Vanilla

Chapter Twelve

Dedicated to killyourcupcakes, even though she still hasn't made fetch happen.

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“So,” Nora began, as I settled into the opposite seat with my hands around a hot cappuccino. “How’s it been? You have to tell me everything.”

            It seemed strange that, tucked away in a busy Starbucks during the first time alone we’d had since Summer’s birth, Nora was asking me this. She was, after all, the one who’d just had a baby; the past seven days had seen her being hurled headfirst into the deep end of motherhood. I was sure that ranked a little more exciting than what I had to talk about – which was, of course, my summer so far in England’s sleepiest seaside town.

            And yet we were both here, tucked into a two-seater by the window, while Nora smiled expectantly at me over her coffee.

            Conforming to the rest of London’s routine at this time of day, the place was bustling. Clattering mugs and room-wide chatter made up a larger part of the shop’s soundtrack than the radio blasting over the speakers, and almost every table was occupied; we’d had to dash the moment another couple vacated their spot. It was hectic, but it felt normal. Everyone here was just a face in the crowd I’d likely never see again.

            It stood a stark contrast to the lethargy of Walden-on-Sea.

            Summer was now a week old, and Nora almost recovered from the ordeal, though I was yet to make my return to Walden. Gram had driven back several days ago, offering to take me with her, but I’d declined. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I found myself wanting to stay in London just that little bit longer.

            It was still my home, and yet I couldn’t deny something felt slightly off. It was as if three weeks in a cottage on the south coast had already altered my perception; I’d become used to waking up to the sound of the ocean rather than traffic rattling the window frames. One morning I even found myself wondering if Walden was in for some kind of freak tsunami, before realising that I was in fact one hundred and fifty miles away, in a flat in the country’s busiest city.

            The camp bed in Lenny’s living room wasn’t exactly the most comfortable living arrangement, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave just yet. I may have been as sleep-deprived as they were, now accustomed to the sound of Summer’s crying at all hours of the night, but I didn’t like the thought of separating from Nora again so soon. For now, at least, I felt as though I had the sense of stability back in my life – even if it was preoccupied with a newborn baby and I was living out of an overnight bag.

            “Well,” I said slowly, as Nora leaned back in her chair. I could tell she was preparing herself for a long story, detailing the adventures that had filled the time we’d been apart. “There’s not really much to tell.”

            It seemed true, at least on the surface. It was only when I began to think about what really had happened over the last few weeks that I began to doubt myself. Walden-on-Sea could undoubtedly bag prizes for being the dullest town in Britain, but that was only the case if the judge hadn’t met Daniel, Erin and their friends.

            “Oh, come on,” she said, stirring her coffee. “You’ve been away for almost a month. There has to be something to tell me. What’s Gram’s place like?”

            The cottage’s image was surprisingly easy to conjure up in my mind; I could instantly picture the whitewashed walls, the vibrant paint of each room, the thatched roof I was always convinced was going to collapse at the first sight of rain but never did. “It’s nice,” I said truthfully, “and my room overlooks the sea.”