All Aboard: A perfect feel good romance

The welcome she got was cheerier, even if it wasn’t much warmer inside the shop than out. The sawdust on the floor, she was sure, was unnecessary, but Adam had always kept his business as traditional as possible.

‘Are my eyes deceiving me?’ Adam said, looking up from where he was scribbling something in a book. ‘I thought you’d given up this place.’

‘I’m back,’ Summer said, ‘for today at least. How are you? How’s Charlie?’

‘He’s out back,’ Adam said. ‘Turning into a good apprentice. It’s the same as ever, we’re still busy, still doing lots of deliveries. What can I do for you?’

Summer looked at the items under the glass. ‘I’d like some of your bacon please, smoked. Quite a bit, actually.’

Adam raised his eyebrows. He had thinning mid-brown hair, a cheerful face, and a red and white striped apron over his white coat. ‘You’re back in the café, then?’

Summer shifted from one foot to the other. ‘I’m helping Valerie out. I thought, as it’s so cold, bacon sandwiches might go down well. I’m glad you’re busy,’ she added. ‘It seems so quiet here today. I’ve hardly seen anyone. Is it like this all the time now?’

‘It’s still early, girl,’ Adam said. ‘But I’ve seen that it’s struggling a bit, your café.’ He counted out the rashers, his face fixed in concentration.

Summer’s words disappeared. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t hers, that she had never asked for it, that the last thing she had wanted was to be in charge, because that meant her mum wasn’t there to run it any more.

‘Of course,’ Adam continued, when she failed to fill the space, “winter months, it’s going to be quieter, isn’t it?” It’ll soon pick up. And Valerie’s a trooper, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, she’s been amazing for even trying to keep it going.’ She bit her lip, realizing how mean that sounded. Adam handed over the bacon and she got her purse out, paid and thanked him, then hurried outside, wondering if it was possible to get it wrong with everyone in Willowbeck before lunchtime. Of course, she thought, looking up at The Black Swan, she’d do that with Jenny and Dennis just by being here.

When she got back to the café Valerie had moved the chairs and tables to the edges of the space, and was polishing the floor, all trace of coffee beans and spiders gone. The smell of pine-scented cleaner filled the air. ‘I thought I’d give it a going-over,’ she said.

‘It looks better already. I’ve got bacon, but we need rolls – do you have any?’

‘Oh no,’ Valerie admitted. ‘I could barely come up with any cakes, let alone think of doing sandwich fillings. The newsagents do white bread.’

Summer chewed her lip. ‘I think rolls would be better. Will you be all right if I disappear for half an hour, get a few bits from the shop? I could get some cakes up and running too.’

Valerie nodded and smiled. ‘I knew you’d fix it all,’ she said.

‘I’m not,’ Summer protested. ‘Anyone would struggle running the café entirely on their own. I’m helping you get back on your feet, that’s all.’

‘It’s not my feet that should be here. I’m doing this for Maddy and for you, Summer, but I have my own job to be getting on with. The money I get for my readings is even more important now.’ She gestured around her, and Summer felt her cheeks redden, realizing that Valerie would have had to buy supplies as well as everything else. ‘I was never cut out for this,’ Valerie continued. ‘Maddy left the café to you, and you loved it, didn’t you? Being here with her.’

‘Of course I did. But I have my job, my flat – and I’ve got a dog now. I never lived here, because—’

‘Because it was Maddy’s. But Summer,’ Valerie put her mop down, ‘she’s not here. The living space is empty, the café’s failing. It’s turning into a ghost ship…’

Summer gave Valerie a sharp look, but she carried on unperturbed.

‘And I know that Maddy wants you here, carrying it on for her. You’ve shown, already, that you were meant to be here.’

‘I’ve cleaned out the coffee machine and bought some bacon,’ Summer said, exasperation creeping into her voice. ‘That’s all. This place is still a mess, we’ve got hardly anything to sell and there aren’t any customers. I can cook all the bacon I want, but if there’s nobody to eat it then what’s the point? I know you’ve given up a lot to keep it running, but I can’t just come back, Valerie. It isn’t that simple.’

‘So sell it,’ Valerie said, her hazel eyes meeting Summer’s. ‘Get rid of the boat. Be done with it.’

Summer froze.

‘I’m serious. If you don’t want to be here, then sell it and do something else with your mum’s money. There’s no point in it limping along like this.’

Summer shook her head.

‘I’m not trying to be cruel, Summer, but really, you have to do something.’

‘I have to go to the supermarket,’ Summer said, backing towards the door.

‘Well,’ Valerie said, sploshing the mop into the bucket and then sweeping it in a wide, soapy puddle over the floor, ‘that’s a start.’

By the time she returned from Ely with carrier bags full of cake ingredients and crusty white and wholemeal rolls, the hatch at the side of the boat was open and Valerie was leaning out, handing blue cardboard coffee cups to a young couple togged up in woolly hats and gloves. Summer hurried aboard, her eyes widening at the transformation.

The floor was clean, the tables and chairs back in place and crumb free, waiting for repairs and decoration. The counter was gleaming, the Jammie Dodgers nowhere to be seen, and the smell coming from the coffee machine made Summer yearn for a spiced latte.

‘Wow.’

‘They were our first customers,’ Valerie said. ‘Appeared as soon as I opened the hatch. I’ve cleaned up a bit, but the offerings are pretty paltry.’

‘Hopefully this will help,’ Summer said, holding up her bags. ‘Let’s get the bacon on, I can sort out some rolls and then mix up some brownies.’

‘Ooh,’ Valerie said, her voice taking on a dreamy tone, ‘you and your brownies. Maddy always said they were the best thing she sold.’

‘Hardly,’ Summer said, but she felt a smile tug at her lips – until she saw the state of the kitchen.

‘I haven’t had a chance to come back here yet,’ Valerie said.

‘That’s OK,’ Summer murmured. She glanced at the door that led to the cabin, her mum’s living quarters compressed because of the café taking up half the length of the boat. She’d watched countless films on the sofa, curled up alongside her mum, the boat undulating softly.

Summer never got over how snug her mum’s living space was, but her mouth dried out at the thought of stepping in there now. How could it have any warmth to it when Madeleine was gone? She thought of Valerie’s words, about how her mum’s presence was strong, and imagined her sitting on the sofa staring at the blank television screen, her pale face devoid of emotion.

She shook her head angrily – she was not about to indulge Valerie’s ghostly beliefs – dropped her bags on the floor and stared at the scatter of plates, spoons and mixing bowls covering every surface and filling the sink.

‘Tell me what I can do,’ Valerie said from the doorway.

‘Can you keep serving coffee?’ Summer asked. ‘I need to make this place gleam, and then I can start cooking.’

‘You’re sure you don’t want me to do that?’

‘I’m sure,’ Summer said. ‘You’ve cleaned the café, Valerie, now it’s my turn to get my hands dirty.’ She ran hot water and began piling things into the sink.

It wouldn’t take long to get the kitchen back to its former, polished glory, but Summer knew that wouldn’t be enough to rescue the café, to return it to the sparkling, welcoming place that Maddy had put her heart into. And after getting over the initial hurdle of returning to Willowbeck and The Canal Boat Café, Summer wasn’t sure that she had the will to stick it out.

Chapter 2 (#u5d89ec9e-695b-511b-9e13-75c1432b61f0)

By eleven o’clock, they were serving their first bacon sandwiches through the hatch on to the towpath. The inside of the café still needed some work – the scratches needed to be fixed, the windows polished and the whole place given a thorough, deep clean – not to mention the personal touches, like flowers on the tables, that Maddy had always taken so much time over. But at least they were open, they were serving, and a batch of brownies was in the oven.

Sweat was running down Summer’s back, and her face was flushed, her wavy hair turning to frizz in the heat from the oven. She had put all her energy into cleaning and then baking, feeling that she could do more behind the scenes than out at the front, talking to customers. Besides, she hadn’t been at Willowbeck for months, the regulars would be more familiar with Valerie – if there were any regulars left.

‘Summer, do you think we should put the blackboard out now?’