There was no denying it, the afternoon tea party was a raging success. The sun shone, the guests flocked to the café dressed in their best, the food was appreciated and tea was dispensed in gallons from brown-Betty teapots borrowed from the W.I. Arthur put himself in charge of the music and a series of big-band favourites echoed around the walls of the sun terrace. The newly painted chairs and tables were put at the edge, leaving a space for dancing in the middle. Even the most elderly and frail joined in, not quite ready to let go of the dance steps of their youth. Biddy’s bunting fluttered in a warm spring breeze and the movement was echoed by the women’s pretty dresses as they danced.
The local newspaper sent along a journalist who interviewed Millie and a photographer who ate his own weight in cupcakes. Then they stayed to dance, promising to come along to the evening do as well. The party even gathered an audience of tourists and dog-walkers, who cheered and clapped at the end of each dance and took endless shots on their phones.
One part of Millie, the non broken-hearted part, enjoyed it all immensely. Over the years she had learned to be good at hiding her feelings and, today, she had never been more grateful for it. If she appeared blank-faced and exhausted she let people put it down to hard work.
Zoe came over after executing a nifty jitterbug with Beryl, aged seventy-eight. ‘Oh this is so much fun!’ she panted, out of breath. ‘It’s completely awesome. Everyone’s said how much they’ve enjoyed the Valentine’s-themed week too. Well done, Mil.’
‘Well done yourself,’ Millie managed. ‘You and Sean, and Arthur too, have worked on this just as hard.’
‘Has Granddad told you about Daisy?’ Zoe flung herself down on a lime-green chair.
‘No. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet.’
‘Come on,’ Zoe slapped the wall next to her. ‘Sit down for five minutes. You haven’t stopped all afternoon. You look knackered.’
‘Well, thank you.’ Millie perched on the wall.
‘Sorry, Millie. You know what I mean, though. Burning the candle at both ends. Isn’t that what Biddy would say?’
‘Something like that.’
‘In the Mood’ rang out, silencing them for a moment.
‘Oh, get a load of this! Clare dancing with Granddad! Hang on, I’ve got to get a pic.’ Zoe raced off, took the picture on her phone and returned, laughing. She showed Millie. ‘Never thought I’d see that, although she’s the biggest Strictly fan going. She’s going to get so much grief over this!’
Millie looked at the photograph, shielding the screen from the bright sun. Arthur and Clare had huge grins plastered across their faces as they attempted a sedate jive. She smiled. She was very fond of Arthur and it was good to see him having so much fun. She handed the phone back to Zoe. ‘At least she persuaded Arthur to give up being DJ for five minutes. What’s this about Daisy?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Zoe said, her attention on the phone as she scrolled down. ‘Apparently, and this is weirdness beyond a very weird thing, a mystery benefactor has paid for the operation. Daisy was taken in yesterday, had the op, all went well and the best thing of all, the tumour’s benign.’ Zoe grinned. ‘Isn’t that the greatest news ever? She got driven to Bristol in a special doggie ambulance. Must’ve cost a packet.’ She looked up. ‘You don’t look very relieved.’
‘I am.’ Millie forced a happy face. ‘Of course I am. I’m delighted for Arthur and Daisy.’ She knew exactly who had been behind it all. Who else would have the money for such a grand gesture? It would make what she had to do later all the more difficult. The music seemed too loud suddenly, the sun blinding her as it bounced off the terrace’s white walls. She had to get away. She watched as Arthur chivalrously led a beaming Clare back to her chair, where she sat with her great aunt. ‘Look, Zoe, I think I’m getting a headache,’ she began, ‘and I need to check on Trevor, he’s been cooped up in the flat –’
Zoe, however, had other ideas. ‘Hang on a mo’, Millie. You might be about to witness a first in Berecombe’s long and illustrious history.’
‘What?’ Millie couldn’t help but be irritable. She was genuinely developing a headache and needed to take something before it took hold. She still had a long day ahead of her before she could crawl into bed and cry.
‘Look,’ said Zoe wonderingly. ‘Granddad is about to ask Biddy for a dance. I think The Big Berecombe Reconciliation might be about to unfold!’
They watched as Arthur approached Biddy, who was sitting in the shade with some friends, Elvis on her knee. The music prevented them from hearing what he was saying but the meaning of his gestures was clear.
Arthur placed his hand on his heart and put his head on one side. Conciliatory. Then he bowed down low, holding out one hand. Biddy gave him an old-fashioned look, raised her brows and appeared to consider the matter. Millie and Zoe held their breath, then watched as Biddy handed Elvis to her neighbour and took Arthur’s hand in hers.
Arthur led her into a space that had magically appeared in the middle of the group of dancers. He bowed again before straightening and placing a reverent hand on Biddy’s waist. Biddy rested her hand carefully on his shoulder and they began a stately dance to a slow version of ‘Begin the Beguine’.
Millie and Zoe sighed in unison.
‘I think that was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,’ Millie said, through tears.
‘Way to go, Granddad.’ Zoe turned to Millie, her eyes shining. ‘Told him the flowers and grovelling apology would work.’
Millie watched as Arthur and Biddy danced. They were gazing into one another’s eyes with rapt attention. It looked as if their friendship, or romance, or whatever they had, was back on track. She was deeply glad for them. If only it could always be as easy as that. For what had been done to her, flowers and an apology, however grovelling, just wouldn’t be enough.