“How did you know? I normally go for a latte, but I wanted something stronger today.”
Alex just shrugs in his self-effacing manner. Though I know he likes to exercise his skill. Alex chooses a latte with an almond syrup for me, which sounds perfect, and we choose a couple of pastries each to go with our drinks. A couple of the tables nearthe counter are already occupied, so I lead the way over to the other side of the coffee shop where we’re on our own.
“Mmmm,” Charley says as he takes his first sip of coffee. “I could become a regular here. Never mind the coffee machine in the staffroom. I might have to send people on coffee runs.”
I laugh, I can well believe it. I know how much Charley loves his coffee. I take a swig of my own before attacking the Danish pastry I’ve chosen. Charley eats his almond croissant and moves on to the cinnamon swirl he picked. I let him get halfway through before I broach a subject I’ve wanted to ask him about for days.
“What do you think about Immy and Oliver’s news?”
“The baby? I think it’s fantastic. They’ll make great parents. They looked so pleased, didn’t they?” He smiles as he talks.
“Have you ever thought about children? Having them I mean.” I lean forward a little, as his answer could change a lot of things.
“I have,” he replies and I hold my breath. “But only for about two minutes. They’re not something I can ever see for me. All credit to those who want them, but I don’t think so. What about you?”
I let out the breath and sit back again, relief washing through me.
“Me neither. But I’m very glad Immy does.”
“Oh, for Monkswood?” Charley asks and I nod.
“There needs to be an heir for the title to pass on to. I’m more than glad Immy has taken on that role.”
“What would happen if she hadn’t?” Charley asks, a serious look on his face.
“Honestly, I don’t know. There’d probably be a second cousin somewhere who’d get it. But now I don’t even have to think about it.”
“Am I?—”
“No!” I grab his hand, not letting him finish whatever he was going to say. “Charley, you’ll always be number one for me.”
He gives me a small smile and I hope I can convince him it’s true. He’s fairly quiet while he finishes his breakfast, so I hope he’s not brooding about it. When we leave he seems like his usual self, and he says goodbye to Alex and Josh and promises he’ll be back soon. We drive the short distance to the garage and are soon walking into the cottage kitchen. It’s smaller than I remember from when I used to occasionally come here with Charley when we were kids. We’d spent most of our time in the Monkswood grounds and house and I think Charley was embarrassed to bring me here, especially at first. But I never minded. I especially liked sitting at this kitchen table and listening to Pete. I don’t have much of an interest in cars, except how they look. If I did, I might have respected my father’s Bentley a little more. But listening to Pete, I could tell he had a passion for them and it was always interesting.
Charley pokes his head round the door to the living room, and comes back into the kitchen to tell me Pete’s taking a nap and we’ll surprise him with a cup of tea. He puts the kettle on and instructs me where to find the tea bags and sugar while he sets out the mugs. He also puts some biscuits on a plate and finds a tray. Once we’ve made the tea, I hold open the doors while he carries the tray through. Pete is slumped in a large comfortable armchair, asleep with a book open across his chest. Charley places the tray down with a little bump, just enough sound to wake Pete up.
“Tea, Pete?” he says brightly.
“Err, um, I was just reading.” Pete sits up straighter, catching the book before it falls onto the floor. “I was just reading.”
“Of course you were.” Charley hands him a mug. “Napping is also good, as you work so hard during the week.”
“Hello, Pete.” I greet him and he nods his hello in return. I take my mug and a biscuit and sit on the sofa, and Charley joins me.
“Have you considered retiring yet?” Charley asks and Pete sighs.
“I’m not that old yet,” he grumbles, but he must be close to retirement age. I know his sister, Charley’s mum, was several years younger than him. “But what would I do with myself?”
“You must have a hobby, something you’ve always wanted to do. Gardening, art, I don’t know.”
“Engines are my hobby, lad. Why would I give up something I enjoy to spend the same amount of time doing something I don’t?” He has a point, and I know Charley understands that as well.
“I just think you work too hard,” he says.
“I have Madsen, he’s a good lad.”
“How about you take on another mechanic as well? Then you can take a step back and rest when you need to.” I can see Pete turning over Charley’s suggestion in his head, but I also know he can be stubborn.
“I’ll think about it,” he mumbles and concentrates on his tea. Charley grins at me. That’s practically a victory where Pete’s concerned. Charley tells Pete a bit about the centre, explaining that he won’t be able to visit next Sunday. I’m pleased with thecentre, but I’m very proud of Charley for how he’s taken on the hard task of getting it running. Hearing how enthusiastic he is about it gives me goosebumps at how dreams can come true, even if there are bumps along the way.
