Jim.

It is impossible not to become attached to some people.
They start off as customers, ordering a couple of coffees and passing the time of day.
Then one day they tell you what their favourite cake is, or say what they had last time or say something about having something different, or sitting somewhere different and you realise that, actually, they come quite often. They are, in a word, regulars.
Next time when they arrive they might greet me by name.
They always boost my spirits, always make me feel I'm doing something right, always reassure me that there are some truly lovely people in the world who ask for very little and give a great deal.
Over the last eight years (yes that's how long it's been) I have had the great joy of sharing a little bit of life with quite a few "regulars".
If I am allowed a favourite then it would have to be Jim.
Jim "americano with hot milk and a slice of lemon drizzle" Grant who celebrated his 90th birthday a couple of years ago at the tearooms with a family tea.
Jim, father of three, always accompanied by one or more of his kids, two of whom retired last year. Jim who, when we closed last season for the winter, brought us a box of chocolates to say thank you and then emailed me in late November saying he was looking out of his window on a grey day dreaming of Spring and his next visit.
Jim, who died on Boxing Day, aged 92.
A few years ago he walked around the garden with one of his daughters. When they reached the raised area above the former tennis court he stopped and looked back at the tearoom building.
"You can sprinkle me here, if you like," he told her, "I'd be happy here."
Today Martin, Lesley, Cathy and Bob brought Jim's ashes and sprinkled him liberally, laughing as the wind made him difficult to control, scattered him at the base of trees and among the fallen leaves, on their shoes and trousers. They then sat in the garden, drinking americanos with hot milk and eating lemon drizzle. They split the fifth piece (Jim's piece) between the four of them.
They didn't stop smiling.

Jim.
We miss you. So very much.