Time for Tea: Headley Village Hall Stores Tearoom

By mdavison

On a spin in the Surrey countryside during last week's hot sunny weather, I noticed that the Headley Tearoom had reopened after being shut for quite a while.

Feeling thirsty and quite hungry, I decided to pull off and avail myself of the tearoom's facilities.

I opened the door of the flint and brick building at the side of the Village Hall Stores and found that there had been a fair number of changes since my last visit a year or two ago.

Sofas covered with beige throws were begging to be used by weary walkers and cyclists. A few tables and chairs, too, were available for those who would rather sit up to eat.

Gone were the collections of thimbles and other ephemera that used to adorn the walls.

A young woman appeared at the kitchen door and asked if she could help me and I stared up at a notice pinned up which said that cakes such as banana loaf and lemon drizzle were available with pots of tea.

It certainly is a little refuge inside and appeared cosy, simplistic and inviting.

I wondered how many passers-by were aware it existed and felt privileged to be the only customer as I arrived.

I asked if sandwiches were available and a menu in a green leatherette cover was handed to me which listed several options: Plate salads, £3.95; ploughman's lunches, £4.50; large sandwiches, £2.50 and small sandwiches, £3.

There was a good choice of fillings including corned beef, chicken, ham, pork, tuna and smoked salmon.

Pots of tea were available for £1 (serving one) or £2 for two.

Danish pastries were listed (£1.25 each) and there was a range of cold and hot drinks.

The juices that caught my eye were pomegranate, and Ringdens Farm's apple presse.

I opted for a smoked salmon baguette and a pot of tea for one and asked if I could take a seat outside in the sunshine.

In the small patio area, picnic tables which could seat up to 12 were nicely shaded from the blazing June sunshine.

After settling at one of the tables from which there was a panoramic view of the distant hazy hills, woods and meadows, three ladies arrived in a Nissan Micra.

They had driven past the tea shop sign and had turned back up the road and pulled up in the teashop car park.

One of the elderly ladies opened the boot of the car to retrieve a handbag and the lid dropped down and caught her friend on the head, giving her a nasty knock on the skull.

She gasped, regained her posture, smiled and said: "Don't worry, I'll live."

Her friend was most apologetic and again enquired if she was all right.

Once more, her friend assured her: "Don't worry, I'll live."

The trio made their way to the village stores and then appeared in the teashop. They took seats inside on the sofas and were soon laughing loudly together. The boot lid incident had quickly been forgotten.

The lady owner of the teashop and stores appeared with my pot of tea which came in a chrome pot.

There was an extra pot of hot water and a white ceramic jug of milk.

I poured the tea into a green teacup and savoured every mouthful. Tea always seems to quench the thirst, even in hot weather.

Despite the searing heat, a gentle breeze stirred the trees and the ivy hugging trunks near the car park quivered every so often.

The peace was interrupted only by passing cars and vans every so often.

I tucked into the salmon baguette which was accompanied by a generous helping of mayonnaise and some sliced cucumber whose coolness was welcomed.

The proprietor told me she had taken over the stores last October but had only reopened the tearoom just over a month ago.

It was open seven days a week, from 10am to 4pm and her daughter helped with the running of both the shop and the tearoom.

I poured another cuppa and sat back to enjoy the lemon drizzle cake.

I really was on cloud nine and I think it must have been this that emboldened me in the next few moments.

A retired lady in a blue floral top passed by and remarked: "That looks nice!"

I replied, smiling: "Yes it is. Why don't you come and join me?"

She grinned and simply repeated "That looks nice!" and made her way to the car with her provisions.

Before leaving this wonderful little establishment, I popped into the shop and purchased some local cheeses which looked delicious.

The owner's daughter served me.

She was humming a song and told me she couldn't get it out of her head and it was annoying her.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Wishing Well," she said and confirmed it was the early 1970s' song by Free.

"We were going to do it in the band I'm in but we're not now. We rehearsed it for three weeks so it's constantly in my mind."

A discussion followed about the hits of Free but she could not recall the song, My Brother Jake, which I mentioned and called her mother to see if she knew it.

Mum hummed the tune and burst out laughing. "I'm older than her!"

Mark Davison