Phoebe hurried down the platform of Snug End’s little station. The train had been delayed leaving London and she was nearly fifteen minutes late. Luckily the village high street wasn’t very large. Just a few shops, a pub, and her destination: Mrs. Graham’s Tea Room.
A bell tinkled as she entered the establishment. At a quarter after noon, the cheerfully decorated tearoom was filled with customers occupying tables, peering at the large pastry case, or simply milling about chatting with one another. The friendly atmosphere instantly set Phoebe at ease as she scanned the room. It appeared that this Mrs. Graham had a penchant for lace doilies given that they covered nearly every available surface.
“Miss Atkinson! Over here!”
Phoebe turned to the speaker and broke into a broad smile as Alice Clarke waved from her seat at a table in the back corner. Phoebe weaved through the tables and embraced her former student.
“Oh, Alice. It is wonderful to see you.”
“You too, miss. I’m so glad this worked out.”
Alice’s first letter had come only a day after the bazaar, and ithad been a much-needed balm for Phoebe’s crushed soul. They had written back and forth over the next few weeks until they were able to find a time to meet.
Phoebe pulled back and was pleased to see that the girl’s cheeks were full and rosy. “You look well. And happy.”
“I am, miss,” she said. “It’s been nice to be out of London. Get a bit of fresh air.”
“I’m sure.” Phoebe managed to smile even while her heart ached at the thought of Alice staying in this little village indefinitely.
Once they took their seats, a girl about Alice’s age came over to take her order.
“Millie, this is the lady I was talking about,” Alice said excitedly. “My old teacher.”
The girl’s eyes rounded. “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you! I wish we had a school like that around here.”
Phoebe’s cheeks flushed. “You’re very kind.”
The smell of something freshly baked wafted through the air and her stomach rumbled.
“Everythingis delicious,” Alice said. “But I’m partial to the lemon scones.” She gestured to her empty plate.
“Then I’ll have that,” Phoebe said to Millie. “And a pot of your strongest black tea.”
“Right away,” the girl said and scurried off.
“You come here often?” Phoebe asked once they were alone.
Alice nodded. “Mrs. Druthers, the lady I’ve been staying with, takes in sewing and I help. Nothing too fancy, mind, but it gives me a bit of pocket money.”
“That’s good. It’s important to have a skill like that. I wish I did.”
“You teach.”
“I used to teach,” Phoebe corrected.
Alice’s eyes softened. “I’m so sorry about the school. But surely Mrs. Richardson can find a new location.”
Phoebe shrugged. “It’s taking longer than expected. And I’m worried that the longer it takes, the more students we’ll lose. So for now I am without employment.”
And it had been the worst two months of her life—though she couldn’t blame it all on the school’s sudden closure.
Millie returned with her tea, scone, and a fresh pot for Alice. Phoebe fixed her tea while Alice peppered her with questions about everything she had missed at school while she was away.
“The girls must have taken the news about the school very hard,” she said when they had exhausted Phoebe’s gossip stores.
“Yes,” Phoebe said as she absently stirred her tea. “It’s funny, the girls who seemed the least interested in my lessons were the most upset.”
“Perhaps they only realized what they had once it was lost.”
