me of course, but even so.’

      ‘Valerie,’ Summer said, trying to keep her voice even, ‘please let’s focus on getting things back on track. I’m sure it won’t take long.’ She pushed a chair flush against a table, hoping it would make things look instantly brighter. It didn’t.

      ‘Summer,’ Valerie said, giving her a warm smile, ‘it is so good to see you. I don’t know why I didn’t call you sooner.’

      ‘It’s good to see you too,’ Summer said weakly. They both knew that Valerie had phoned Summer before this, but Summer had chosen to ignore her calls, unable to see herself back in the place where her mother – and she – had been so happy. ‘And I’m sorry,’ she added. ‘I’m so sorry Valerie. You shouldn’t have had to look after this place, you’ve got your own life to lead.’

      ‘But I was Maddy’s best friend. I’m next door. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t at least tried to keep the café going. And I’ve fitted my readings in around it. But I do fear my efforts have made things worse than if it hadn’t been open at all. And the coffee machine was the last straw. If we can’t sell steaming cups of coffee on a February morning, then we’ve got no hope.’

      ‘So that’s what I’ll look at first.’ Summer shrugged off her coat and hung it over a chair, rolled up the sleeves of her grey jumper and pulled her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair into a messy ponytail with the hairband that lived constantly on her wrist. The stainless steel was hot to the touch, the coffee grinder at the side empty, and when she opened up the bowels of the machine, steam hit her in the face. She turned away, grasping for a cloth, and found a tea towel that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. She wiped her face on her jumper.

      Valerie hovered beyond the counter, her long silver earrings dangling. ‘So how’ve you been, Summer? I’ve missed you. Willowbeck’s missed you.’

      Summer busied herself with the coffee machine, scooping out chunks of sodden coffee grounds that had been left to pile up, causing the machine to jam. ‘Not too bad, thanks. Work’s busy, we’ve had a few more people join the co-operative, so the studio’s always got a good atmosphere. Christmas was … a bit hard,’ she added, her voice dropping.

      ‘Oh my love,’ Valerie said, ‘How could it not be, without Maddy there? Are your father and brother keeping well?’

      ‘They’re fine,’ Summer said. ‘Ben’s still up in Edinburgh, but he came to Dad’s for Christmas. It was strange, though.’ She hadn’t had a full family Christmas since her parents had divorced, nearly eight years before, but the traditional occasions at her dad’s had always been balanced by the time spent with her mum. More often than not they’d celebrated in The Black Swan, but sometimes they’d taken the boat further up the river and discovered other pubs, her mother quickly becoming the centre of attention, happy to talk to everyone, always smiling, and СКАЧАТЬ