Miranda Dickinson - When I Fall In Love

Five minutes later, they were sitting in cosy armchairs in a small café, surrounded by shelves of second-hand books. Elsie had often walked past BiblioCaff but had never before ventured inside. As she sipped her mocha, she noticed how at home Olly appeared here. The relaxed nature of the café, where fellow customers helped themselves to books from the shelves as they enjoyed coffee and cake, seemed to suit his easy-going appearance.

‘I love this place,’ he said, stirring chocolate dust into his cappuccino foam. ‘I found it about a year ago when my business moved nearby. Can’t beat decent coffee and books – the best combination in the world. So, you work in an ice cream café?’

Elsie nodded. ‘Sundae & Cher in Gardner Street. It’s my friend Cher’s business and I’m assistant manager. It’s a retro place, so a lot of fun to work there.’

‘I’ve been, actually. A mate of mine is a particular devotee of the Cream Tea ice cream – the one with the bits of real scone and strawberry jam in it?’

‘Ah, one of our bestsellers, that is.’

‘I’m not surprised. The way Cam goes on about it you’d think it was elixir from the gods. We go kitesurfing together at weekends and he always insists on an ice cream when we get back into town. That’s what I’ve been doing this morning, as a matter of fact. Hence the …’ He pulled the front of his hoodie to indicate his clothing. ‘I usually try to smarten myself up for work, of course.’

Elsie laughed. ‘Oh I don’t know, I think the “cool surfer dude” look for business is highly underrated.’

‘Why, thank you.’ Olly’s green eyes twinkled and to Elsie’s surprise she felt a slow blush claiming her cheeks.

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Can I interest you in a sample of our coffee and walnut cake?’ a waitress asked beside them, the suddenness of her arrival making them both jump a little.

Olly accepted but Elsie refused, her stomach suddenly tight. Once the waitress had moved to the next table, Olly took a sip of coffee and appeared to be selecting his words carefully.

‘It really is good to meet you. I mean that. Look, this might be a bit forward, so feel free to tell me to get lost, but I was just wondering if you might like to do coffee with me again sometime? I’m usually free on Saturday afternoons. You know, if you happen to be in town and at a loose end.’

Elsie considered his suggestion for a moment. The thought of dating again – now that it was a distinct possibility and not just a theoretical decision – was scary in the extreme. But then Olly wasn’t really asking her on a date, was he? He was interesting, witty and intelligent, possessed a similar sense of humour to hers and was undeniably good-looking: surely meeting him occasionally for coffee wouldn’t hurt? Elsie had to admit she was enjoying his company and the prospect of more of it was very appealing. This week’s note had insisted she was fearless: perhaps this was as good a time as any to take a risk …

‘Yes. I’d love to.’

‘You have a date !’

‘I do not . All I said was that I might meet him for coffee. It’s hardly an acceptance of marriage, is it?’

Daisy was unremitting in her delight, dancing around the chic kitchen of her expensive Hove apartment. ‘I’m so proud of you, Els! And of Dad, too – who knew he was such a matchmaker, eh?’

Elsie sighed as she swirled a jasmine teabag around in her mug by its string. ‘I shouldn’t have told you. I knew you’d react like this.’

Daisy came to a breathless halt and flopped onto a high stool by the glass breakfast bar. ‘But he’s gorgeous, right?’

Elsie shrugged. ‘He’s nice-looking I suppose.’

‘Good. That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it’s good. Now can we talk about the choir, please?’

Daisy groaned. ‘We can. But I need a favour first.’

‘Go on then, but only if you grovel.’

‘You are an evil little sister, Elsie Maynard. Fine, have it your way.’ She adopted a pleading expression, folding her perfectly manicured hands in front of her. ‘O great and noble sister of mine, I bring but one petition to your door. Grant me an audience in my time of need and do not turn me into the darkness where there will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

Elsie laughed. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be an actor than an interior designer? There’s still time for a career change.’

‘Behave, you.’ Daisy made a swipe at her sister. ‘Seriously, I need help after the meeting tomorrow evening.’

‘Anything for such hammy acting,’ Elsie giggled.

‘The thing is, I was wondering if you could drive me to Croydon.’

‘Croydon? That’s a two-hour round trip!’

Daisy gave an apologetic smile. ‘I know, and ordinarily I wouldn’t bother but I’m doing a pitch for a potentially massive client account on Friday and we need to style a concept room. It’s all a little last-minute but there’s a particular type of look we’re going for. So I need to visit …’ she lowered her voice, as if she was about to divulge some potentially dangerous information ‘… a certain Scandinavian home furnishing store.’

Highly amused by her sister’s admission, Elsie feigned shock. ‘Daisy! No! ’

‘I know.’

‘Whatever would Dad say if he knew you were patronising that place?’

Daisy visibly paled. ‘ Promise me you won’t tell him? I can hardly believe I’m heading there myself. The thing is, my car’s out of action all week – the re-spray the garage did when I hit that bollard last month wasn’t satisfactory, so I told them I expected it to be rectified. I think I scared them sufficiently to do a proper job this time. You know I wouldn’t ask unless it was really necessary. Please?’

‘No problem,’ Elsie replied, seeing the relief on her sister’s face. ‘But I hope you realise you’ll owe me. For a long time …’

Daisy hugged her. ‘I’ll find a way of repaying you, don’t worry.’

On Wednesday evening, when the last customer made a reluctant exit from the delights of Sundae & Cher, Elsie flicked the Open sign to Closed and headed to the kitchen where Cher was busy going through her order sheets for the next day.

‘Last one out?’ Cher asked, nibbling on a teddy-shaped wafer as she worked.

‘Finally. I think Mrs Annick has almost managed to demolish the tub of Sticky Toffee Pudding ice cream single-handedly this week. And she always looks so crestfallen when I tell her we’re closing. I think she’d quite like to live here if she could.’

Cher’s throaty laugh ricocheted around the lemon-yellow kitchen tiles. ‘Obviously I’m missing a trick there. I should make the place an ice cream B&B.’ She cast a critical eye over Elsie. ‘You OK, kid?’

Elsie rubbed her forehead and drew a chair up to the preparation table. ‘A bit tired, but otherwise I’m good.’

It was only a partial truth, but the rest of it was difficult to put into words. Ever the pragmatist, Elsie had put it down to all the new things that were happening in her life and the significant decisions she was making, all of which were bound to carry an emotional cost. Being able to look objectively at everything was a step forward in itself – eighteen months ago her view of the future had been markedly different. So, while she would admit to feeling more than a little apprehensive about meeting Daisy and Woody this evening to set the wheels of the choir project in motion, it was a good thing. ‘A little bit of fear can get you moving forward,’ her father always said, himself not immune to the unexpected twists and turns of life.