Beth walked back into the café, tearing the order off before she slipped the book back to her apron.  As she prepared the breakfast meals for the couple she thought about her encounter with the young artist who had just left.  His happy and carefree nature was infectious and she felt a smile beginning to crease her mouth.       

Elizabeth St Clair had been born to privilege, her father the owner of Saints Publishing, one of the oldest and largest publishing houses in the country.  The control of the company had been handed down from generation to generation for hundreds of years and it had always been run by a St Clair.  But five years ago that all changed, Saints Publishing lost their chairman and Beth lost her father and only parent.

She had never known her mother, also Elizabeth, who had died only days after Beth had arrived.  Her father, Daniel, stood by helplessly as the doctors tried to save her before she was taken from him and their new daughter.  At that moment his world ceased to have meaning, his heart and soul shattered by fate.  Then he heard Beth cry from the crib behind him and as he turned he saw his daughter through the haze of tears.  Then he knew there was still at least one reason to keep going.

He sat in the church at the funeral, holding his baby girl in his arms as he listened to the minister say all the right words but none of them were heard by Daniel.  After they closed the doors to the family mausoleum he placed his fedora on his head, took Beth from his mother and walked away. 

For the next six months the family spent a fortune on private detectives and investigators as they tried in vain to track them down.  Then one day just before Christmas, Daniel walked back through the front doors of his Kensington home with Beth in his arms.  Everyone was glad that he was back, looking happy and well but it was only his mother who could see that a light had gone out in his eyes.  The only time she could see a glimmer of it was when he was with Beth, the love shining through his pain.

Slowly he took back control of his life and his company, which had suffered from his disappearance, but he did not allow his work to take him away from Beth for long.  Every night at five-thirty when he was in London he would close the doors of his city office and go home to spend some time with her before she went to bed.  Afterwards he would go to his library to work as he lifted his company back to the success it had been.

The bell over the front door of the café sounded, interrupting Beth’s memories of her childhood with her father and she quickly dashed the tears from her eyes before she turned around. 

“Elizabeth, my dear, I am so sorry I’m late, I got stuck at the markets.” Angel’s smiling face shone out from amongst the box of fresh vegetables that she held.

“That’s alright; it’s been quiet so far.  I’ll be back to give you a hand with that as soon as I take this order out front,” Beth replied as she placed the two coffees on the tray with the toasted sandwiches and carried them out.

“So what’s on the menu for lunch?” she asked as she made her way back to the kitchen where Angel was emptying the contents of the boxes on to the bench.

“Ah, today I got some beautiful aubergines so I’ll make parmigana. Let’s see what else, some vegetables to go with the roasts and I got some fish from Colin, so I’ll show you how to make fish cakes.” 

“Sounds wonderful,” Beth answered as she put the dishes into the washer and started to sort out the vegetables.

“So it’s been quiet this morning.  Tell me, has my little artistic urchin been in with his furry friend.”

“Orlando, yes, he’s been, eaten and gone again.  He said to tell you thank you for his breakfast and the scraps for Sidi.”

“Better than throwing them in the rubbish, someone may as well enjoy them.”  Angel answered as she took her apron from the hook and tied it around her waist.  “Well, this isn’t going to make itself, is it?  Come on, my girl, let’s get on with it.”