The Chocolate Pot’s fifteenth birthday fell on a Monday which might not be the obvious evening for a night out but I wanted to celebrate on the exact date I’d opened for business. I was so glad I’d enlisted Nia and Clare to organise the event because I’d never have found the time myself as every spare minute had been devoted to the plans around our new home at Lighthouse Retreat and whatever else it became.
Sheila and I had done the catering but Nia and Clare had dealt with everything else from the invites to the décor. They’d ploughed through documents at the library and in the town’s museum and created a picture board showing the premises and Castle Street over the past century which had been fascinating to see and were a great discussion point for the guests. Even though Michael didn’t usually photograph people, he’d offered his services as official photographer for the evening.
Staff past and present, regular customers, friends, family and anyone else I could think of who’d been part of my journey sincearriving in Whitsborough Bay had been invited and I’d been touched by how many accepted. With so many guests expected, Carly had made two cakes – one in the shape of the original chocolate pot from my childhood which had inspired the café’s name and one in the shape of a lighthouse. I’d shed a few tears when she and Liam unveiled them before the guests started arriving.
‘Everyone’s got a drink now,’ Nia said. ‘Ready to make your speech?’
She clipped a microphone to the front of my dress and slipped the mic pack into my pocket.
‘Good evening, everyone,’ I said, and waited for the chatter to cease. ‘Thank you all for coming out on a Monday night to celebrate The Chocolate Pot’s fifteenth birthday. I look around this room and I see so many friends of the business. Some have been with us since the very start and others have joined us more recently.’
My eyes met Krystal’s and she raised her glass and smiled. After her visit during the Easter holidays, we’d kept in regular contact and those seeds of friendship we’d both felt had grown strongly. Jed and I had finally booked our weekend away and had chosen Suffolk, visiting Krystal and Benedict’s smallholding while we were there and returning full of ideas and inspiration for things we could do for teens in need.
‘Some of you have worked here in the past,’ I continued, ‘and some of you work here now and The Chocolate Pot wouldn’t be here celebrating fifteen years if it wasn’t for everyone in this room playing their part to support this dream I had of managing my own café one day. I’m so grateful to you for making that dream come true so my first toast is to all of you. Thank you.’
I watched everyone sipping on their drinks, butterflies swirling in my stomach ahead of the bigannouncement I was about to make. My team, my family and my closest friends knew already, but most of the guests would be hearing the news for the first time and I knew it would come as a shock.
‘I love The Chocolate Pot. It’s never just been a business to me – it’s been my home, my safe space, my sanctuary – and it has been a privilege to spend the last fifteen years making it a happy place for customers to pass some time. My hope is that it’ll continue to thrive for the next fifteen years and the fifteen after that but it’s time for someone else to take the lead on that. I’m stepping down as manager from the start of September and handing over the reins to the brilliant Maria Fernández-Bailes. Give everyone a wave, Maria.’
Maria stood on her tiptoes and waved to the guests.
‘Maria has been my Sunday manager for years and we’ve been co-managing The Chocolate Pot since the start of the year so she’s the perfect successor for me. We’re looking for an assistant manager to support her and my team already know that applications are welcome internally. We’ll also be looking for a junior chef to work alongside Sheila because I won’t just be stepping down as manager – I’ll also be hanging up my apron. It’s been an incredible fifteen years and, much as running the café still makes me so happy, the thing that truly makes my heart sing these days is helping others. I’m expanding Project Hercules – a mentoring and life coaching programme I set up for students – into other colleges, I’m going to be doing more with The Friendship Pod and continuing to work with The Hope Centre while exploring other opportunities to make a difference in this amazing community.
‘It’s not a complete goodbye from me as I’ll cover holidays and illness and I’ll still be doing the drinks for the traders’ Christmas lights switch-on, which I couldn’t imagine not doing. I think it’stime for me to stop talking now but can I finish with a second toast to The Chocolate Pot and the next fifteen years?’
I beamed round the guests as they repeated the toast and I was about to remove the microphone when Maria called out, ‘Not so fast, Tara!’
She approached the counter and I noticed she was already connected to a mic pack so this was evidently a planned interruption.
‘I’m Maria and, although I’m really excited about assuming overall management of The Chocolate Pot, I’m also a bit terrified. As anyone who has ever worked with Tara knows, she is incredible. She’s the fairest, kindest, most inspiring boss I’ve ever had and I’ve learned so much from her. We wish we could keep her here forever but we know she’s needed elsewhere and apparently kidnapping is illegal so we have to let her go.’
She paused as everyone laughed.
‘Seriously, though, we’re going to miss you so much, Tara, but we can’t wait to see what you do next although we’re glad it’s not a complete goodbye. We’ve got some gifts for you but can I ask everyone to raise their glasses again first? To Tara, who won an award for being outstanding because she is outstanding. To Tara!’
A mixture of emotions overwhelmed me as the toast was echoed and everyone smiled in my direction. I had a lump in my throat from such kind words but I felt as though I could burst with joy too. I remembered Maria turning up at the café eight years ago, pregnant and desperate for a job and, even though she came across as moody and standoffish, I recognised her cry for help and offered her a couple of shifts. I’d had no vacancies at the time but I’d felt compelled to help her and she’d turned out to be an exceptional manager who I knew I could trust with my beloved business. I was so proud of her. We’d spoken in depth aboutthe future of The Chocolate Pot and, while it was a dream opportunity for Maria to be the full-time sole manager, she and Marc hoped to expand their family next year and she didn’t want to leave me stuck by accepting the position then going on maternity leave. I was thrilled for them both and there was no way I wanted them to change or put their plans on hold for me. Our solution – which we weren’t making public – was for me to take some time out to focus on the plans for Lighthouse Retreat, giving Maria space to get established as the sole manager. By providing holiday cover down the line, I’d be able to adjust to any changes she’d made, making it easier to step back in as manager if and when she went on maternity leave.
Sheila presented me with a bouquet of flowers and Molly and Lexie handed over several gift bags and a huge card while everyone clapped and whooped. Opening the card, I felt overwhelmed by the number of signatures and the messages. It would take ages to read them all.
‘How about we put this lot on the stairs to your flat for you to look at properly later?’ Sheila suggested and I smiled gratefully as I handed over the keys. Sheila was another reason I couldn’t step away completely. Despite her eagerness to work the early mornings while her husband Eric was out fishing, I knew it would be temporary. Sheila wanted to retire in a few years’ time and, even if we found a great trainee chef who wanted to stick around, they couldn’t work seven days a week. I’d be needed back in the business when Sheila was ready to hang up her apron.
It was such a wonderful evening full of laughter and friendship. Clare and Nia had placed a large glass bowl on the counter beside some pens and a memo block. Guests were encouraged to write down anything about The Chocolate Pot that made them smile – from a special memory to a favourite food – and drop their note in the bowl. There were more pieces of paper in there each time I passed and I looked forward to reading all the entrieslater. Some guests shared their memories with me in person too and I was on the brink of tears several times as I heard about special occasions celebrated, final visits with a beloved friend or relative who was no longer with us, and even a marriage proposal. The Chocolate Pot meant the world to me but it clearly meant the world to many of my customers too and, in Maria’s capable hands, I knew it would continue to do so.
After spending some time circulating among the guests upstairs, I made my way back down to the ground floor and paused on the stairs to take it all in. Bethany was talking to Charlee, rubbing her hands over her swollen stomach. Her baby was due next week and I knew she was more than ready for its arrival. Charlee had recently announced that she and her husband Matt were expecting their first baby too, due in December. The news that another friend was expecting a baby delighted me but didn’t make me doubt the decision Jed and I had made not to try for a baby of our own. I was certain I was on the right path in a supporting role instead – being there for Erin and Lucy, for Aaron, Piper and Savannah, for Zoe, my students and anyone else who needed my guidance and encouragement.
My gaze shifted to Carly who was chatting to Anastasia and my heart melted as Colin walked past them, brushing his hand against Anastasia’s. They’d been such a perfect match and I was delighted with myself for spotting it and bringing them together through The Friendship Pod. It would be Colin’s birthday at the end of the month and Anastasia had been quizzing Jed and me about gift ideas for him. Little did she know that he was already planning the ultimate gift – her hand in marriage. He’d sought my advice about engagement rings and had sworn me to secrecy and, much as I hated secrets, this was one I didn’t mind keeping.
Emilia – one of the students from Whitsborough Bay TEC who I’d mentored through Project Hercules –wanted to set up her own cake decorating business. I’d put her in touch with Carly for some advice, which had resulted in Carly taking her on to cover Bethany’s maternity leave. Bethany managed the marketing of the business and stayed clear of the cakes so Carly and Emilia were going to split the responsibilities between them and, if things worked out, that meant a potential succession plan in place for Carly’s Cupcakes when Carly and Liam started a family. They now had the family home ready for it. The house they’d viewed near the Sea Rescue Sanctuary had turned out to be their dream home and they’d moved in at the end of June.
‘Are you okay?’ Mum asked, joining me on the stairs.
I smiled at her. ‘Just looking round everyone and thinking how lucky I am to have so many people who care about this place.’
‘It’s not just The Chocolate Pot,’ she said. ‘It’s you they care about. You heard what Maria said. Everyone in this room feels the same. There’s magic in you, Tara. Everyone can see it and I hope you can too.’
She drew me into a hug before continuing up the stairs, her words reminding me of the phrase Jed had shared with me: ‘To see a person – toreallysee them – is to notice all of their magic. To love a person – toreallylove them – is to remind them of their magic when they’ve forgotten it’s there.’
I could see it now and I’d be forever grateful to Jed, Carly, Maria, Mum and Dad for making that possible because seeing my own magic had helped me recognise it in others like Zoe. At that moment, I heard Zoe’s loud belly laugh and spotted her with Molly and Nathan. She’d had the occasional wobble over the past few months but her ongoing counselling sessions had given her the tools to cope with them rather than turning to self-harming.
