From the author of The Vintage Teacup Club
The first rule of afternoon tea: never rush. Take time to savor it. Just like friendship...
The Seafront Tearoom is an insider secret in small-town Scarborough – a beach-front haven with the best tea and cakes in town – and journalist Charlie Harrison would love to put it on the map with a feature in her magazine. But single mom Kat Murray doesn’t want to see her favorite sanctuary overrun by tourists, and begs Charlie to seek out other options. She offers her help, as a “tea obsessive,” and so does French au pair Séraphine Moreau, whose upbringing makes her a connoisseur of everything sweet and indulgent.
Together the three women will scour the countryside for quaint hideaways and hidden gems, sharing along the way their secrets, disappointments, and dreams – and discovering that friendship, like tea, takes time to steep. But learning too that once you open your heart, the possibilities are endless.
Reading Guide Included
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
Vanessa Greene’s first novel was The Vintage Teacup Club. Vanessa lives in London with her husband and young son, and her perfect weekend would feature chocolate muffins, good friends, and, of course, the perfect cup of tea.
Acknowledgments
Praise for The Vintage Teacup Club
Also by Vanessa Greene
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Menu
PART ONE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
PART TWO
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
PART THREE
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Epilogue
Letter to the Reader
Letty’s Classic English Scones
Séraphine’s Magnificent Madeleines
Charlie’s Deliciously Indulgent Florentines
Kat’s Perfect Afternoon Tea
Readers Guide
The Seafront Tearoom, est. 1913
LETTY’S CLASSIC AFTERNOON TEA
Served on a tiered cake stand.
SAVORY:
A selection of finger sandwiches—cucumber, smoked salmon and egg mayonnaise
SWEET:
Raisin and apple scones warm from the oven, with clotted cream
Victoria sponge
Rose and pistachio cake
Profiteroles
Strawberries dipped in chocolate
A SELECTION OF LOOSE-LEAF TEAS:
English Breakfast, Assam, Darjeeling, Earl Grey, Jasmine, Spiced Orange
PART ONE
Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea.
—HENRY FIELDING
1
Thursday, August 14
Scarborough
Kat Murray and her three-year-old son, Leo, walked together along the beach in flip-flops, his small hand in hers. The rock shops and arcades of the South Bay were busy with holidaymakers and weekenders, making the most of the rare burst of warm sunshine on the British coast. As the two of them neared the harbor, the familiar smell of fresh-caught fish from the pier reminded Kat that they were almost home.
Leo dropped his mother’s hand and ran toward the shop underneath their flat, with its neon-pink sign and a doughnut model that was bigger than him. She ran after him, laughing. “I’m the winner!” he called out, touching the doughnut.
“Not again,” Kat said, sighing in defeat, then smiling at him. “One day. One day I’ll beat you.” She got her keys out of her bag.
She unlocked the front door and Leo climbed the hallway stairs ahead of her. She and Jake had moved into the flat four years before, when she was twenty-two, in love and carefree. A lot had changed while they’d been living there.
“What’s for tea today, Mummy?” Leo called over his shoulder.
Kat tried to recall what was left in the kitchen cupboards and fridge.
“Dinosaurs,” she replied. “On the menu tonight, sir, are Tyrannosaurus rexes and diplodocuses. I hope you’re not vegetarian.”
“No way,” Leo said joyfully. “I love eating T. rexes.”
Upstairs, Kat took a slice of rye bread and a sharp knife and cut carefully around the paper template she’d made—a dinosaur’s body shape. She cooked some long-stemmed broccoli and placed it around the dinosaur to make trees, then formed the earth with a homemade vegetable chili.
She’d decided to stay on in the flat after she and Jake broke up in order to keep a constant in Leo’s life. Anyway, there was something about the place—the sea view, the cheap rent, even the bent-clawed seagull that tapped with its beak at their window each day—that she thought she would miss.
She took the food through to Leo in the living room, and he smiled when he saw it.
“I like him,” he said, looking at the plate. “I’m going to bite his head off first.”
“You go for it,” Kat laughed. “Before he does it to you.”
Leo chuckled, picking up his fork.
“Can you bring my stegosaurus to watch?”
“Sure.” Kat went into Leo’s room and found the stuffed toy on top of his red chest of drawers. Above the chest, on the wall, was the Gruffalo mural Jake had painted. She paused for a moment to look at it. Things had been good, when they were good.
She put Leo’s stegosaurus down on the table, so that he could see it while he ate.
“Mummy, you know where I’d like to go soon?” he said, chewing on a piece of broccoli.
“Where’s that?”
“The Sealife Centre!” he pronounced, slamming his fork down in glee.
Kat nodded, smiling. He had been asking almost daily through the summer. But it wasn’t cheap, and each time she set money aside, a bill would come. Hopefully, tomorrow things would change—her friend Cally, receptionist at the South Cliff Hotel, had put her forward for a job there. Apparently the manager had all but confirmed that it was Kat’s if she wanted it. A few hours a week would mean enough money for the extra things Leo needed, plus the occasional treat, and with the hotel within walking distance of his nursery, she’d still be able to pick him up easily.
“Billy says it’s fun. There are jellyfish. And sharks.”
“I’m sure it is. We’ll go soon,” she said, kissing her son’s head. “I promise.”
Leo looked up at her. When she saw his dark brown eyes it was impossible not to think of Jake.
She’d get the money together.
The next day, Mr. Peterson, the hotel manager, ticked Kat’s name off on the list of interviewees. She turned her silver and turquoise ring around on her finger, waiting for him to say something.
Kat must have passed the South Cliff Hotel a hundred times, on days when she’d taken the funicular up from the beach—but today was the first time she’d been inside the grand white building. She’d arrived at the same time as a coachload of Italian tourists, and from the back room she could still hear them talking out in reception.
For the interview, she’d concealed the tattoo on her wrist—a bold circle, identical to Jake’s—underneath the long sleeves of a black blazer, and blow-dried her dark cropped hair so that it lay smooth. It was warm in the room though, and she longed to take the blazer off. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d normally wear.
“So, Kathryn. What is it that attracts you to the South Cliff?” Mr. Peterson asked.
She tried to remember what she’d practiced in front of the mirror the night before, and took a breath.
“I’m very interested in working in hospitality, and the South Cliff is internationally renowned. I’d be proud to be part of the team and I feel I could contribute a lot in terms of . . .”
Mr. Peterson looked down at her résumé, then took off his glasses and laid them down on the table. His expression seemed to soften.
“This is primarily a cleaning job, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Cally told me,” Kat said, feeling a little flat.
“Right . . .” Mr. Peterson nodded slowly. “Well, Cally is quite insistent you would be perfect.”
“I work hard,” she said. “Whatever I do, I work hard.”
“Yes,” the manager said, putting one hand on her résumé. “It certainly looks like it.”
The tension in Kat’s shoulders eased a little.
Mr. Peterson sat back in his chair. “I hope you’ll take this the right way. A degree in Hospitality and Culinary Arts, courses in tea-tasting, patisserie . . .”
“I know what you’re going to say, but I’m happy to do—”
“You’re overqualified.”
The words rang out and Kat tried to think of a reply to counter them.
“I should have looked through your details more carefully, but you know Cally. She can be very persuasive. Look, Kathryn—you’re young. You’re only, what . . .” He glanced back at her details. “. . . twenty-six? You’ve still got time to build a career for yourself. I don’t think I’d be doing the right thing employing you as a cleaner, not for either of us.”
“Is it that you think I’d leave? Because I wouldn’t. I need something steady.”
Mr. Peterson shook his head. “I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time.”
“OK,” Kat said numbly. She got to her feet. “Well, thanks for seeing me all the same,” she said. “Could you—”
“Of course. We’ll keep your résumé on file.”
Outside, Kat took off her jacket, the sea breeze cool against her skin. She crossed the road to the rose garden on the cliffside, sat down on a bench and texted Cally a quick message to update her. Putting it down in writing made it more real. She felt as if she’d let Leo down.
At times like these, she wondered if things would have been easier if she and Jake had stayed together, if they could somehow have worked things out. Now he was back home in Scotland, his work was no longer steady, and it was Leo who would have to go without.
She walked down through the park, until the view opened up to reveal the full expanse of the sea. In front of her a little farther down the hill was the place she was heading to: the Seafront Tearoom.
A couple of people were sitting at tables outside, but inside the café looked quiet. She pushed the stained-glass front door, a bell signaling her arrival. As she stepped inside, she breathed in the unmistakable aroma of freshly baked scones. It enveloped her, as comforting as a duvet on a chilly winter’s day. The interior of the Seafront was reassuringly familiar—the wooden tables neatly laid with pressed white tablecloths, the delicate china teacups lining the shelves, and the 1920s table lamps.
“Kat.” Letty, the owner, smiled and tucked a strand of her silver-gray bob back behind her ear. “Come in. I was hoping we might see you today.”
Kat closed the door behind her. “Hi there,” she said, leaning in to kiss her hello. Letty was in her usual pressed black slacks, and an apron with a dusting of flour on it. Her son, Euan, was sitting up at the bar, dressed in a suit, looking at something on his iPad.
“Thought I’d pop by and say hello.”
“Everything OK?” Letty asked, her pale blue eyes inquiring gently.
“Yes,” Kat said as lightheartedly as she could, sitting down at her usual chair by the window. “I had a job interview. It didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She put an arm around Kat sympathetically. “Well, it’s their loss.”
“It probably wasn’t right for me anyway.” Kat shrugged.
“That’s the spirit. There’ll be something better out there for you, I’m sure.”
“I could seriously do with the money, though.”
Letty’s brow furrowed. “Are you OK to cover the basics? I can always help you out, you know.”
“Don’t worry,” Kat said. “We’ll be fine. Leo can really eat, though . . . and he’s outgrowing his clothes so quickly.”
“Oh yes,” Letty said. “I remember how it was. Euan was the same,” she said, nodding over at her son, who was devouring one of her scones. “Thirty and he’s still over here eating my profits on his tea breaks.”
“I can hear you talking about me, you know,” he called over, a glint in his blue eyes.
Letty rolled her eyes indulgently. “Cheeky monkey!” She turned back to Kat. “Can you have a word with Jake?”
“He’s still getting the business set up in Scotland and it’s taking time.”
“Right. I suppose that’s not something that happens overnight. He’ll get there. Until then, what can I get you? An Earl Grey? I’ve got a Victoria sponge fresh out the oven. Cake’s on me today.”
Kat looked over at the counter. She could see the scones that were scenting the air so irresistibly, a Victoria sponge cake and a tray of brownies.
“Oh, go on then,” Kat said, a smile creeping back onto her face. “Thank you.”
Letty disappeared off into the kitchen and returned to the table a few minutes later with a pink-and-green-patterned teapot, a matching teacup and a slice of cake layered with jam and cream.
“Here you go,” she said, putting the things down.
Kat thanked her and took a bite of Victoria sponge cake. “Wow, this is delicious, Letty.”
Letty smiled. “Thank you. I consider that high praise—I know what your standards are like.”
Kat laughed.
Euan got to his feet, pulled his suit jacket back on and came over to them.
“How are you doing, Kat? It’s been a while.”
“Good, thanks.” It was comforting to see Euan. They’d grown up on the same street and while they’d moved in different social circles, with four years between them, he’d always been kind to her.
“And Leo?”
“Growing fast. I can barely catch up with him these days.” She smiled.
“You’ll have to bring him in next time.”
“I will do. He loves this place.”
“See you later, Mum.” Euan gave Letty a hug. “I need to head back to site.”
“Bye, love,” Letty said, putting her hand gently on his arm.
“Bye, Kat.” Euan gave Kat a nod good-bye and walked out, starting up a conversation on his mobile.
“What’s Euan working on at the moment?”
“The old cinema—they’re turning it into a restaurant. He’s done some of the designs for the project. It’s a shame they couldn’t keep it open—but this is better than it sitting empty.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll ask him to keep his ear to the ground for you,” Letty said. “It might be that some work comes up.”
“Thanks, that would be good.”
No use being sentimental. Her old job at the cinema ticket office hadn’t been perfect, even though she’d enjoyed working there, especially the matinees full of friendly pensioners and new mums. Kat sipped her tea slowly, gazing out of the window. Life moved on, and places changed. She’d find a way to move forward too.
An hour later, Kat was waiting by the door to Leo’s nursery, holding a jumper for him. She was glad she’d put it in her bag—the warm day had cooled a little and Leo had only been wearing a T-shirt when she’d dropped him off before her interview that morning.
She’d browsed on her phone at the tearooms and found one new job that might be suitable—as an admin assistant at an estate agents. It was outside town, so would mean a long journey there and back, but she could manage that if she had to.
A meter or so away two mothers were chatting—Amelia, a redhead with a pregnancy bump, and Emma, a dark-haired woman carrying a pink scooter. She knew the women from pickups and drop-offs, and had chatted to them occasionally. Today she kept her eye on the nursery door, waiting to see Leo come out.
“How about this Sunday? Are you and Sam free for lunch?” Amelia asked her friend. “Work has been crazy, so I could do with something to look forward to.”
“Sounds great,” Emma replied enthusiastically.
“Sam and I are taking Lily to soft play in the morning, so some adult company after that would be wonderful. Can’t count on my husband for that!”
Amelia laughed. “It’s a date, then. Do you like rhubarb crumble? We...
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