The Cafe

The Cafe

Every year, Zoe makes the same journey to a small seaside café on the North East coast. Every year, she orders a flat white, takes a seat by the window, and waits. It's been ten years since the night everything fell apart — ten years of silence, regret, and unanswered questions.

But this November morning feels different.

The Cafe is a quietly powerful story about the complicated love between a mother and daughter, the weight of words spoken in anger, and whether some broken things can ever be repaired. Settle in — this one will stay with you.

Transcript

The Cafe 

A short story by Jeff Price 

Zoe stood overlooking the bay. Below her she could see a few swimmers enjoying a freezing cold plunge into the North Sea. "They're mad," she thought. It's November on the North East coast and her face was tingling with the cold. She checked her phone. No message and it was ten already. 

As she entered the Wheelhouse Cafe, she was amazed how little it had changed over the last ten years. The kitsch sea shell ornaments on the shelves, the fishing nets hanging from the ceiling and the capstan on the counter and even though the staff had changed the menu hadn't. 

"A flat white and a piece of carrot cake please." 

"That'll be eight fifty," the waitress muttered. "Where are you sitting?" 

Zoe glanced around the room. The cafe was half full and in one corner the yummy mummies with their oversized pushchairs and prams were in holy conclave while their children mewled. There was a small table for two in a far corner. "Over there in the window." 

"OK, I'll bring it over." The entire conversation took place without the waitress even looking up or smiling. 

Zoe sat down and gazed out of the spume-stained window and wondered if this year it would be different, if she would turn up. She checked her phone again, still no message. It was ten fifteen. 

Even though it was ten years since Rebecca had walked out of the house, the sound of the door slamming still echoed in her ears. So much had changed since then but every year she left a message on her Facebook page saying she would be at the Wheelhouse on 27th November at ten and attached her email address. Every year she made the journey back to Cullercoats and every year she waited but Rebecca never came. Zoe wasn't even sure she read the messages. Once again she checked her phone but still no nothing. It was ten thirty. 

Zoe had been over that moment ten years ago a thousand times in her head. All the things she didn't say that day and all the hurtful things she did say. Theirs had always been a difficult relationship. Rebecca was quick to take offence and Zoe was quick to rise to the bait. Rebecca was sixteen and over the sixteen years of her life her mother had sacrificed a lot to make sure that Rebecca was cared for and loved but being a single mother meant they both had to make compromises and neither of them were very good at that. 

The Zoe’s career was beginning to take off. She had passed her bar exams and being the only woman in chambers meant a huge workload. She would often be out early in the morning and back late at night. Zoe had to trust her but teenagers are not to be trusted and that night she came back unexpectedly early and found Rebecca and her boyfriend Zach in bed together and the bedroom reeking of weed. 

The cafe door swung open and Zoe quickly checked out the latest customer. From the wet hair she assumed it was one of the swimmers, draped in a long padded robe. 

Zoe went back to her thoughts. The fight that followed was a mess of pent-up accusations, misdirected insults and Zoe regretted every word of it. When she got back from work the next day Rebecca was gone. The police weren't interested, Zach said he had no idea where she was and despite all her efforts Zoe couldn't find her. The only sighting of her was from an old friend who said she saw her in a nightclub in Newcastle. 

Zoe thought it's eleven now and she's not coming. 

Now the young mothers had left the cafe and it was the turn of the pensioners in their heavy-duty raincoats, scarves and gloves. Zoe ordered another coffee. Around her the hubbub of conversation continued but she wasn't listening, just looking around every time the door opened. 

A young man entered and looked around the cafe. Zoe vaguely recognised him but as it wasn't Rebecca she ignored him. She then realised he was looking at her and coming across to her table. 

"The seat's taken, I'm waiting for someone," Zoe said, trying to muster a smile. "I know," he replied. 

"Oh my God. Zach," she suddenly blurted out. 

Zoe quickly glanced back around the room but there was no Rebecca. 

"She's not coming, Mrs Hudson." His hair was a lot shorter and he was no longer in the dark baggy clothes of a fifteen-year-old but in a smart North Face jacket and jeans. "Sorry." 

Zoe was struggling to understand what was happening. She was pleased that Zach was there but disappointed Rebecca wasn't but for the first time in a long time she felt hope. 

Eventually she managed to compose herself and her thoughts. "Is she OK?" "She's good." 

"Then why are you here?" 

"She's seen your messages and she knows you have been coming here but she asked me to tell you she isn't coming and never will." 

Zoe could feel the tears welling up inside her and the old anger was beginning to rise like bile. 

"She's always known I come here?" There was anger in her voice. "Then why couldn't she come herself and tell me to my face? Doesn't she want to see her own mother?" 

"You drove her away, remember. The last ten years have not been easy for her. She has had to do a lot of healing." 

"It wasn't all my fault. I was a single parent doing my best." 

"She was sixteen." Zach was beginning to tire of Zoe's defensiveness. "You were the adult, not her. She needed your protection, not your disappointment." 

Zoe took a tissue from her handbag and wiped the tears from her face. She stretched her hand out and placed it on Zach's. 

"Sorry, that was uncalled for. Zach, there hasn't been a day since that fight that I haven't thought about her and haven't regretted everything I said. I was wrong, so wrong and I know that and I'm sorry. I would give anything to go back in time and start again but I can't." 

"I know that, Mrs Hudson." 

"OK, let's start again. Tell me about you two? Are you working, Zach? Is Rebecca happy?" 

"We are good. I work for the government and we have a little place that suits the three of us." 

The word "three" hit Zoe like a thunderbolt. 

"Three, You have a child?" Zoe's heart was pounding. 

"Yes, we have a gorgeous little boy. He's six months old, he's called Tom." Zach picked up his phone and turned it towards Zoe. 

"Oh my God, he's beautiful. And look at Rebecca—she's smiling. Really smiling. They both look so happy." The words trailed away as a mist as impenetrable as sea fog clouded her vision. The joy of seeing her daughter and her child in the photo collided like a car crash with the feeling of loss that consumed her. 

"I'm sorry, Mrs Hudson. Maybe I shouldn't have shown you that but I felt you had a right to know." 

Some of the other customers had noticed the intensity of the conversation and were looking at them and whispering to each other. 

Zach could feel the attention and he leaned across the table. 

"Why don't we go for a little walk?" 

Zoe nodded, turned and took her coat from the back of the chair and the two of them left the cafe. 

The sea was calm now and the sun had struggled from behind the shield of clouds. The dog walkers and joggers jostled for space on the promenade as the two walked in silence. 

Zoe took Zach's arm. "If Rebecca doesn't want to forgive me I understand. Could I have an address I could send letters to, birthday presents and maybe get some news from you?" 

"That's not my decision to make. Life for us is simple now, there is no drama, no fights. Becky is happy and content and she doesn't want to jeopardise that. I love our life together and every year I beg her to come and speak to you or even just write and share her news but she is adamant. But since Tom was born things feel different. I can't promise you anything but I will try." 

Zach handed Zoe his phone. "Put your number in there but you must promise me you will not ring me. I will be in touch when things change but you will have to be patient." 

"Just tell her I'm sorry. That I love her and miss her. I realise I messed up big time but I'm still her mother. Any news would be wonderful. Thank you." 

Zach stopped and pointed to the other side of the road. "That's my car, I'm going now. I'm glad we met up, Mrs Hudson. Goodbye." 

Zoe flung her arms around Zach and hugged him. 

"Goodbye, Zach. Please call me Zoe. Thank you for coming today. It must have been really hard for you." 

Zoe watched as the car disappeared along the sea front. Down in the water below the cold water swimmers shrieked and the dog walkers walked on, heads bowed. 

"Hope," Zoe thought. "There is still hope." 

 Seconds later she blurted out loud the words "Bloody hell, I'm a grannie," much to the consternation of a golden retriever and its confused owner.