I cut off the thread, placed my needle safely in my pin cushion, turned the miniature bobble hat the right way round and added it to the basket of colourful hats and scarves I’d spent the day knitting. Christmas might be over for one year but it was never too early to start making decorations for the next one.
‘Sorry, Hercules, but I’m going to have to move you.’ He was partially draped across my knee, doing a great impression of a hot water bottle. Reluctantly, I lifted him up and placed him back on the armchair, stroking his ears. ‘I’ll get changed, then I’m going downstairs to relieve the team. I won’t be long, though.’
Pulling off my snuggly clothes, I changed into my jeans and a purple T-shirt, pulled my long, curly hair back into a knot, then made my way down to the ground floor. At the bottom of the stairs, I paused and listened at the door. Loud music signalled to me that all the customers had gone and the team were cleaning, which wasn’t really a surprise considering it was New Year’s Eve.
Unlocking the door, I stepped into the café and smiled. The chairs were stacked on the tables and two of my other student part-timers, Nathan and Molly, were diligently mopping the floor. I loved that standards never slipped when I wasn’t working and I had Maria to thank for that. Like me, she ran a tight ship.
I greeted Molly and Nathan and asked them to put their mops down and follow me to the front of the café by the serving counter. Maria was busy cashing up, counting a bundle of notes from the till. She smiled at me and indicated with a raise of her finger that she was nearly done.
‘Can you grab Sheila and Brandon from the kitchen?’ I asked Molly.
She nodded and made her way behind the counter and past Maria.
Sheila had been with me for a little over a year. Now in her late fifties, she had run her own café in Hull before semi-retiring to Whitsborough Bay. A gifted chef, she was content to spend most of her time in the kitchen and I was more than happy to use her talents that way. Brandon was another of my part-time students.
Maria lifted the tray out of the till and placed it on the counter with the printed sales report for the day. ‘You’re going to be dead chuffed when you look at the figures for today.’
‘It’s been busy, then?’
‘Busy? Oh my goodness, it’s barely stopped all day. Then, poof, they all disappeared. Anyone would think they had somewhere better to be. The last half hour was dead so we’re nearly cleaned up already, the cakes and leftovers are packaged up ready for The Hope Centre, and there’s a plate of quiche and salad for your dinner tonight.’
‘Thank you so much. Super-efficient as always.’
A few minutes later, Molly emerged from the kitchen, followed by Sheila and Brandon. ‘Gather round,’ I said. ‘Firstly, thanks for today. Maria tells me you’ve been busy.’
There were murmurs about it being ‘packed’, ‘heaving’ and ‘never-ending’ but it was all good-natured. They weren’t scared of hard work and I knew they all preferred to be kept busy as it made the shift go faster.
‘And thank you for everything you’ve done this year,’ I continued. ‘I’m very proud of you all.’ I looked round the smiling group. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m sure you have somewhere else you’d rather be right now so you’re welcome to head home and I’ll finish off.’
Chattering excitedly, they headed upstairs to retrieve their belongings from the staff room.
‘Have I told you lately that you’re the best boss ever?’ Maria said.
‘Get away with you. It’s New Year’s Eve. Anyone would do the same.’
She shook her head, smiling. ‘You’re sure you won’t change your mind about seeing in the New Year with us?’
I grimaced. ‘Thanks but I prefer to stay in for New Year. Have a good time, though.’
‘We’ll try. What are your plans, then?’
‘I’ll drop off the food at The Hope Centre and then, as far as I’m concerned, it’s no different from any other Sunday night. I’ll have my tea, watch TV or read, then go to bed.’
‘You will stay up past midnight to see the New Year in?’
I shrugged. ‘Probably. Too many fireworks going off round town to make it worth trying to sleep.’
‘I’ve got your stuff.’ Sheila handed Maria her bag, coat, and scarf. ‘Thanks for the early finish, Tara.’
‘Happy New Year, everyone,’ I said, opening the door to let them out. ‘Have a great evening, whatever you’re doing, and I’ll see you next year.’
Wishing me all the best, they bundled out of The Chocolate Pot and set off in different directions along the cobbles of Castle Street. I stepped outside, watching them for a moment, before looking up at the fairy lights strung between the shops and cafés like a ribbon of stars connecting the buildings. Another week and they’d stop being illuminated at night. Another week or so after that and they’d be gone for another year. It was always a sad day when the cherry picker appeared and the lights were taken down. I might not celebrate on Christmas Day but even I felt like there was something magical about Christmas on Castle Street. Each business took pride in creating enticing window displays and the whole street looked and felt so warm and inviting.
I pulled the door closed behind me and moved towards the middle of the cobbles. Standing under the white lights, I gazed up to the starry sky as I often did on an evening, wondering if my parents were up there somewhere looking down on me. Were they proud of me? Had I turned out how they’d hoped, despite everything? Glancing up and down the street at the fairy lights in the various shop windows, I felt alive and, for a brief moment, I was Pollyanna again, believing in everyone and everything.
A very brief moment.
‘That’s enough of that,’ I muttered to myself. Stepping back into the café, I locked the door, then made my way to the counter and reached for my yellow mug. Hot chocolate time.
While my gingerbread hot chocolate cooled, I put the till tray away in the safe, finished mopping the floor, and emptied the buckets. Switching off all the lights except those at the very back of the café, I took my mug and the sales report to one of the high-backed leather armchairs. Glancing down the sales figures, I smiled. Maria was right – very impressive. They must have worked their socks off.
A knock on the door made me jump.
‘It’s only me,’ shouted a woman through the letterbox.
I smiled as I recognised Carly’s voice.
‘Have you been busy?’ she asked when I let her in.
‘Maria said they never stopped. What about you?’
‘Same. It’s all good, though.’
‘Do you want a drink?’ I hoped she’d say no. The sooner I could get to The Hope Centre – a local charity for the homeless and vulnerable – the sooner I could be back upstairs with Hercules, shutting out the world and ignoring the fact that it was New Year’s Eve. Christmas Day was bad but New Year’s Eve was even worse. It held too many memories and too many regrets.
‘I’ve just had one, thanks,’ Carly said. ‘I came to do you a favour. Liam’s loading some cupcakes into my car for The Hope Centre. We wondered if we could take your donations and save you the trip.’
‘Really? That would be brilliant. Thank you.’ Relief flowed through me. I’d never have been able to drop-and-run. They’d have insisted on inviting me in and making me a drink and I’d be asked how I was seeing the New Year in, followed by the curious expressions when I revealed I’d be doing nothing.
‘Do you need a hand with anything?’ Carly asked.
‘No. It’s all bagged up ready to go. Give me two minutes and I’ll be out.’
‘I’m freezing,’ Liam said after we’d loaded up the car. ‘I’m going upstairs to grab a hoodie.’ He disappeared into Carly’s shop.
‘Are you sure you won’t join us tonight?’ Carly asked, closing the boot.
Why did people keep asking me that? I shook my head. ‘I haven’t celebrated New Year’s Eve since my wed—’ I stopped but I was too late. I’d already said half the word.
‘You got married on New Year’s Eve.’ Carly looked at me with big, sad eyes. ‘That’s why you don’t celebrate it.’
What was going on? Why did I keep revealing information?
‘I met Garth on New Year’s Eve,’ I muttered. ‘He proposed the same day two years later and we married exactly a year after that. I’ll regret the day I met him forever so, thanks to him, I hate New Year’s Eve with a passion.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Carly said. ‘I’m not pushing, either. I’d never have mentioned it if you hadn’t nearly said “wedding”. The offer’s still on the table. I’m here if and when you’re ready for the next part of your story.’
Liam stepped out of Carly’s Cupcakes, pulling a hoodie over his head. ‘That’s better. Are we all set?’
Thanking them both for taking the food to The Hope Centre, I wished them a Happy New Year, then headed back into The Chocolate Pot, shoulders drooped. So Carly knew a bit more. That tower was going to keep crumbling, wasn’t it? I should never have let my guard down with her. I should have kept it strictly about business but it had got harder and harder to keep Carly at arm’s length. She was so warm and friendly and she made me laugh. I missed having a friend in my life who could do that. Although the last person who’d done that had been Leanne and look how that turned out. Better to keep a distance. Safer.
‘Hercules?’ I called, returning to the flat. I placed my plate of tea in the fridge and the sales report on the worktop. ‘Where’s that gorgeous bunny rabbit?’
Hercules came bounding towards me, his nose twitching. Bending down, I scooped him up into my arms, kissed his head, and stroked his ears. When I’d researched how to care for house rabbits, I’d read that they didn’t particularly like being handled and that had been true for Titch and Dinks. Not Hercules, though. He was the most adorable, affectionate, snuggly bunny in the world. Animals. Better than humans any day. Always there for you with unconditional love and hugs.
‘Let’s get you some food,’ I said, putting him back down. Obedient as always, he followed me to his feeding station in the kitchen where I put some fresh water in his bowl, topped up his food pellets and added a handful of chopped cabbage and kale into his third bowl.
While he munched, I filled myself a glass of water, headed over to the sofa, and sat for a moment, looking round. I wondered what my team – or anyone else who knew me, for that matter – would say if they could see me in my home environment. They’d probably be surprised. The only people who’d ever seen the inside of my flat were the trades. Even Carly had never been in. I’d always engineered it so that I went to her flat or we stayed downstairs in the café. With comfy seats, cosy lighting and plenty of refreshments to hand, there’d never been a reason for her to venture upstairs.
I doubted anyone would guess I had a house rabbit, and they’d be stunned to discover that I was a closet crafter. Everyone knew I did Pilates and that I sometimes went swimming, although I let them assume I meant a few lengths in the warmth of the leisure centre pool rather than a bracing dip in the North Sea. Dad had been a keen swimmer and had taught me, taking me to the local indoor pool regularly from when I was a baby. Kirsten and Tim had loved it too and had introduced me to open water swimming in the River Thames. It was so much more exhilarating than a chlorine-filled swimming pool and I was immediately hooked. Leanne detested swimming and Garth had never learned so it was something that just belonged to the three of us. The first time I’d donned my wetsuit and ducked beneath the waves of the North Sea, about two weeks after moving to Whitsborough Bay, I’d known it was a little part of my old life I was going to cling on to – something untouched by Leanne and Garth, something that somehow kept that tiny connection with Kirsten and Tim as well as to my dad.
I set the log burner going and lit the scented candles on the hearth. With warm-white fairy lights on, the ambiance was exactly how I liked it. It normally relaxed me immediately, yet I couldn’t seem to settle.
And I knew exactly why – sodding New Year’s Eve and memories of Garth.
He didn’t deserve even a minute of my precious time yet I knew I could easily waste the whole evening on him if I didn’t pull myself together. Sighing, I picked up the sales report from the kitchen worktop and took the stairs up to the mezzanine level – my office and crafting studio – where I entered the figures on my account’s spreadsheet. Calculating the percentage increase in sales from the same date the previous year made me smile although it wasn’t about the money. For me, it was about running a successful business. It was about me making decisions that affected my life instead of someone else making them for me. It was about me being in control instead of being controlled.
Picking up an A4 pad, a clipboard and some pens, I returned to the lounge area and started a wish list and planner for The Chocolate Pot for the year ahead. There were going to be a few staff changes. One of my full-timers, Niamh, would be going on maternity leave in March and wasn’t planning to return, and two of my students, Lana and Cody, were going to university in September. Lana was staying in the area so wanted to keep her part-time job but Cody was going… actually, I wasn’t sure where he was going, but it wasn’t local so he needed replacing. I also had a hankering to do something else in the community, but what? I’d always supported The Hope Centre with leftovers. Could I do something more for them? Workshops about food preparation on a tight budget, perhaps? Or maybe I could work with colleges in the area, providing guidance to students interested in running their own businesses and mentoring anyone who decided to make a go of it? Either of those options would be perfect for getting out and about a bit more. I spent far too much time in the flat, thinking, regretting.
The next couple of hours passed quickly while I scribbled down more ideas. When my stomach rumbled, I took it as a cue to stop working, retrieved my quiche and salad from the fridge, and settled myself at the table with a magazine.
As soon as I stopped focusing on the business, Garth was in my head again. Perhaps I should have accepted Maria’s or Carly’s invite to spend the evening with them instead of moping round the flat, stewing about the past. Maria and Marc were hosting a party at Marc’s house but it sounded like it was all couples and their kids. Not for me. It was hard enough being on my own, thinking about what Garth had done to me, but being surrounded by happy couples and children, knowing that he’d made me into a person who could never have that, was a million times worse.
Keen to empty my head of all Garth-related memories, I thought again about Sofia and George’s adorable request to Santa for them to unite as a proper family. I was exceptionally cynical about romance in my own life but couldn’t seem to stop being a romantic Pollyanna when it came to other people in love. My Christmas wish for Carly and Liam to get together had come true. I hoped my wish for Maria and Marc would come true too. Despite what happened with Garth, I still believed true love existed; just not for me. How could I not believe in love after I’d seen my parents together? Even on her darkest days, Mum had always looked at Dad with such adoration, and everything he said and did showed how much she meant to him. Kirsten and Tim, my foster parents, had clearly been very much in love too. Despite demanding careers, they always made time to be together and they used to write affectionate messages to each other on Post-it notes and leave them round the house. Whenever I thought about them, I pictured them laughing or dancing. Yes, I certainly knew what true love looked like.
‘You’re the only fella for me, aren’t you, Hercules?’ I said, picking him up. ‘How about you and I see the New Year in with a film-fest?’
Curling up on the sofa with Hercules, we immersed ourselves in a couple of action movies. Car chases, guns, explosions – exactly what I needed to distract me from my fourteenth New Year’s Eve in a row, all alone, thinking about how different things could have been if I’d never met Garth Tewkesbury. If I’d never been fostered by the Sandersons. Or if my wonderful dad hadn’t died, leaving my mum unable to cope with me, or with life.