The Cafe by the Sea

“OMG, look at you, you run a shop!”

Flora went pink.

“Shut up!”

“This is going to sound mad,” said Lorna. “But you’re looking well. Like, happier.”

“That’s because people have stopped spitting at me in the street,” said Flora.

“They didn’t do that. People forget. And you’re here.”

“Temporarily,” said Flora stoutly. “Anyway, what would you like?”

“What’s the spiciest thing you have?”

“Is this for you?”

Now it was Lorna’s turn to go pink.

“Sometimes Saif and I have lunch when he’s got a quiet day.”

“Do you now?”

Flora started bagging up a haggis pasty.

“Just as friends,” said Lorna.

“Obviously,” said Flora.

Lorna sighed.

“What happened to your hot lawyer bloke?”

“He went back to London,” said Flora. “And I haven’t heard from him since.”

She handed over the bag.

“Christ, we are shit at this,” said Lorna.

“We are seriously the pits,” agreed Flora, rubbing her eyes. “Seriously. Isla and Iona both have boyfriends.”

“There’s three times as many men as women on Mure,” said Lorna. “How can we suck so badly at this? Especially you, you’re a seal.”

“Shut up, colleen of the glens.”

“We are such failures!”

Flora sighed.

“At least we’re failures together. Oh, I meant to ask you. Charlie . . .”

“Mr. Outward Adventures?”

“What’s his deal?”

“I don’t know him,” said Lorna. “Honestly. He’s not from here.”

“He’s from, like, three islands away!”

“I know,” said Lorna. “Total stranger.”

“Oh my God, you are so useless.”

“Why, do you like him?”

Flora shrugged.

“I think . . . I think he’s cute. Which means I am instantly doomed. That is how it must always be for me.”

Lorna laughed and turned to go.

“Well, have a very successful unsuccessful day.”

“And to you,” said Flora. “Can we meet up soon and drink lots and lots and lots of wine? And then feel sick but not care and drink some more?”

“Yes, please,” said Lorna fervently, ringing the bell on her way out and startling Colton, who was heading in.

“Well well well,” he said, sounding pleased. “You did it. Not bad for a bunch of money-grubbing sharks!”

“Thank you,” said Flora.

“Have you told them about the party?”

“You’re going to feed people till they give in, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding? Look at the day out there. It’s so beautiful. And yes, I’m going to stop a marauding horde of great big metal monsters from storming across my landscape. Yes, I am. Now give me some cheese.”

He scratched his beard casually.

“So. Um. Your brother.”

Flora looked up expectantly. There was definitely something in the water today.

“Mmm.”

“Is he . . .?” Colton took his glasses off and then put them back on again.

“Yes?”

“Well, I mostly wondered . . .”

Even billionaires, thought Flora. Even billionaires turn into teenagers once again when they like someone. This felt like school.

Colton looked a bit pink as Iona bustled in with a fresh tray of Annie’s iced buns. It was amazing, Flora thought, to see everything her mother had done for them rising again. Being enjoyed again. Because it had felt, when she’d died, as if she’d left a big empty hole. And yet here it was. And she had thought it would be sad, but she felt, strangely, anything but.

She turned her attention back to Colton.

“Yes?” she said, smiling.

Colton looked around, as if realizing where he was, and blinked. Whatever it was he’d been meaning to say, the moment had gone.

“Um. Right. Well. Whatever. I mean, you’ll ask him . . . you’ll ask him to cater, right? Over at the Rock? He can give it a shot, can’t he? The two of you. Well, all of you.” He gestured to the shop.

“Oh!” said Flora, who hadn’t been expecting this. “What about your expensive chef?”

“He’s . . . Yes. He’s still with us. But he’d work under Fintan. For Fintan. For him.”

Flora smiled.

“Wow. I’m sure Fintan will be amazed. If my dad can spare him.”

Colton looked as if he had something to say about that, but just then Maggie Buchanan came in, with her usual distracted smile and perfect clothes.

“Hello, Mrs. . . .”

“Buchanan,” hissed Flora.

“Mrs. Buchanan! Great to see you! Like what we’ve done here?”

Maggie looked around. She sniffed loudly.

“Not before time. It was a disgrace leaving this place empty. I hope you’re going to paint the outside.”

“Um, yes, ma’am,” said Colton. “I’m Colton Rogers.”

She looked at him blankly, which was pretty ballsy, Flora thought, given that she knew exactly who he was.

“Yes,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m having a party at my new place, the Rock,” Colton went on, undeterred. “And I’d very much like you to come.”

“Would you now?” said Maggie. “Four scones, please, Flora. No raisins.”

Flora got to it, fumbling with the till rather, and Maggie turned round with a “good day” and left the shop without another word.

“She hates me,” said Colton.

“You’d better make it a great party,” said Flora.

The painters had arrived before the close of business.




And so it went on. Right from the start, the Café by the Sea was incredibly busy; from the first lattes at 8 A.M. until the final slice of cake was taken away at four, every day was a blur.

The oddest thing was, given everything that was going on both there and on the farm, as well as in London, if you were to ask Flora what her worries were at that point, she would have looked at you, confused. Because she was too busy worrying about what fish were coming in that morning to make fish cakes with, or whether they were going to run out of cream, or whether the bramble jam was going to be too sour.

On top of that, there was the party to plan.

They met up at the Rock on a cool, clear July day, with fragments of cloud banked against the bottom of the sky as if waiting until they were needed. Fintan was playing hookey from the farm for the day, and looked as ever overjoyed to have thrown off the yoke. His entire gait was looser.

“So the cheese is going out on, like, taster plates,” he was saying. “You’ll make those oatcakes again, but you know, if you’re making some more, what about adding, maybe, a little chili to the mix? And some cheese, just to make them incredible? And we’ll use the farm butter, and we can just brand it; then if we’ve already got, like, the fruit pies . . .”

“You’ve planned it very well,” said Flora encouragingly. “It’s going to be great.” They walked up the path together, touring the little cottage garden.

“Because, look! They have raspberries here, and fresh mint and everything. My God, what you could do with this place. Look at it all!”

He looked so happy, standing among the rows of fresh herbs and vegetables, completely in his element. Flora smiled at him.

“And you’re going to like working with Colton,” she said, not really considering her words.

He stiffened suddenly.

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