Amber shrugged. “Who knows? Anyway, I’m not here to talk about him.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I wanted to run something by you. You know the money you’ve kept in trust for me. I wondered if you’d release it.”
“Why? What for? You’re not thinking of going away, doing something silly, are you, because of this David mess?”
“It’s not a ‘David mess’, and no, I’m actually thinking of doing something quite serious. I want to buy the café.”
“Yourcafé.”
“Yes,mycafé. In a way itisa response to David. After what happened five years ago, I think I’ve been running scared. Making all my decisions based on fear.”
“Oh, darling,” Jim said, putting his arm around her. “We’ve all tried to protect you, to keep you safe, that’s all.”
“I know, and I love you for it. But in the long run, it’s not helping me. I want to do something for myself now, and it took David to make me see that. For all that he wanted to use me, he ended up making me believe in myself, making me think I could take control of my life. And that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to buy the café, use it for exhibitions of my own, and other things I’m interested in. It’s the right venue for it. There’s enough touristy places already in Akaroa, and my work isn’t right for upmarket Christchurch venues. No, the café is perfect. I know the owners have been considering selling for some time and they’d be keen for me to take over.”
“Goodness. I can see that it would make sense. But running the café, Amber, the business side would be quite…” He trailed off, obviously unsure how to express the fact that he had no faith in Amber’s business acumen.
Amber smiled. “I know. I’d be hopeless at the business side, that’s why I thought of Maddy. She’d be the perfect partner.”
“Madeleine!” Jim nodded. “That could work. Is she interested?”
“I haven’t spoken to her yet. I wanted to check with you first to see if you think it’s a good idea and if the money is available.”
He looked at her with a smile. “I do. I think it’s a great idea. Perfect, in fact.” He grunted a laugh. “All my girls following in their mum’s footsteps—chefs.”
It was Amber’s turn to laugh. “Not me, Pop, you know that. I’ll leave the cooking to someone who can do it well. I’ll be there to hang out with people, make it into my kind of place.”
“And that, darling, is exactly what Akaroa needs. Your kind of place. It’s perfect.”
And, as Amber left to track down Maddy, she thought it might not be perfect—because how could it be when she felt as if there were a hole in her heart—but it would be the next best thing. A project and a future which she could make her own, depending on no one, being controlled by no one. Hers alone.
It was rainingby the time David reached Amber’s house. He parked the car in the carpark down the road, there being no parks close to Amber’s cottage. Despite the increasing heaviness of the rain, David walked with his head up, his gaze fixed on Amber’s cottage, trying to discern signs of life. Unlike the other cottages in the row, Amber’s, snug in the middle of the row, was dark.
He stood on the pavement beside which the sea had crept in over the sands and now lapped meekly at the stone wall alongside which the coast road ran. Behind Amber’s cottage, the hill rose steeply to a row of grander houses above. Wasn’t she in? Maybe she’d gone to bed already? But a quick check at his watch revealed, despite the gray skies and strengthening rain and misty atmosphere, it wasn’t yet seven.
All the lights were on in all the other cottages. It made the absence of light even more stark. He could stay there all night, he suddenly realized, getting more soaked by the minute in his thin shirt—it hadn’t been raining when he’d left Christchurch—but nothing would change. He was scared—scared of what he’d find in Amber’s house. He’d avoided emotion for so long that it seemed it scared him more than anything. The thought made him angry and spurred him on.
He clicked the latch on the small cross-barred gate and walked up the short path. The drooping flowers and lavender brushed past his legs, releasing their perfumes, and the wind chimes which hung from the gnarled branches of the pohutukawa tree tinkled in the wind. He glanced through the window and was relieved to see the flicker of a candle. Of course, Amber wouldn’t sit in the flooded artificial light of an electric bulb. She was a candle kind of girl. He liked that about her.
He was about to knock on the door when it opened. Her hair was rimmed with the soft golden light of the candle, which flickered in the hallway behind her. She looked like an angel. Then she stepped closer to him.
“What do you want?”
Make that an avenging angel.
“I’d like to apologize.”
She gripped the door in a most un-Amber like way. “Apologize? And you think that would make everything all right? You think I’d accept it, jump into your arms and allow you to carry me to bed? Is that right?”
He hadn’t, but her description led his mind astray and he was speechless for a few moments. Moments in which she stepped closer and prodded his chest with her finger, her eyes glittering as amber as her name. From the angel, she’d just transformed to devil. Somehow he liked that just as much.
“No. Not at all. Well, only if that’s okay.” He winced as soon as he’d spoken the words. It was true. If she’d make it easy for him then he was more than happy to grab the easy option.
She lowered her head and narrowed her eyes. He could have sworn sparks emerged from her eyes. But it must only have been the way the candles flared in the draft from the door, reflecting light in her eyes and casting doubt in his soul.
“Please, Amber. Could you spare me a few moments? Let me speak and then I’ll leave. I promise I won’t darken your door again if you don’t want me to. But I couldn’t leave it as it was. Okay?” He tried to give her his best smile, but he suspected his lips hadn’t moved if her reaction was anything to go by. “Please, can I come in?”
