she just needed to figure out how. What had that man said, ‘selling dreams’? Perhaps, if she could figure out how, the Shore Café could sell more than just coffee and cake.
40
The village square was getting busier and busier. It was Christmas Eve and Maddie was back at Little Rowland for the Christmas Carol Mash-up. Rachel had persuaded her to come back.
C’mon, Maddie, the choir needs you! It’ll be fun.
The last week had been a bit of a blur, her mind processing everything that had happened, starting at the café, seeing Greg again and all that had followed. Every time her phone went, she got butterflies. He’d sent her a few texts messages apologising for not seeing her, had explained that the manager of the water sports centre, who was meant to be returning, wasn’t now and he was in the midst of a staffing crisis. But he’d also sent her quite a few flirty texts. It was enough just recalling their last time together. She was on cloud nine most of the time, but worried about the future, too. She had to talk to him properly soon.
Stalls had popped up selling coffee, mulled wine and mince pies. Crowds were forming by the low wall, marking the central square in Little Rowland. The post office, coffee shop and flower shop were adorned with tinsel and fairy lights had been woven across the shop awnings. Maddie loved the smell the cinnamon and rich fruit; her stomach rumbled as she breathed it in.
She couldn’t stop grinning. Life was good. For the last few days she’d been getting up about 8 a.m., the sun streaming in through her window. It had been unseasonably glorious. She and Taffie had made a habit of heading for the beach for long, bracing walks. The tide was always low, allowing her to walk further down on the shore, look for shells, and pick her way across the pretty marine debris that had been left, marvelling at the worm patterns. The sun was usually fully up by the time she finished, its honey-coloured glow glistening over the dark ocean.
Before leaving Maris Cottage, she’d been slowly finishing some touches: the blinds in the kitchen, the extra cushions in the lounge, hanging a few pictures on the walls – just charity shop finds, but it made the place feel like hers. She’d also finished the second coat of paint in the kitchen – it had transformed the tired kitchen into a fresher, brighter space, and the gingham blinds added a cheerful touch. She’d decided to paint her front door a bright apple-green instead of the dull mossy-green it had been. She’d then placed two blue ceramic pots outside the house and planted purple and white cyclamen in them. Standing back, yesterday, looking at Maris Cottage, she put her hands on her hips. Olive would have been proud.
The freshly painted walls coupled with the newly stained floors, looked modern and bright. Greg hadn’t been able to help the next day as he’d been busy at the centre after the two boys had been lost. Their parents had come down, and there was an enquiry about what went wrong. It turned out the boys had taken the canoes out without telling the supervisor.
New cream curtains framed the view in the lounge; all in all, the place was feeling much more ‘her’. It was good to have that feeling again.
She stamped her feet to keep warm, her breath billowing in soft grey plumes as she looked around the village square. What about this place? Was it home? Sure, it had been where Ed was at school, where she had a house – a house for sale, by the looks of it. Don’t go round there, Maddie, Tim had warned again via text the other day. Although it all felt familiar, she missed the briny sea air and Maris Cottage.
The choir members were gathering around her. There was Pete from the pet shop studying his hymn sheet, Sheila from the hairdresser’s had just come over to her and given her a hug, and Rachel was approaching her with a steaming coffee. She’d stayed the night with Rachel last night, but was going back to the Isle of Wight tonight, back on the ferry, back for Christmas. She hoped it wouldn’t feel weird. ‘But you’ll be on your own,’ Rachel had said last night, frowning at her. ‘Come stay with us, Maddie, Christmas is for family.’
She’d shaken her head emphatically. A new, firmer Maddie was