Page 35 of The Custard Tart Cafe by the Sea
“They’re fake. Every last one of them. It’s pathetic, I know. Look, I was never going to do anything with the petition. Not really. I just wanted to scare you into closing the café. Obviously I tried to make the document look as convincing as possible. I researched how these things are generally done… and then I,” he frowns and closes his eyes, recoiling at how awful this is. “I kind of hoped for the best. But that was before I got to know you, before I developed fee—”
“Tiago, do you have any idea how totally unethical that is? And highly probablyillegal! Why didn’t you tell me last night before we… Why didn’t you tell me yesterday afternoon?”
“I was desperate, impulsive, not thinking straight.” He shrugs as if that makes it okay and is perfectly understandable.
“I’ll say!Flipping heck.Why go to such lengths? You really despised me… Now that I’ve hopped into bed with you and partaken in all of the things we did last night, I’m guessing not quite as much, huh?”
“It’s not like that. It’s complex. I never wanted to hurt you. I can’t help my history.”
“Yes, I do believe we covered that bit yesterday.” I sigh. “I have every sympathy for you having lost your parents at such a young age, believe me, I do… but that doesn’t mean you can go around—”
“I just… I know it sounds crazy but I panicked for my grandparents. For the memory of my real grandfather, who did so much for me, for my grandmother, who has been my absolute rock. My sister, who you haven’t yet met, has already expressed a huge interest in taking over the bakery with her husband once Grannie is finally ready to hang up her apron. She has a daughter too. That’s who the Paddington bear was for. And you met her son, Edu, yesterday. He’s so dedicated already at such a young age. It would break my heart for this let’s-reinvent-the custard-tart craze to somehow backflip on itself, wending its way over to Portugal and taking the country by storm, so that the authentic places could no longer survive. My family would be destitute.”
I want to laugh at the ridiculousness of such an idea. It would never happen. And, oh, so it’s perfectly okay to attempt to leave me penniless instead.
“I love my grandparents too,” I cut in, “but I’m sure I could refrain from issuing a petition to close down an innocent café in a humble seaside town in a whole other country. Do you have any idea of all of the hard work that’s gone into it? Not to mention the fact I employ actual human beings with financial and emotional needs. What about them? You weren’t just trying to put me out of business, but all of us. Then there’s my customers. My beloved Frank, who donates tarts every week to deserving people– some of them homeless. PeopleneedThe Custard Tart Café. It’s become a haven for so many souls in such a short space of time. From the school mums to the teens, the pier workers to the tourists, the bookworms to the elderly, and everyone in between. You truly have no idea how much joy my quirky café brings to Weston-super-Mare.”
Tiago’s eyes turn glassy.
“You’re so artistic, though,” he gesticulates. “You could easily turn your hand to something else. It’s not like you have to do what you’re doing. Why not branch out? You clearly have culinary training. Besides, this fad might fizzle out. It’s best for all concerned that you don’t count on the popularity of custard tarts lasting forever; include them in your plans– why not?– but turn your place into a proper bakery that does a bit of everything. It’s safer that way.”
I’ve heard enough.
“Okay, Tiago,” I stand up, unable to be here with him for a moment longer, pretending we are sharing a convivial breakfast. “Let’s say I did acquiesce to your wishes: What are you going to do about the other reincarnations of thepastel de natathat have popped up in cities all over the world? Try and shut them all down? I can assure you that this is one game of whack-a-mole you will never win.”
He has no answer to that. Which would be because there isn’t one.
“I think I’ve heard enough,” I say. “This was a mistake,” I gesture at our surroundings, trying not to blush when I think of the way he so expertly tended to my every desire last night. “I’d appreciate it if we break all contact and go our separate ways. It was nice meeting Elsa. I enjoyed the behind the scenes tour and her hospitality. I enjoyed the tarts. But I should never have let myself be so duped by you. Nothing has changed, whether that petition has legs to stand on or not. You’re hell-bent on trying to ruin my café.”
“Willow, no. You have to believe me…last night changed everything. Absolutely everything. I just wanted to be honest with you this morning, since you asked if I was going to drop the petition. I like you. I like you a lot. But if there’s any chance of a relationship between us, I need to start it on a clean slate.”
What planet is this guy living on? “Relationship? You’ve got to be joking! One, I can’t trust you… and two, you are still trying to get me to close or, at the very least, change my entire business. I am attracted to you, I admit it. I’m not the sort of person to jump into bed with a guy so soon. In fact, I don’t mind telling you that last night was the very first time it’s happened. But what you’ve just said changes everything for me. Yesterday afternoon, and last night, it felt like we were at the start of something. You opened up to me and explained your behaviour. I thought I got you. I thought could see where you were coming from. I thought we had turned a corner. There was logic behind your earlier actions and you seemed genuinely sorry for all the damage that had been done. But evidently I was being naive, seeing only what I wanted to see. There’s no future for us. As amazing as last night was, it is what it was: a one night stand.”
“Don’t call it that, Willow! I can assure you it meant more than that to me. So much more. Can’t we start afresh? I would love to take you out when we are both back in the UK. All I need is a little time… to stop feeling like a traitor to my heritage. It won’t take long. I know it won’t. The depth of my feelings for you already tells me that.”
“You had plenty of time to come clean yesterday,” I reply curtly. “I’m not putting my heart on the line, waiting around for you to decide that you want to be supportive of my career choices. That’s not how a relationship works. Goodbye, Tiago. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”
This is too screwed up for words.
I grab my bag and walk out of the apartment, my eyes rapidly filling with tears. I probably look better than I did last night– I showered with Tiago’s gel. Okay, not before he joined me for a quickie, soaping me up, and inevitably setting in motion round number four. But I wouldn’t care if I looked like a zombie. All that matters is getting myself to the nearest taxi rank and back to the cocoon of the quinta, whose fortress I shall not leave until we fly back to Bristol.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Why didn’t youtell us sooner? We’re supposed to be your best friends!”
“Well, you’re all caught up now on the disaster that is my life,” I protest, having just info-dumped the entire events of last night and this morning as we lie by the pool.
“Radhika’s right.” Well, it makes a refreshing change for Kelly to say that, at least. Her hands are planted on her hips and her voice is ice-cold, her critique piercing me so much that I fold my arms for protection. “How could you keep such a dark secret from us all this time? Jeez. You think you know someone.” Kelly shakes her head in disappointment.
“The nasty little shit who delivered you that humdinger of a petition was sitting behind you,sitting behind usfor the entire flight… and you didn’t think it important enough to let Kelly and me know? Oh, Willow. I despair of you!” Radhika adds her own thoughts with a shake of the head. She turns her back on me and picks up her sunscreen, applying it to her arms and shoulders.
My plan to sneak to my room, when I spotted both girls lazing around the pool enjoying the morning sunshine, was foiled the moment the taxi’s tyres crunch on the gravel. No doubt Radhika thought I might be one of her love interests. If not for her sharp ears, I might have pulled off my furtive entree and avoided this Portuguese Inquisition until lunchtime.
“Because I knew exactly how you’d react,” I finally reply, raising my voice several octaves and waving my hands around to make my point; increasing the curiosity of the other sun worshippers, the early bird family who are lazing on the opposite side of the pool. “Like this… and thirty-seven thousand feet in the air is not the best place for an argument!”
“That’s as maybe, but you could have told us all about Tiago the moment we landed… and now you’ve gone and slept with him!”
Kelly is as incredulous as I feel, now the stark reality of the situation is beginning to ring out loud and clear. I am as bad as Tiago, for not coming clean in due time. She pulls repeatedly at the ribbon on her hat, a clear signal that she is stressed– and it isn’t even her mess to be stressed about.
