‘You look amazing,’ Maria said when I met her in the entrance of The Bay Pavilion that evening ready for the Best of The Bay Awards. ‘That’s one serious award-winning dress.’
I gave her a twirl. ‘It’s not too much?’
‘It’s stunning.’
I’d chosen a deep purple dress with a fitted sleeveless bodice embellished with silver glitter, and layers of tulle on the skirts covered with smaller sprinkles of glitter like stars. I actually felt incredible in the dress and strappy silver sandals, but had been worried it was too dressy. Seeing other guests in floor-length gowns, though, my worries dissipated.
‘Wow!’ I said, stepping into the function room when the rest of the team had arrived. ‘They’ve certainly pulled out all the stops.’
Two enormous Christmas trees – must have been about twelve feet each – flanked a stage on which there was a microphone podium. Behind that, a large screen displayed rolling images of the nominated businesses in the various categories. Silver, lilac and purple baubles and ornaments hung from the tree branches among purple and white fairy lights. Garlands in matching colours were strung across the walls and wrapped around pillars. The round tables carried the same colour scheme, with deep purple cloths, silver runners and centrepieces created from church candles, pinecones, ivy, and silver and purple baubles.
‘I match the colour scheme,’ I said to Maria.
‘Must be a good omen,’ she replied.
Several tables were already full and the excited chatter almost blocked out the Christmas music. We sat down, the team insisting that I took the chair with the best access to the stage ready for collecting the award.
The meal was delicious but I struggled with more than a few mouthfuls of each course. It felt like there was a plane in my stomach doing constant loop-the-loops, making me quite nauseous. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so nervous about anything in my life. Why was this getting to me so much? I’d never had a competitive personality. Yes, I’d wanted The Chocolate Pot to succeed and do well, but that was about me being personally driven for success, not about being in competition with others. So why did I so desperately want to win this award?
As the ceremony started, I looked round at the seven eager faces and that plane swooped again. That’s when it struck me why I was so nervous and why this was so important – I wanted to win for them more than I wanted it for me. They deserved it. I had such a strong, reliable, committed team and I wanted them to get the recognition they deserved.
‘The next award is a new category for this year,’ announced the compere, Drew Silvers, one of the DJs from Bay Radio. ‘It’s for the best café or bistro in and around Whitsborough Bay. The nominations in alphabetical order are, The Chocolate Pot, Evie’s, Number 23 and Snackies.’ Drew paused as he opened a silver envelope. I could feel everyone watching me as I stared into my coffee and scrunched my napkin on my lap. Please let us win. Please.
‘And the winner is…’
Swoop went the plane.
‘…The Chocolate Pot.’
My heart was beating so fast, I felt as though it could leap out of my chest at any moment. Hand clamped across my mouth, I looked round the table. My team had all leapt to their feet, cheering and clapping, and I felt such a burst of pride. We’d done it. The team had done it. Pushing back my chair, I made my way towards the stage.
The Lady Mayor was waiting at the top of the steps. She shook my hand, kissed me on both cheeks, then led me to the podium where Drew did the same before handing me an envelope and a large glass star on a silver plinth.
‘If you want to say a few words…?’ He indicated the microphone.
I looked round the room at the sea of faces, all smiling at me, then paused as I spotted Jed on one of the front tables to the right. His smile brightened as I caught his eye and he did look genuinely pleased for me. How strange. Focus, though. I needed to focus.
Leaning into the microphone, unable to stop smiling, I said, ‘From the bottom of my heart, a huge thank you to everyone who voted for The Chocolate Pot. My name’s Tara and I’m the owner and manager. I’m thrilled to be holding this tonight, but this award isn’t for me. This is for my dream team without whom The Chocolate Pot wouldn’t be nominated for an award, let alone be receiving one. I’m so lucky to have been blessed with a wonderful assistant manager, Maria, and a fabulous team. It doesn’t matter whether they work full- or part-time, they’re all enthusiastic, passionate and committed to working hard and delivering exceptional service.’ I held the star in the air and looked directly at table six. ‘This is for all of you and those who couldn’t be here tonight. You made this happen. Not me. You.’
I moved away from the microphone as the audience applauded again. A photographer stepped onto the stage and took several photos, then I was free to return to the team, a big lump in my throat but a huge grin on my face. I deliberately placed the star right in the middle of the table. ‘For all of you,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’
I couldn’t wait for the awards to finish so I could get a round of drinks in and celebrate properly. I was so incredibly proud of everything we’d achieved. The Chocolate Pot meant so much to me and to have that recognised in this way was such an honour. My parents and my foster parents would have been so proud of me. If only they were here to see it.
A few swigs of my wine were definitely needed to calm my nerves. I discreetly opened the envelope which contained a congratulations card, a certificate and a cheque for £500. Very nice. I’d divide that among the team in addition to their usual Christmas bonus.
It took another four awards before the shaking finally subsided and my heart was beating at a normal pace. Huge respect to anyone nominated for a BAFTA, Grammy or Oscar. How they managed to look so calm and composed with millions watching was beyond me. It was such a thrilling, exciting, amazing moment.
‘And for the final award of the night,’ said Drew. ‘This is also a new award this year. You may have noticed that we haven’t revealed a shortlist for this one and that’s because there was one very clear winner as far as the judging panel were concerned. And, when you’ve watched this video, you’ll understand why.’
The stage lights dimmed and a video began playing on the large screen. I recognised an image of The Hope Centre, then the manager, Jim. He briefly explained what they did over footage of their various activities. Had The Hope Centre received an award too? I hoped so. They did such valuable work. I’d spotted Jim and a few of his colleagues at the other end of the function room and made a mental note to catch up with them later.
‘Tara got in touch shortly after we opened to ask if she could help with food,’ Jim said on the film.
That plane did a loop-the-loop in my stomach again. Had he just mentioned my name?
‘She has a café in town, you see – The Chocolate Pot – and they pride themselves on their freshly made home-cooked food.’
My heart began thumping again and I glanced round the table. Most of them were focused on the film, but Maria turned to face me and winked before turning her attention back to the screen.
The film showed Castle Street and The Hope Centre’s van parked outside The Chocolate Pot. I could be seen handing over a couple of boxes and laughing with Jim.
‘There’s sometimes a whole quiche or cake in the boxes,’ Jim said. ‘She pretends they’re spare, but I know she’s made them especially for us. Thing is, it isn’t just Tara now. She persuaded other businesses on Castle Street to contribute, and then extended it throughout the town. We’re so grateful to everyone, but extra grateful to Tara for being the one who started it all. And, as if that wasn’t enough, she now runs workshops on cooking with a budget too. She’s amazing.’
My heart continued to race as various users of The Hope Centre added in their thanks and explained what the food contributions meant to them and their families. I’d known I was helping, but to see and hear from those who had so little and relied on donations was humbling. Yet that wasn’t why I’d come up with the idea. I felt sick. If only they knew.
The image changed to Whitsborough Bay TEC and the Principal, Malcolm Dring, being interviewed outside the entrance.
‘Tara approached me at the start of this year,’ Malcolm said. ‘She said she wanted to give something back to the community and would I consider her and some of the other business owners running a mentoring programme for students interested in running their own businesses. Would I ever? Such a great idea. I never dreamed that Project Hercules would take off in the way it has and become so much more for so many of our students.’
Students I’d helped over the past eight months appeared on the screen, talking about how I’d supported them in setting up a small business, or learning about finances, or in building their confidence.
Members of Bay Trade talked about how I’d helped them. Carly talked about how supportive I’d been when she set up Carly’s Cupcakes. The traders talked about me giving out free drinks at the traders’ Christmas tree lights switch-on, not expecting anything in return. A few charity leaders talked about how I regularly supported their causes with donations of afternoon tea for two. Then, finally, the filming moved into The Chocolate Pot and a few team members talked about what I was like as a boss. I turned and looked round the table again, astonished. They were all in on it. They knew and nobody had breathed a single word.
But did they know I was a fraud?
The film ended with flashing images of all the participants saying thank you.
‘I’m pretty sure there’s one person in the room who is in shock right now,’ Drew said. ‘And that’s the person who that film was all about. She’s already picked up an award for her business tonight and made it very clear that it was for the team and not her. Well, this award is very much for her. The very first award for Outstanding Contribution to the Community goes to Tara Porter from The Chocolate Pot. Welcome to the stage again, Tara.’
Everyone in the room was on their feet, clapping and cheering, as I made my way to the front, heart thumping, stomach churning. Handshakes and kisses were given, then I found myself in front of the podium for the second time in the space of half an hour only this time I didn’t feel proud. I didn’t feel elation. I felt sick. I took a deep breath.
‘Thank you everybody for such a warm reception.’ My voice was shaking. What the hell was I supposed to say? ‘Drew wasn’t exaggerating when he said that I’d be in shock right now. Oh my goodness. I would never in a million years have predicted this.’ I shook my head and took another deep breath. ‘It was the weirdest thing just now watching that film and having this realisation that it was me they were talking about because all those lovely things those people said about me… well, I don’t think of myself like that. Those people on the film, they’re the real stars. Jim and the team at The Hope Centre quite literally give hope to those who need it. I just donate some food. And those students at the TEC? They had it in themselves and only needed a little encouragement and direction. I’m so proud of each and every one of those people in the video and I’m privileged that they’ve let me be part of their journey to success.’ I paused for a moment and looked across at Carly who was wiping tears away. Raising the star in the air, I added, ‘This one’s for everyone in that video…’ I took a deep breath and fought hard to keep my voice steady. ‘And it’s for my parents and my foster parents who taught me everything I know. I wish they could have been around to see this.’ My voice broke and I only just managed to whisper, ‘Thank you again.’
I stepped away from the podium, blinking in the bright lights. What had I said? Had I just mentioned my parents and foster parents? What had made me do that?
‘Just a few photos,’ Drew said, directing me to face the photographer.
I tried my hardest to smile, but it was all too overwhelming and all I wanted to do was escape from the lights and the camera flash and release the scream I could feel building up inside me. I half expected someone to tap me on the shoulder and ask me to hand back the award because they’d made a mistake and discovered that my initial motivation for all those things had been a selfish one – to keep myself occupied so I wouldn’t have to face up to how lonely I was. A chat to Jim each evening when he picked up the donations for The Hope Centre, one evening a month at Bay Trade, and several evenings with the students at the TEC had saved me from the routine of returning to my flat after work, all alone, and not speaking to another soul until the following morning. I’d tried to take my loneliness and bury it in a chest in the sand, but there was no use denying it. Watching that video, everyone would have seen Tara the philanthropist. What I saw was Tara-No-Mates. Tara who had nobody. Like someone gaining weight and refusing to acknowledge it by avoiding full-length mirrors, I’d avoided acknowledging the truth about my situation, but that film had been a mirror held up to me and I didn’t like what it really showed.
There was no denying it. I had to accept that I really had made a huge mistake in shutting myself off from relationships and setting myself up for a lonely love-less existence because of one failed marriage. All round me were happy couples at exciting stages of their relationship – Maria and Marc starting married life, Carly and Liam getting engaged, and new love blossoming between Nathan and Molly. And I had nobody. I knew it was my fault. I knew I’d sworn off men because of Garth, but more and more often recently…
I was swamped with hugs from the team as I returned to the table. The Lady Mayor was making some closing comments and I knew that, if I didn’t get out now, there’d be a parade of people wanting to congratulate me. Grabbing my pashmina from the back of my chair, I whispered to Maria, ‘I’m having a hot flush. Just getting some air.’ I pressed my purse into her hand. ‘Will you get everyone a drink on me?’ Before she could answer, I dashed out of the room.
The cool air hit me as I approached the entrance. Shaking out my pashmina, I pulled it round my shoulders. It wasn’t going to be much protection against the cold November evening but I had to escape.
The Bay Pavilion overlooked the far end of South Bay. It was an impressive Victorian building consisting of a theatre, concert hall, restaurant, bars and several function rooms all nestled round a huge courtyard and bandstand, the latter being used for summer weddings and outdoor concerts. Out the front and to the right was a stone covered walkway with pillars framing the sea, embedded into a low wall that was occasionally interrupted by steps down to the sand. Lanterns strung between the pillars dimly lit the path. Gulping in the sea air, I ran down The Bay Pavilion steps and along to the far end of the walkway, tears pouring down my cheeks. I could feel the cries of anguish bubbling inside me and threatening to erupt like a volcano. ‘Argh!’ I cried, beating my fist against the final stone column. ‘Argh!’
For a moment, I thought I was going to be sick, but the nausea passed and I slumped onto the wall, leaning against the column and pulling my pashmina tightly round me. Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in…
Eventually, my breathing slowed in time to the waves lapping against the wall. Wow! Where had that come from? It had felt almost primeval, this desperate need to release my anguish.
‘Tara? Are you okay?’
I looked up to see Jed standing a few feet away. How much had he seen and heard? I prayed it hadn’t been the screaming. The standard response at times like this was, ‘I’m fine,’ but it was pretty obvious I wasn’t.
Swallowing hard, I took another deep breath. ‘It was a bit overwhelming and emotional,’ I said, wiping at my cheeks.
‘May I…?’ He indicated the wall beside me.
I nodded.
‘It seems you’ve made quite an impact on this town.’
‘It’s all lies,’ I quipped. ‘It cost me a small fortune to get them to say all that.’
He smiled gently. ‘Looked pretty genuine to me.’
What response could I give? Yeah, but I’m a big, fat fraud. The best response was to remain silent.
Only Jed remained silent too.
‘I’m sorry about this morning,’ I said when I couldn’t stand the silence anymore. Better to change the subject.
‘Why? What happened this morning?’
‘I was rude to you, as usual.’
‘Were you? Here was me thinking it was a massive improvement on the recent low of “arrogant con artist”.’
I shook my head. ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Considering what you thought I’d done; it was actually quite tame.’
‘You should have heard what I called you at the time,’ I said.
‘I can imagine.’
Silence.
‘I got your cheque,’ I said.
‘It was the least I could do.’
‘I tried to return it all week, but you weren’t there. You know I can’t accept it.’
Jed frowned. ‘Of course you can. It’s your money.’
‘Which your wife took from me. You can’t pay me back from your own money for something she did. It’s not right.’
‘What Ingrid did wasn’t right. If I’d known—’
I shook my head. ‘But you didn’t know. I really appreciate the gesture, but I will return it.’
‘You won’t.’
‘I will. I really am sorry for what I said. I wasn’t in a good place when I met you. I think you might have got the brunt of my anger at someone else and I’m ashamed to say I’ve held onto that anger for a very, very long time.’
Silence fell again and we both turned to face the sea. The sky was cloudless and speckled with millions of stars. The glow from the moon on the water looked like a silvery ribbon pointing to the shore. It was quite mesmerising watching it rippling, as though part of a rhythmic gymnastics’ routine.
‘I’m sorry about your parents,’ Jed said. ‘When I saw you looking up to the sky this morning, were you talking to them?’
The emotions started bubbling once more and a sob escaped from me.
‘Oh, Tara. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’
‘It’s fine.’ I wiped my tears again. ‘As I said, it’s been an emotional evening. Believe it or not, I’m not one for tears, but everything seems to have set me off this past year. I burned some flapjacks last week and I sobbed for half an hour solid. How ridiculous is that?’
‘Not ridiculous at all. Nobody can stay strong all of the time.’
I looked into his eyes and smiled gently. Something about his tone suggested to me that he understood.
‘I’m so pleased you won those awards tonight,’ he said. ‘You’ve transformed that café. I hardly recognise it as the same place.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I was wondering about the name. It’s quite unusual.’
Another thing I’d never told anyone. I’d been asked about the name before and I always gave my pre-prepared answer: I wanted to specialise in chocolate and threw around a few ideas. The Chocolate Pot was my favourite one. I wasn’t sure Jed would buy it and, after the way I’d treated him, I didn’t feel right about fobbing him off.
‘My mum wasn’t well. She battled every day with her mental health and, because I was young and wouldn’t have understood depression, we used to call it her black cloak. She was never well enough to work so we didn’t have enough money for holidays. Dad had one of those Terramundi pots. You know what I mean? Those pots that you fill with coins and smash when they’re full? I can still picture it so clearly. It was brown but had white at the top with gold speckles on it. I always said it reminded me of a mug of hot chocolate – a family favourite – so it became known as “The Chocolate Pot”. If we managed to lift the black cloak only a little, Dad put a pound coin into The Chocolate Pot. If Mum had a good day, Dad would put in as many coins as he could find. One Saturday when I was seven, Mum woke up feeling great and suggested we all go to the seaside. Dad bundled us into the car and we had the most amazing day in Herne Bay, riding on a carousel and running along the beach. We called it The Best Day Ever because, quite simply, it was. We funded it from The Chocolate Pot although, of course, we had to smash the pot to get the money out.’ My throat tightened and I blinked away the tears again. ‘When customers come into my café, I want them to feel warm, happy and loved, just like I felt on The Best Day Ever. The Chocolate Pot made that day happen so I couldn’t imagine a more perfect name.’
Jed stared at me, his expression soft. ‘What a beautiful memory to be able to hold onto.’
I nodded, swiping at a couple more tears trickling down my cheeks. A sudden gust of wind whipped up the net on my dress and made me shiver.
‘I should probably get back inside.’ I stood up.
In an instant, Jed slipped off his tuxedo jacket. ‘I should have done this earlier,’ he said, leaning round me to drape it across my shoulders but he must have got a button snagged in my hair because my head suddenly snapped back.
‘Crap. I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘Hang on.’
As he untangled my hair, I found myself pressed against his chest, breathing in a fresh citrus scent.
‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘Nearly there.’
I wobbled on my heels and instinctively put my arms round his waist to steady myself. Balance restored, I knew I should let go, yet somehow I couldn’t seem to. He felt warm and solid and… oh my goodness, I hadn’t held a man for fourteen and a half long years. Every nerve in my body seemed to awaken and spark, my heart thudded, and I felt quite light-headed.
‘All free,’ Jed whispered, but he didn’t take his hands away from my hair and I didn’t move away from his chest. I felt his heart thudding and heard his breathing quicken.
‘We should get back in,’ I whispered.
‘We should.’
Swallowing hard, I reluctantly stepped back from his chest, my arms slipping down by my sides. I looked up at him and my heart raced even faster.
‘Thanks for the jacket.’
‘You’ve got a mark on your cheek. May I?’
Swallowing again, I nodded slowly. As he gently ran his thumb across my right cheek, a little sigh escaped from my lips.
He cupped my face in his hand, his eyes searching mine. Was he going to kiss me? I wanted him to. I had no idea why, but something had shifted between us. He was definitely going to…
‘Tara? Is that you?’
I stepped away from Jed and forced myself to smile at Maria. ‘Yes. It’s me.’
‘Oh, thank God. We were getting worried.’
‘I had a moment. It was all a bit much. I’m coming in now, though.’ I turned to Jed. ‘Are you coming back inside?’
He shook his head. ‘I have to go. I need to pick up my daughter from a friend’s house. She can’t drive yet. It’s in a village. So, erm… yeah. I have to go.’
‘Oh, okay.’ I shrugged his jacket off and handed it back to him. ‘You’ll be needing this then.’
As he took it from me, our hands connected and my heart raced once more at his touch. Oh no. This wasn’t good. I couldn’t go falling for the competition. I couldn’t go falling for anyone.
‘Congratulations again,’ Jed said. ‘Enjoy the rest of your night.’
‘Thanks.’
He didn’t follow us but I could sense him watching me as I walked beside Maria.
‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you were with someone,’ she said. ‘Are you two friends now?’
‘No. But I don’t think we’re enemies anymore, either.’
I turned back and looked along the walkway. Jed was now leaning against one of the pillars, looking out towards the sea. It took all my concentration not to run back to him and steal that kiss. No, we definitely weren’t enemies anymore. But could we be something more? Could anybody? I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to try, but I needed to do something. Despite the progress I’d made this year, I was still existing, not living.