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A Season for Second Chances(51)

Author:Jenny Bayliss

“I doubt I’d find a man as reliable as Fernando.”

“The Third,” added Annie.

“Quite,” said Maeve. “I upgraded on the last one.” Maeve wiggled her little finger and winked.

Annie was surprised at how easily her laughter came; she couldn’t remember when she’d felt so light in her heart. Being here with these women, so different to her and yet each of them relatable to her in their own way, she felt bolstered by their camaraderie. She was having fun, pure enjoyment for the sake of it. Annie was still on a high when she flicked off the lamps and headed up to bed. Who would have thought a book club could be so life affirming!

Chapter 34

The following morning Annie’s mind was made up. As soon as she had opened her eyes, she had known that she couldn’t put it off any longer. Her fantasies about reopening the tearoom were not going away, and last night’s comments had only added fuel to the fire. She recalled Alex’s horror at not being able to get a decent coffee when he’d visited; these days even the quietest villages expected to be able to enjoy a proper barista-made coffee. Perhaps an artisan café was just the thing Willow Bay needed. Maybe wintry day-trippers would be attracted by the prospect of a little city luxury in the sticks.

She decided to talk it over with Mari. It could be financially positive for both of them; Mari would gain a steady income from the rent on a previously dormant space, and Annie could try her hand at building a new business. Of course, Mari would be back in the spring, and Annie would have to find somewhere else to live, but she was sure she could find somewhere locally to rent. She knew all these grand ideas would come to nothing if the dreaded nephew, John, convinced Mari to sell. And yet she couldn’t quiet her mind. Her phone rang, making her jump.

“Hello, my dear.” It was Mari. “I’m just checking in to make sure everything is okay.”

“Hi, Mari, it’s lovely to hear from you. I was just thinking about you. How are you enjoying Cornwall?”

“I may be a little bit in love with it. But don’t tell the Nook.” Mari whispered this last part, and Annie laughed. “We’re close by the sea and a two-minute walk to the shops. I won’t lie to you, I haven’t missed that hill.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Annie. “Whereabouts in Cornwall are you?”

“A little place called Mousehole. Isn’t that an adorable name? My friend’s house is too large for one person really but just about perfect for two. I have my own room with an en-suite, and we meet every morning in the sunroom for a pot of tea and some toast.”

“It sounds wonderful,” said Annie.

“And what about you, my dear? How is Saltwater Nook treating you?”

“Very well,” said Annie. “I hardly remember what it felt like to live anywhere else.”

“Ah, I knew the sea would settle in your bones. It takes a special kind of person to live there; not everyone is cut out for it.”

Annie laughed. “Well, I haven’t done the winter yet,” she said. “It might beat me yet. But I’ve been opening the kiosk nearly every day . . . It’s very popular. And I was wondering.”

“Yes?” Mari said in that way people do when they already know what you’re going to ask.

“Well, I was wondering how you would feel about me doing a trial opening of the tearoom? Obviously, I would buy all the stock and register it correctly, it would all be aboveboard. I’ve run my own restaurant, so I know all the red-tape stuff and I’m fully insured, but I’ll take out an extra insurance for the tearoom. And I was thinking that I could give you twenty percent of anything I make, or I could rent the space from you? Whichever you prefer. Have a think about it. You don’t need to answer right away . . .”

“Child, child!” Mari trilled. “Calm yourself.”

Annie’s heart was beating like a bird’s; she hadn’t realized just how much she wanted this until she’d said it out loud.

“Do as you want with the place,” said Mari. “It’s yours till spring, and after that we can negotiate terms. If you make a profit, I’ll take my twenty percent and if you don’t, then I won’t. Does that sound fair?”

“More than fair,” Annie gushed. “Thank you so much! Would you mind if I move a few things about? Maybe make a few changes?” Her brain was on fast-forward, mentally rearranging things, one image after another flashing before her eyes.

“As I said, my dear, do as you wish. I’m not precious about it; it’s been gathering dust for decades. If you can make it useful again, all credit to you.”

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