Page 8 of Daydreaming at the Boathouse Cafe

‘We’ll have to think of something else,’ said Ben, still frowning. ‘We need something to draw in the local community, I reckon.’

‘You will,’ Hannah told him.

As she began to make the puff pastry for the maple pecan plaits, she let her mind wander, trying to think up ideas that might bring in extra funds to the hotel that summer, but could think of nothing so carried on with her baking.

‘Hope so,’ muttered Ben before brightening up. ‘But you know what always helps generate a good idea? Another one of these.’

He was already heading out of the kitchen with a second macaron before Hannah had a chance to lob a dishcloth at him.

4

On the way back from the hospital later that afternoon, Alex stared out of the window at the countryside, only responding to Jake’s chatty conversation with the odd word or grunt of reply.

He knew Jake understood his muted responses. That was the thing about best friends. They knew all your faults and reactions, especially during the worst of times.

It had been a long wait of four hours at the hospital. Four hours since he had broken two small bones in his foot. Four hours of avoiding the texts and missed calls from his dad.

Alex had thought that he was finally going to get his gold medal that summer. That he would finally make his parents proud, but now that dream seemed impossible. He stared down at the large boot placed on his broken foot. The hospital had told him it would be six weeks before he could begin even light training. The more intense workouts would have to wait and that left him out of time for the Commonwealth Games. The dream of the gold medal was now out of the question.

He barely registered the journey until finally Maple Tree Lodge came into view as Jake drove into the car park. He instantly felt a sense of calm, despite his muddled upset thoughts.

Whenever he had finished a competition, this was where he came. It wasn’t his official home and yet it was always the first place he thought to come to. He had planned to come home right after the Commonwealth Games in July, perhaps even take a bit of time over August to spend time with the family and his friends. Now time was all he had, stretching out in front of him.

He huffed out a sigh. He had trained so hard this past year, perhaps harder than he had ever done before. He had sacrificed so much to be the fittest he had ever been. And now what? What came next in his life? He had no idea.

He thought back to when he had broken his first swimming record aged ten and that had lit the blue touchpaper for his dad’s ambitions. A junior European cup had followed. At his first World Cup, he had crashed his bicycle and despite dislocating his shoulder had got back to training the following day. He had thrown up sometimes on the finishing line, his body pushed over its limit time and time again. He had been exhausted, crying on the ground on other occasions, having pushed on through various ailments and pain from his muscles. He had trained harder and harder in every spare moment out of work. Training for him wasn’t fun, but it was a means to an end and that end had always been a gold medal. He had never given much thought as to what happened when that day arrived. And now it never would.

He glanced out of the windscreen to the glittering lake beyond the hotel car park. Well, perhaps swimming across Dragonfly Lake had been fun, as well as biking and running the forest trail around the lake. Here, training had never felt like hard work. He enjoyed being amongst nature, staying at Maple Tree Lodge with the family. Welcomed into the heart of the Jackson family with their generosity and kindness, they had always helped take him away to a better place mentally speaking. A calmer, happier place where he could just be Alex. Not a competitor, not racing towards a gold medal. At Maple Tree Lodge, he was just like Jake, one of Ben’s best friends, and that was all with no judgement or pressure. It was their adopted home, his and Jake’s. And they were truly grateful for it. Here he could relax before time inevitably dragged him back to the reality of the next competition. But what happened when there wasn’t going to be another one, perhaps ever?

Jake got out of the car and went around the bonnet to hold the passenger door open for him.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you inside to your adoring masses.’

The crutches were going to take a little getting used to, thought Alex as he manoeuvred them out of the car and slowly stood up. Thankfully the flat in London where he lived had a lift but there was the small matter that driving would also be impossible for a while. There were so many questions that needed to be answered about his future but right now he was just feeling tired and in pain.

As Alex and Jake slowly went across the car park towards the hotel, Ben came out of the front entrance and strode towards them. Alex braced himself. He loved his friend but he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to face any teasing, despite their long friendship.

But Ben merely stepped forward to give him a hug. Over his shoulder, Alex turned to look at Jake. If anyone was going to make a joke about his situation, it would be Jake. But there was no quip this time. No funny drawled sarcasm. Just support and strength from both of them as his friends gave him a gentle slap on the back.

In friendly silence, they headed inside across the large entrance hall and into the kitchen where he found all the family gathered to greet him.

Normally, the arrival of either of Ben’s best friends would cause a ripple of good cheer and greetings. But this time, the atmosphere in the kitchen was much more muted.

Faye rushed up to him first, murmuring reassuring words in his ear. She was soft and gentle and reminded him of his own mother.

Dotty was next and Alex had to smile as she had to reach up on tiptoes to give Alex a kiss on his cheek. Even then, he had to bend down to reach the diminutive grandmother. She gave his arm a squeeze before stepping back to let Walter come forward.

The grey-haired man stepped forward and gave him a firm nod.

‘Don’t let the buggers grind you down,’ said Walter.

Alex smiled at him in thanks.

Then there was Frankie, Faye’s oldest friend.

‘You know what I do when I’m sad?’ she said. ‘Pour myself a drink. So what’ll it be?’

There was a resounding ‘No!’ around the kitchen. Frankie’s cocktails were legendary and sometimes extremely strong. Thankfully she kept them a little milder but equally delicious when she was bartender in the snug each evening.