Page 68 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘He has some lovely things, especially that small paperweight with the millefiori flowers,’ Lola said, pressing her nose to the glass.
‘Itispretty, isn’t it?’ I agreed. ‘I love that tall, narrow blue and white jug with the pastoral scene on it. If I have any money left when I’ve finished the renovations, I might ask him how much it is, but the way things are going I expect to be totally skint.’
‘You’ll need to try to keep some in reserve to cover the running costs and staff wages till the tearoom takes off, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I’ve already set aside enough to keep us afloat for three months and if it isn’t paying its way by then, I don’t think it ever will, but I may have to use some of that money if anything major happens, like the boiler goes bust or something.’
‘Well, then, fingers crossed it doesn’t,’ Lola said optimistically.
‘I’ll get some money from my publishers once I’ve sent them the new book – an advance on delivery – but it won’t be a lot.If I ever finish it,’ I added darkly.
‘Of course you will! And won’t it be wonderful to see it on sale in bookshops, not just on the internet?’ she said encouragingly. ‘What’s it called?’
‘When Beauty Goes Bad. They might change the title, though, I suppose.’
We went back into the café and Lola stood in the middle of the empty room, half-closing her eyes. ‘I can visualize what the tearoom will look like when it’s finished – very restful and swish and grown-up. The tables covered with white linen cloths …’
‘Easy-care linen-look, with matching napkins,’ I amended. ‘I’ve seen samples and they’re just what I want, so I’m about to place an order. And I’ve found a local laundry that’ll collect and deliver daily.’
She closed her eyes again, like a medium summoning up the spirit of a tearoom: ‘The quiet clink of cutlery …’
‘Good-quality stainless steel that will go in the dishwasher.’
‘The tables set for tea with tiered china stands …’
‘I haven’t sourced the right ones yet, but I’m working on it. They might have to be plain white, rather than willow pattern, though.’
‘The soft gleam of crystal water glasses …’ she murmured.
‘Water glasses? Oh God, I knew I’d forgotten something!’ I exclaimed. ‘Andwater jugs. Carry on,’ I urged her. ‘Let’s see if I’ve missed anything else.’
‘Preserve dishes and little pots for clotted cream and butter for the scones.’
‘Hang on,’ I said, and fetched the printout of my latest list, which was now more like an endless Dead Sea Scroll, and made some additions.
‘Right, carry on,’ I urged her. ‘This is really useful.’
‘Tea- and coffeepots … cups and saucers, sugar bowls, milk jugs.’
‘Teapots I’ve got, large and small, though I could do with more, and I’m ordering glass cafetieres for the coffee,’ I said. ‘There’s already a water boiler behind the counter, so Tilda or Nell can fill them there.’
‘Larger glasses for soft drinks?’
‘Yes, those are on the list, and I must find a supplier of old-fashioned bottles of traditional ones made from natural ingredients, like dandelion and burdock, ginger beer and lemonade, plus I’ll make jugs of my own lemonade in the summer,’ I added.
‘People will probably ask for cola.’
‘They might, but they’re not going to get ithere,’ I said firmly. ‘I’ll set Nell or Tilda on to them if they get stroppy.’
‘Your staff do sound a bit scary!’ She looked around the room again. ‘What is going in the glass display case on the counter?’
‘Well, pots of your jams and preserves, for a start, but two large cakes of the day, too. One will always be some kind of fruitcake, but I’ll vary the other with old favourites like Battenburg, seed cake, Victoria sponge, coffee and walnut …’
‘Yum,’ she said appreciatively, then suggested, ‘Cake knives?’
‘I think I’ll buy some new stainless-steel dishwasher-proof ones.’
‘Then I’ve run out of ideas,’ she said. ‘You’ve thought it through very well and you’ll have time to fine-tune everything before you open, won’t you? I mean, exactly whenareyou going to open?’
