'The Little Teapots I've Lost and Found' by Trisha Ashley

As the paperback publication day of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found draws ever nearer, my mind has naturally turned to the subject of afternoon tea – or afternoon coffee, in my case. For ironically, although I have an extensive collection of old teapots, I’ve never drunk a cup of tea in my life. 

This dog teapot dates back to the 1920s or 1930s, but the rabbit one is quite modern and was given to me as a gift.

This strangely beautiful white teapot came from a jumble sale over thirty years ago.

A very jolly Canadian toucan teapot from a car boot sale:

This Japanese elephant, minus its lid, used to belong to my maternal  grandmother.

I started the teapot collection in my early twenties, when I was given an old teapot in the shape of a man wearing a green jacket and flat cap, his arms forming the spout and handle. I loved it, but it turned out to be worth enough money to pay my mortgage for a month at a very difficult time, and since I loved having a roof over my head even more than the teapot, it sadly had to be sold.

But there are one or two coffee pots in my collection too, notably this bright yellow one I bought, with matching mugs, brand new in the seventies. 

I loved the colour, the clever design and the lovely shape and I fully intended using them - but they proved to be totally impractical. The handles were hollow, which made both pot and mugs hard to clean, and even if you did manage to get your fingers through the handles of the mugs, the hot coffee burned them… That barrel shape was really difficult to drink out of, too. So they were relegated to the display shelf, to be admired but not used – and out they come after every house move, to brighten up a room.

I’ve always been a mellow yellow kind of person… Just not a tea drinker!

The Little Teashop of Lost and Found by Trisha Ashley

Alice Rose is a foundling, discovered on the Yorkshire moors above Haworth as a baby. Adopted but then later rejected again by a horrid step-mother, Alice struggles to find a place where she belongs. Only baking – the scent of cinnamon and citrus and the feel of butter and flour between her fingers – brings a comforting sense of home. 

So it seems natural that when she finally decides to return to Haworth, Alice turns to baking again, taking over a run-down little teashop and working to set up an afternoon tea emporium. 

Luckily she soon makes friends – including a Grecian god-like neighbour – who help her both set up home and try to solve the mystery of who she is. There are one or two last twists in the dark fairytale of Alice’s life to come . . . but can she find her happily ever after?

(All photos copyright: Trisha Ashley)