Page 36 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
‘Fixing things up,’ said Sam, ‘and re-decorating.’
‘It’s going to be quite a struggle to keep it going,’ said Adela. ‘It’s pretty run down – Lexy did an amazing job keeping it open during the War but such a lot needs doing.’
‘With a bit of hard work, we’ll manage,’ Sam said, smiling at his wife. ‘This spring, I’m going to get the café allotment going again.’
‘It’s Sam’s idea.’ Adela smiled back. ‘It’s so overgrown and neglected since the end of the War but my green-fingered husband will bring it back to life. My mother grew a lot for the tearoom in the early days.’
‘You’ll be good at that, Sam,’ said MrsJackman. ‘I was proud to hear of you planting orchards for the natives before the War.’
She plied him with more cake and watched intently for signs of enjoyment.
Adela said, ‘The food’s delicious, MrsJackman. I think I should get your recipes for the café. Now our manager Lexy’s retired, I’m in charge of the menu.’
‘I could make some pies and cakes for you,’ she offered at once.
‘Goodness, I didn’t mean that,’ said Adela. ‘You have your own business to run.’
‘I’m winding down the shop – my eyesight’s not good enough for such close work these days – and I’ve always enjoyed cooking.’
‘That’s very kind of you but it would be quite a commitment,’ Adela cautioned.
‘I’m fit and healthy,’ said MrsJackman stoutly, ‘and I’d love to help you out.’
Adela looked at Sam. ‘Perhaps we could have a think about your kind offer and let you know?’
‘Of course, dear.’
Sam said, ‘It’s up to Adela – she’s in charge. But I can vouch for her being a good boss.’ He grinned and brushed his wife’s cheek with affection.
Adela saw MrsJackman holding back sudden tears.
‘I’m so happy that you’ve come back to live here,’ she said. ‘I know it must be very strange for you, Sam, when you’ve always lived in India. But I’m so grateful. I never thought I’d ever get the chance to see you again. I know I don’t deserve it.’
She fumbled for her handkerchief and dabbed at her brimming eyes. Adela went at once to put her arm about her.
‘Please don’t upset yourself. Sam now understands that you wanted to take him with you but that his father wouldn’t let you.’
‘I know,’ said MrsJackman, ‘but I will never get over the guilt.’ She looked at Sam in distress. ‘You were the most precious thing to me, yet I couldn’t stand being in India a minute longer – or with your father. We were never suited but it wasn’t really his fault either – it was like a fever that I couldn’t control. I had to get out. But I should have stayed for your sake. You poor boy! It breaks my heart to think of what you must have gone through. What you must have thought of your mother.’
She broke down sobbing. Adela held her. She looked at Sam and saw the struggle of emotions in his tortured expression. She knew he still bore anger towards his adoptive mother for what she did – for not telling him that she was going – but she also knew what a compassionate and loving man he was. Sam was incapable of holding a grudge forever. Adela felt emotional to think of all those years of misunderstanding between mother and son. It made her all the more determined not to waste time in getting down to searching for her own son.
Sam stood up and came to his mother’s side. Crouching in front of her, he gently took the handkerchief from her and wiped her face of tears.
‘I did miss you,’ he said, his voice hoarse, ‘but I had a happy life in India on the boat with Dad. Don’t think of me as a miserable boy who didn’t enjoy life – ’cause that wasn’t me.’
He took her hands in his. ‘But the bravest thing you ever did was to send Adela the shawl and bracelet that allowed me to find out about my blood parents and my sister. My wonderful big sister, Sophie, who I love very much. If you knew her, you would love her too. I will always be grateful that you did that.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘Thank you, Mam.’
MrsJackman gave a tearful cry. ‘You haven’t called me Mam since you were a lad!’ She threw her arms around him and kissed the top of his head.
Adela blinked away her own tears. Then Sam buried his head in his mother’s lap and let out a sob.
‘Oh, my bonny lad,’ MrsJackman said tenderly, stroking his head.
The three of them held on to each other as Sam wept.
