Summer at the Café at the End of the Pier

by Helen Rolfe

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

Searching for love this summer? You'll find it at The Café at the End of the Pier... A feelgood novella and the continuation of the Café at the End of the Pier series. Since moving to Salthaven-on-Sea to help her beloved grandparents run their charming little café at the end of the pier, Jo has blossomed. The café is at the heart of the community, and Jo is determined to serve up a little romance to her customers alongside her delicious cooking. As summer sizzles, her plans to bring the town's lonely hearts together on blind dates, each with a specially designed menu, are finally getting into full swing... Spring in Salthaven brought new friendships, lost loves, and a little flirtation... But as a fresh opportunity threatens to tempt Jo away from the town, will she find where she belongs - and her own love story - at The Café at the End of the Pier? A perfect feel-good summer novella, for fans of Debbie Johnson and Cathy Bramley ***** Readers love The Cafe at the End of the Pier series: 'A beautifully written feel-good story that will make you smile' 'Loved the characters and couldn't wait to turn the page' 'What an absolute delight!'

Release date: June 14, 2018

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 78

Sample

Chapter One

As spring rolled into summer and the days stretched out magnificently in front of her, Jo began to feel more settled in Salthaven-on-Sea. Gone was the frantic feeling she’d had when she first took over the café at the end of the pier and instead, in its place, was a sense of calm. At least that was how she felt when it was business as usual. The only time she wavered was when something unexpected happened – the oven breaking, the fridge leaking, a clogged drain or the toaster going caput. It was those little things that made Jo question whether her mum had been right to suggest that her return to Salthaven was out of some misguided sense of duty to her grandparents, rather than purely for herself.

Curtis Durham’s proposition at the end of the pier that night in May had also sent Jo into a whirl of confusion. When she’d first seen him waiting there for her, she’d wondered, was it he who’d put the postcard beneath the door to the café, suggesting she might find love? He was charismatic, handsome and had vision, all qualities Jo admired. And he seemed to be the type of man who would enjoy the thrill of the chase. But, more than wondering whether he was the person behind the postcard, she had his other offer to think about. Curtis Durham owned a very successful chain of cafés with outlets throughout the UK and he was on the verge of opening up another. Much of his success could be attributed to his remarkable ability to pick the best staff, but he hadn’t quite managed to do that for the new venue. He’d come into the café one day in May quite by chance, after an unsuccessful round of interviews for his new project, and he’d seen something in Jo. That night, at the end of the pier, he’d told her he could see her drive, her passion and her energy, and he was proposing she head up his new place in Cornwall.

Over the last couple of months Jo’s morale had been boosted not only by Molly and Arthur, but also by her two younger brothers, Timothy and Nicholas. Timothy had been to

visit last month and, as a business owner himself, had given Jo some much-needed support, spurring her on to keep giving it her all. Nicholas had been supportive too, albeit in a different way. He’d been sending postcards from various ski resorts around the world – he was currently in Falls Creek Resort, Australia – and he’d told Jo the café was a far better business to be in than his chosen profession as a ski instructor who travelled all over the world with no base to call home. Apparently, even the pistes and the bars (and, she suspected, the women) didn’t make up for his meagre income and the unreliability of finding work. Then again, Jo knew full well he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was his passion, and she hoped she’d found hers. Her brothers’ recent encouragement had at least gone some way to helping her believe she’d come here for the right reasons.

As Jo walked down the hill from her flat, accompanied by enthusiastic birdsong now that it was early July and summer was upon them, she pushed any worries to the furthest corner of her mind. She greeted Sally, who owned the bungalow next to Molly and Arthur’s. ‘Your roses and the cornflowers are looking beautiful this morning,’ she praised, raising her voice as a lawnmower kickstarted at one of the houses a bit further down. Jo had got used to seeing Sally in her garden every day, in all weathers. Sally took great pride in keeping it looking so wonderful, especially the rose bushes, which flourished in pure white, enchanting lavender and the deepest of reds. In fact, all the residents along this road leading down towards the pier kept their properties shipshape. Molly and Arthur were no exception, either. Their garden was mostly laid to lawn with a few dots of colour around. Molly talked about getting out in the garden again now she was retired, but Jo had chuckled to herself, because first she’d have to get out of the kitchen. The woman could win awards for her baking, in particular her chocolate brownies: soft and gooey on the inside, flaky on top when you dared to give them a try.

‘Good afternoon, Morris.’ Jo spotted Morris Eckles from number twenty-two walking up the hill with the newspaper tucked under one arm. ‘How’s the topiary going?’

He pulled a face. ‘Let’s just say it’s work in progress.’ And, with a wave, he went through his front gate.

Yesterday, Jo had watched Morris trying to shape wire netting over a shrub, although she’d been too polite to ask what he was attempting to make.

Jo crossed the road, and a fresh sea breeze skimmed her neck as she reached the pier, the boards beneath her feet creaking with a breathtaking familiarity as she made her way to work. The fish-and-chip shop had joined the summer season by setting out blue-and-white stripy deckchairs for their customers to lounge in with their parcels of delicious salt-and-vinegar-coated treats, and the smell hung on the air, enticing holidaymakers and locals. The bits-and-bobs shop Bits and Pieces was doing a roaring trade and Jo waved hello to Lena, who ran the place, as she stacked sunshine-coloured buckets and sky-blue spades out front along with the postcard rack that spun in the wind.

Jo dodged excited children and hand-in-hand couples as she trod the wooden boards of the pier towards the café. Since her failure to help Ben and Jess find love back in the spring, she was hoping that summer would be the luckier season. Long evenings, days spent on the beach, everyone jovial and willing to take a chance. All she had to do now was find the perfect man, the perfect woman, and put her plan into action. Her mum, not a romantic by any sense of the word, thought it a crazy thing to be doing when she was supposed to be running her own business. Apparently that was quite enough to focus on. But her grandparents had other ideas. They loved how Jo was giving the night of love at the café the same attention as the café itself, and they had every faith that she could bring some magic to two lucky, but unsuspecting, participants.

How could she ever think about leaving this town? She was back by the sea, in the place she’d always wanted to be, working in a business that had been in her family for years. No, Curtis Durham would have to make his proposition to someone else, because her only plan was to stay put.

‘Greetings!’ Arthur, white apron pinned around his waist, was chatting with one of the locals who sat outside the café trying to make the pages of his newspaper behave. ‘Paperweights,’ he added when Jo stopped beside them.

‘Excuse me?’ She smiled at Bruce, seated at the only aluminium table they’d put outside so far.

‘I need a paperweight, or rather Bruce does, for his newspaper.’ Arthur patted the man on the shoulder before following Jo inside.

Jo hung her bag in the cupboard and then in the storeroom stood on tiptoes and grabbed a jar of pebbles from the uppermost shelf. ‘Give him this for now.’

‘Ah, that’ll do.’ Satisfied, Arthur left her to it.

Jo tied her hair up in a ponytail, ready to take over for the Sunday afternoon shift. Molly and Arthur had made it a regular thing for t. . .