Page 9 of Autumn at the Cornish Garden Café

‘I was at a crossroads, and I needed to make some big decisions.’

‘Oh, the old crossroads in life, eh?’ He winked at her. ‘I’ve been at a few of those myself over the years. Difficult at times, aren’t they?’

Rosa nodded. ‘I was … coming out of a difficult relationship and I needed to decide what came next. My aunt passed away and left me her house. Having grown up there, I didn’t want to live there now … it was far too big for one person… so I sold it and looked for somewhere to live. I always dreamt of opening my own bookshop. A childhood friend of mine who lives in Porthpenny told me there was a shop for sale here with a flat above it, and I knew I had to see it.’ She gave a small shrug. ‘As soon as I did, I fell in love with it and that was that. Here I am.’

‘There are worse places to live.’ Christoper smiled. ‘I’ve had a very happy life here, in all honesty. It’s not the same without my wife, but I doubt I’ll be hanging around long and so I try to make the most of my days. I’m trying to sort everything out now because I don’t want to leave a mess for someone else to deal with.’

‘You don’t have any family around then?’ she asked, aware of what Vinnie had told her, but not wanting to seem like she was assuming anything. There could be someone else around, surely? But then she thought of herself and how she had no one other than Sita. There was her father, but he was virtually a stranger so she couldn’t exactly reach out to him for support. She’d considered it when things had got really bad but then she’d realised that it would seem odd to say, ‘Hey, Dad, I know I haven’t seen you in years because you emigrated to Australia with your second wife, but I’m really low at the moment and could do with your love and support. How does that sound?’ He hadn’t cared when she was a child and he wouldn’t care now she was an adult, so it was better for her to manage alone and not to have any expectations of others. That way she wouldn’t feel let down or hurt because feeling hurt was the worst, especially when the person who should have had your back above all others decided to lie to you in the very worst of ways.

‘I don’t, no,’ Christopher shook his head. ‘My wife and I couldn’t have children. When we were trying, it was a long time ago and medicine wasn’t as advanced as it is now. We didn’t want to go through tests and possibly intrusive examinations and so we left it to fate. We had each other, and we felt lucky for that and so we spent our days loving each other and waiting to see what each month would bring. It never brought a child, sadly, as I know that for Dolly it would have meant the world. Not that I didn’t want to be a father because I did, but Dolly wanted it with every fibre of her being. To feel a baby grow in her womb and then to hold that child in her arms was a dream she had from the moment we met.’ He paused and took a sip of tea, his eyes watery when they met Rosa’s again. ‘It wasn’t to be, though. With the passing of time, we gradually accepted it and tried to enjoy other things. There was Dolly’s niece, of course, her sister’s girl, but then her sister and brother-in-law emigrated to Canada and so we never saw the girl again. We could have travelled out there, but Dolly was afraid of flying and they never came back to the UK. And as much as Dolly loved her niece, she was someone else’s daughter. In contrast to your situation because your aunt raised you, correct?’

‘She did. She was my mother’s sister. I lost my mother when I was six and my father had already gone to Australia by that point, so I had no one else.’

‘I’m sure it was a pleasure for her to raise you.’

‘You’re very kind, Christopher, thank you. I don’t know that my aunt felt she had a choice. She was a good woman though, and I had a happy childhood.’

‘Did you feel you missed out at all? On having a father figure around?’ he asked gently.

Rosa thought about the question. She’d considered it herself over the years, of course she had. ‘Sometimes I wished he would turn up on the doorstep and tell me he loved me and was coming home to take care of me. But then I’d think about the reality of who he was and how he wasn’t there for me over the years, and it hit me every time that my aunt was the person who loved me. She showed me how much she cared through what she sacrificed for me and I loved her for it.’ Rosa’s heart ached as she thought of how much she missed her aunt and how much she’d love to see her again. ‘I lost her eighteen months ago and I miss her so much.’

‘Grief is the price we pay for love.’ Christopher shook his head and stared at his mug. ‘But how dull life would be if we didn’t love others. Love is a beautiful gift and finding love in another human being, whether romantic love or another form, is a wondrous thing indeed. I would suffer this pain of grief a million times over just to have my time with my wife again.’

Rosa swallowed hard. She understood this type of pain and grief. The pain of loving someone and losing them, even when her loss had been a different kind. At least for Christopher, losing his wife had been because of age and not because she had chosen to leave him. Rosa was coping with the pain of loss and the sting of rejection and betrayal. The end of her relationship had called into question everything she’d spent years trying to believe in, and it was hard to get past that. How did you trust even yourself when the person you’d put your faith in wasn’t the person you’d believed them to be at all?

After they’d drunk their tea, he led her through the hallway. Pushing open a door, he revealed his library and Rosa was breathless at the beauty of it. French doors revealed a beautiful side garden where trees showed their autumn shades of gold, red, and brown. Floor to ceiling bookshelves showcased books, books, and more books. There was a desk against the inner wall and a chaise longue near the window with a small side table.

‘Some books in here are recent releases but there are many older volumes that may be of interest to you.’ Christopher pointed at some shelves where hardback books were lined up in size order with covers ranging from dark red to varying shades of brown and blue. ‘Please feel free to have a good look.’

Rosa walked to the bookshelves and touched a hand reverently to the spines. She could see a complete set of novels by Charles Dickens and a set by Jane Austen. Choosing a novel, she took it from the shelf, admiring its pristine cover before carefully opening it. She raised it to her face and inhaled the beautiful old book smell. Placing it back on the shelf, she browsed more of the shelves and her heart rate increased as it always did when she was surrounded by books. She could comfortably while away days, weeks, and months reading in this room.

‘I have a few things to do, so I’ll leave you to see if there’s anything you want here. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.’ Christopher went to the door.

‘Wait!’ Rosa turned to him. ‘Are you sure about this? I mean … Are you sure you want to divide up this incredible library? It seems such a shame. There’s a lifetime of reading here, books you’ve collected and cared for like—’ She pressed her lips together, aware of what she was about to say.

‘Like children?’ he asked, voicing her words. ‘For Dolly, they were her children. Collecting books became her obsession. She suffered somewhat from anxiety and depression, but reading was her escape. If we’d had children, then she might have been different, I think. Instead, she found solace in reading and collecting books. I’d often return from work to find her curled up on the chaise near the window, the lamp on while the garden beyond lay in darkness. Over the years, we had cats and dogs and they’d keep her company and snuggle up with her.’ His eyes glassed over as he remembered and Rosa listened, entranced by the image of the woman who’d once lived here and spent her days in this library. How sad that she hadn’t been the mother she’d longed to be, but how wonderful that reading had provided her with comfort. ‘We rarely watched TV and instead, we’d eat dinner, then I’d join her in here and sit at the desk reading or sorting through bills and business documents, while she’d read. Afterwards, before bed, we’d talk about what she’d read that day and she’d make me laugh with funny stories and make me cry with the sad ones. We marked every birthday and Christmas with more book purchases. If she was here still, she’d be in your shop daily and probably spend all our money there.’

‘I wish she could visit the shop,’ Rosa said. ‘I would have loved to meet her.’ And she would because Dolly sounded like someone she’d have got on with.

‘She would have been the perfect employee for you when she was younger,’ he said wistfully. ‘She could have advised anyone on whatever reading material they were looking for. Ah, my sweet girl.’ He sighed. Rubbed at his eyes. ‘Anyway, please take your time. I’ll make more tea when you’re done if you’d like?’

The hope in his voice made Rosa’s heart squeeze. It was clear that Christopher would like her company for longer. ‘That would be perfect, thank you.’

After he’d gone, she sent a quick text to Vinnie to let him know she’d be back later than anticipated, then she returned her attention to the shelves. There were many titles she knew would sell well and some that her online customers had already asked her to source, so she made notes about them on her phone. She could stock the books for Christopher, then sell them and pay him when each book sold. She couldn’t afford to pay him outright for the titles, but she could facilitate their sale. Usually, this would be done for a small commission, but in this case, she simply wanted to help this lovely man sort out his affairs because he clearly needed assistance. Rosa would be that person and it would be her first good deed in this lovely Cornish village. People needed to help people more, she often thought, and she would be happy to help Christopher, especially if he shared more stories about the fascinating Dolly. The way his face lit up when he talked about his wife made it a pleasure to listen to him and Rosa knew that speaking about his wife was helpful for him because without sharing memories of our loved ones, how could we keep them with us?

6

ROSA

Just over a week later, Rosa walked up to The Garden Café. Three weeks in, September was glorious in Cornwall. The trees around the village and in the surrounding fields blazed with tones of red, orange, and yellow. Summer was fading while autumn crept in with cool, crisp evenings and the rustle of leaves underfoot. The days still clung on to the last lingering warmth of summer, but the change in the air was unmistakable.

When she reached the gardens surrounding the café, she let herself in through the wooden gate and wandered around, admiring the apple and pear trees heavy with fruit and the blackberries, ripe and shiny, that grew in abundance on the bushes. Beneath the fruit trees, the grass was abundant with windfallen fruit the breeze had shaken from the branches or that had dropped under its own ripened weight. Some of the apples and pears had split, attracting insects to feast on their sweet fruit while others lay bruised but intact.

The flower beds were fading, but there were patches of colour where dahlias and chrysanthemums still bloomed. In the raised garden beds, pumpkins ripened — orange, pear-shaped, and yellow—while local farm pumpkins and squashes filled crates outside the café. Locally grown organic potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and onions were also for sale. Rosa noticed the small cardboard containers on a table ready for customers to fill with blackberries, apples, pears, and plums so they could take them home to enjoy the season’s harvest.

When she went inside the café, the delicious aromas of coffee and pumpkin spice, of pastry and melted cheese struck her. Her stomach grumbled, and she knew she’d be taking something back to the shop for lunch for herself and Vinnie.

Small gold vases filled with corn stalks, dried lavender, and autumn leaves decorated the tables, and candles and pinecones adorned the windowsills. Behind the counter, the specials menu boasted a range of autumnal treats, including spiced butternut squash soup, cheesy leek and potato pie, apple and Cornish cheddar pasties and honey roasted root vegetable salad with a wild garlic pesto. Her mouth watered, and she wished she could sample everything on the menu. Alongside the main dishes was the dessert menu, and while she waited to be served, she browsed it, her appetite growing. Should she order apple and rhubarb crumble with custard, pecan pie with rich, golden crusted clotted cream, or spicy gingerbread with thick cream cheese frosting?

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