Keya tasted a range of chutneys and they agreed they’d stock all but the plum chutney and the spicy piccalilli.
When she and Maitri had finished their tasting and discussion of other items to stock, including Maitri’s suggestion of ready-prepared sandwiches for customers on the go, Keya left the deli and entered the cafe.
It was still a third full, even though it was after four o’clock.
Norman signalled to her from his hot drinks counter, making a T-sign with his hands, and she nodded her acceptance.
Millie was seating an elderly couple and Alison, who’d started working in the cafe the previous month, was serving scones and cakes to three well-dressed ladies. Everything appeared calm and under control.
Together, Millie and Alison had taken over most of the restocking, which was a huge relief to Keya and saved her from rushing to and from the cash and carry. But as she stood watching her employees going about their business, she felt isolated.
Opening a small cafe and deli had been her dream, but at the moment she wasn’t able to live it. She couldn’t complain. The cafe was proving popular, and Maitri was making a real success of the deli, but what was her part in it all?
Glancing towards the kitchen hatch, she saw Mick’s tattooed arm place a toasted panini on a plate beside a small salad and bowls of crisps and coleslaw. Since he’d been released from prison, acquitted of a crime he hadn’t committed, he’d taken well to his work in the kitchen. And that was where Keya would like to be. Not all the time, but at least part of the week, baking and creating dishes for customers to enjoy.
Norman signalled to her as he placed her cup of tea on the counter.
When she approached him, he asked, “What’s bothering you?”
There was no point hiding her feelings, so she said, “I don’t feel part of this anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted with how well the cafe is doing, and I’m grateful for everyone’s help, but I hardly get to spend any time here.”
“That’s because you’re out there ensuring justice is served. And not everyone can do that,” replied Norman, seriously. “People rely on you to find out what happened. I presume you’re currently working on the death of the young woman up at the standing stones.”
“Yes, we are.” Keya sipped her tea.
“It’s important for her loved ones to know how she died. And if it was foul play, to bring the culprit to justice. The cafe’s not going away. Look at how much you’ve achieved in just a year.”
Keya smiled gratefully and corrected, “How much WE’VE achieved.”
“Watch out,” Norman warned, lowering his voice. “Here comes Beanie.”
Keya sipped her tea again as she watched the flamboyant figure of Aunt Beanie sail across the cafe. She waved at the elderly couple who’d recently arrived before reaching the drinks counter.
Dotty, who was following Aunt Beanie, stopped to talk to Millie. They both laughed before also heading towards the hot drinks counter.
“Two cappuccinos,” Millie ordered before moving on to the kitchen hatch.
“Fabulous, you’re here, Keya. I’ve brought Dotty with me so we can discuss plans for Gilly’s birthday before she arrives to talk about the open-air cinema.’
“You have spoken to Dr Peter, haven’t you?” Norman asked in a warning tone.
“Of course,” Aunt Beanie replied contritely. “We’ve agreed to hold the party on her birthday. It’s a Thursday, so that should be OK for most people. And we thought an evening event at the cafe would work best.” Aunt Beanie turned to Keya and smiled in satisfaction.
Keya, who had raised her cup to her lips, stared at the older woman.
“I told you we should have asked Keya first,” Dotty said, before smiling apologetically at her friend.
“A party. Here?” Keya questioned.
“Yes. It’s the perfect venue. We can move the tables around to create space for guests to stand and mingle when they arrive, and then we can serve food from the kitchen. Depending on the weather, people can sit inside or outside and the band …”
“What band?” Keya interjected.
“Why, your friend Sujin’s Celtic Twisters. They’re not cheap, but Millie assured me they’re very good.”
Keya felt her head spin. Not only did she no longer feel part of her cafe, but she was struggling to keep up with her own life.
“Can we sit down?” she suggested. “And walk me through it.”
“Of course,” Aunt Beanie replied, pulling out a chair at a neighbouring table. “And a pot of tea for Dotty and me when you’re ready, Norman.”
Norman rolled his eyes and turned his back as he frothed up milk for the customers’ cappuccinos.
“So it’s Gilly’s birthday this month?” Keya asked.
“Yes, I told you,” Aunt Beanie replied in an exasperated tone. “It’s her big five O. And she’s having all sorts of reactions to it. One minute she’s moaning about being old and the next she’s twittering on about being free and living the second half of her life with nature.”
Dotty smiled.
Which made Keya relax, and she also grinned at her imaginary image of a barefoot Gilly dancing in a meadow with songbirds circling her head.
“It’s serious. You young folk don’t know what it’s like to grow old.”
Dotty and Keya both composed themselves and Keya asked, “So you thought of throwing a party for Gilly, here, at the cafe?”
“Yes,” Aunt Beanie insisted. “It’s the ideal venue.”
Keya leaned back in her chair and looked around. Aunt Beanie had a point. If they pushed the tables and chairs together, they could create an area for people to stand and chat when they arrived and the band …
