Page 69 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘November the 4th. That will give us the whole run-up to Christmas to establish ourselves and then perhaps I’ll close and reopen in the New Year. Mind you, the speed Jack works at, I could probably have opened a couple of weeks earlier.’
‘Then you can use the time to finish that new book, can’t you?’ she suggested.
‘Good point –andtrack down and talk to the two people who rescued me when I was abandoned.’
‘I’m sure that talking to the eyewitnesses will make it seem more real than just reading articles about it,’ she suggested.
‘It seemed pretty real when I was standing up on the hill by the Oldstone – so bleak and deserted,’ I said, shivering at the recollection. ‘I’d really like to know what made my mother leave me somewhere like that, where she must have been sure I wouldn’t be found, so I think I’m going to put an appeal in the local paper, too, saying how much I’d love to hear from her.’
‘I suppose that might be the only way to find her – if she comes forward,’ Lola said.
‘I was undecided about it, but Bel pointed out what great publicity the whole story would make for the teashop, even if nothing else comes of it, and she’s right.’
‘What does Nile think?’ Lola asked innocently, and I looked at her suspiciously.
‘Oh, that trying to trace her is a bad idea and even if I find her she might not be keen to meet me, so I’ll get hurt. Because he had a bad experience of that kind himself, when he tried to trace his father, he’s sure I will, too. Not that I actuallycarewhat he thinks,’ I added pointedly.
‘But if your birth mother comes forward voluntarily after the newspaper article, it’ll mean that shedoeswant to meet you,’ she said. ‘And if she doesn’t then …’
‘Then either Nile is right, or she’s dead, or she’s moved away and hasn’t seen it,’ I finished.
‘So you might as well contact the newspaper,’ Lola concluded.
We had lunch in the pub where Nile had taken me, before walking around the village and then visiting the Brontë Parsonage Museum, which we both found so fascinating we were there for hours and more than ready for tea and scones at a café on the way back.
‘These scones are good, but mine will be better,’ I whispered.
‘So will your jam be if you stock mine, because this raspberry one is high sugar and low on fruit,’ Lola said critically, after liberally spreading some on half a scone and taking a bite.
‘Well, you’re the expert on that,’ I said, then asked her how the annexe to her parents’ house was coming along.
‘Almost finished, thank goodness. Dad’s done as much of the work himself as he could, to save money, which is why it’s taken so long. It’ll almost double the floor space of the original house, so we were very lucky to get planning permission.’
‘It’s easier if there used to be a building there anyway, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, I think that swung it.’ She sighed happily. ‘What bliss it will be to have my own space again.’
‘I’m already loving the fact my flat is my own and no one can take it away from me,’ I said.
‘Once I’ve moved into the annexe with the girls, Mum and Dad will be able to have a bit of peace occasionally and I can stop feeling guilty about all our clutter and toys spreading everywhere,’ she said, though I was sure her parents loved having them there, however sad the reason for her return.
‘Once we’ve moved in, you can come and stay, if you can get away. Though actually, I suppose you’ll be working flat out till you’re certain the teashop is a success – which I’m sure it will be.’
‘I’m only opening five days a week, Tuesday to Saturday, so once things have settled down I could have a very quick visit. Tilda acted as manager for the last owner, so I’m sure she could cope alone later on. I’d love to see your parents again, and my godchildren – they’re probably now at least as big as I am!’
‘Oh, not quite!’ she said, laughing.
It was lovely to be able to spend some time with Lola – my constant friend. We’d led such different lives, yet whenever we met again we just took up where we left off, as though we’d been parted for barely a heartbeat.
We set out for the Giddingses’ early that evening, because Lola wanted a glimpse of the Oldstone first.
Miraculously, I remembered the twists and turns that led to the parking place, but then, I was always good at those puzzles where you have to guide a little silver ball bearing through a maze. I’d have escaped the Minotaur even without a ball of string.
We got out of the car but didn’t walk up to the top of the rocky outcrop, just viewed it from below, while a surprisingly Siberian wind whistled round our ears.
‘It’s a godforsaken spot to abandon a baby in, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘I was wrapped in a sheepskin mat and shoved into a hole in that rocky outcrop.’
‘It must have been an act of desperation and panic,’ Lola said charitably. ‘And I expect your mother was terribly sorry for what she’d done later – andsohappy and relieved when you were found alive.’
