Summer of Promises

Chapter 6

Hey lovelys! Thank you guys so much for reading my story! Please dont be afraid to comment some suggestions and whatnot. Next chapter has the boys, or a boy.. Ya know.. lol (:

Peace, love, rubber gloves. (Maz got that stuck in my head...)

-Brooke (:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“My Dearest Abs.

Surprise. Now, I know you may be a little upset for me not telling you about Alex, but you cant use it against me.. Quite literally.. Too soon? Ok. That wasn’t funny. Now, let me tell you how we met..

When I first moved to England, I admit, I was lost. I didn’t have a clue to what I was doing, let alone where I was going. But that didn’t stop me. As an aspiring artist, I decided that maybe I could be a painter on the street. You know, one of those painters that tourist go to to get a painting of themselves? Anyway, I roamed the streets of London, trying to find the perfect spot to start. It was like an adventure. Everything was new, exciting. Walking the streets, I noticed a little cafe that was all run down.

When I entered the cafe, I noticed how bad it really was. The paint on the walls weren't the same color, dark and light splotches everywhere. The ceiling was patched with duct tape, where there have been leaks. The tables were tipped, some of the legs broken. The windows were covered in plastic, as they had been shattered. Everything was terrible.

I walked up to the counter and ordered a crumpet and some coffee. I sat down at one of the tables, and quietly munched while still examining the cafe. There was just something to this place I couldn't let go. Behind the mess, there was something there. A story.

“Excuse me..” I said, stopping an elderly lady. I quickly made my way over to her, and she sweatily smiles at me.

“How may I help you deary.” She had a calm tone to her voice, and a very strong accent.

I took a sip of my coffee, and said, “If you don't mind me asking, how old is this place exactly?”

“It is about 77 years old. Exactly 6 years older than me. My father built it. You see, he and my mother met in a cafe, and he decided that he wanted to be able to give people the same opportunity. It was sweet really...” Her eyes were wondering the place, and she had a glimmer in her eyes, which went away soon after. “But now, its run down. I am all alone, and have no one to help me maintain it.. Its a pity.” She shook her head and went through a door in the back.

“I'm sorry to bother you, but I have one more question.”

“Go on.” I heard her little feet pitter-patter on the floor as she made her way towards me.

“What would you say if I told you I could help?”

Her name was Charlotte. She was one of the nicest and real women I have ever met. We set up an agreement, in which I would help her repair the cafe, while she fed me and paid for me to stay in a little hotel across the street. It was one of the best experiences that I have ever had.

The day I had began, I met a young mad who went in to get a tea. He had the sweetest smile. Going out of his way, he went outside to talk to me, as I was painting. This started a new routine. Every morning he would come in, we would talk while I worked, and he would leave to go to work. After a month or two, we started going out on dates, and one thing led to another and we got married.

Charlotte always had a twinkle in her eye when she saw us. Knowing that her fathers purpose for the cafe actually worked, I think gave her hope.

Abygail, I need you to grab your guitar and go on an adventure. Walk the streets of London, and find a cafe that catches your eye. Maybe get something to drink. Oh, and Abs, don't forget to put that guitar to use. Love- Your lovely Aunty B.”

I grabbed a jacket and my guitar, heading out for an adventure in the busy streets of London.